I said, “Remember Mrs. Bull, the kindest of her sex!
Will you snarl up her Berlin wool, and her kind bosom vex?”
But Mrs. Bull did not seem cross, she made but little noise.
She said she didn’t care to “sit on” little Bulgar Boys.
She said, “Old Turkey-Cock, ’tis time you were upon the shelf.
Spank him? Go to—Roumelia, and spank the Boy yourself!”
I went not to Roumelia—I didn’t like the job.
My purse was low; I scarce could raise what Cockneys call “a Bob.”
The Powers that be looked shy at me, they saw that I was riled,
But said, “We can’t have rows all round, so please to draw it mild!”