His hat was off, red vest apart, to catch the evening breeze—
He thought that that might cool his brow; it only made him sneeze,
So pressed his side with his hand, and tried to seem as if at ease.
Heave after heave his waistcoat gave, to him was peace denied,
It tortured him to see them eat, he couldn’t though he tried!
Good fare had made him much too fat, and rather goggle eyed,
At length he started to his feet, some hurried steps he took,
Now up the ward, now down the ward, with wild dyspeptic look,
And lo! he saw a work’us boy, who read a penny book—
“You beastly brat! What is’t you’re at? I warrant ’tis no good!