“Stand up, ’twouldn’t hurt a child;”
Still in vain for mercy calling,—
“Bathman, please to ‘draw it mild’.”
Now ’tis over, rub and dress you;
Now the nerves are in full play,
“Bathman I’m all glowing—bless you,
Can’t I have one every day?”
Now all you in sick beds lying,
Victims to each false alarm;
Pill and potion vainly trying