And each one thinks before she acts of—What will Grundy say?
Mr. Tompkins fail’d last fall, and is not worth a red,
But still he lives upon the “Fifth,” and still holds up his head.
They keep their carriage all the same, though not a dime they pay;
They can’t retrench a cent, for shame of—What would Grundy say?
There’s Mary Jane, she’s tall and slim, a sack of bonesshe’s grown,
And brown as any Gipsy girl, and awkward as a clown;
Yet she must wear her dresses low, and her thin neck display,
For ’tis the fashion; and you know, What would Dame Grundy say?
There’s Mrs. Jones, she’s fifty-four, and still she curls her hair,