Of nettle-rash.
“You’d better go,” the matron said,
“And rest your head upon your bed;”
A tear stood in her bright blue eye,
As he did question, have then I—
Got nettle-rash?
You’ll take two pills, the doctor said,
And mind you cover up your head—
I’ll see he does, the nurse replies,
I hope you’ll cure me, sir, he cries,