What a large floor! ’tis like a town!
The carpet, when they lay it down,
Won’t hide it, I’ll be bound.
And there’s a row of lamps—my eye!
How they do blaze! I wonder why
They keep them on the ground.
At first I caught hold of the wing,
And kept away; but Mr. Thing-
um bob, the prompter man,
Gave with his hand my chaise a shove,