And said, “Go on, my pretty love;
Speak to ’em, little Nan.
“You’ve only got to curtsey whisp-
er, hold your chin up, laugh, and lisp,
And then you’re sure to take:
I’ve known the day when brats, not quite
Thirteen, got fifty pounds a night;[77]
Then why not Nancy Lake?”
But while I’m speaking, where’s papa?
And where’s my aunt? and where’s mamma?