’Tis but to be chaffed by the boys
I am left in this horrible place.
I am out of humanity’s reach,
I must walk up and down all day long,
I’ve no one to list to my speech,
I have not the pluck for a song.
The newspaper boys they peep in,
And laugh and insult me with glee;
To them it is very good fun—
Their jesting is shocking to me.