And he thinks it is no matter at all
If a little boy runs and jumps and climbs;
And mamma should be willing to let me crawl
Through the bannister-rails in the hall sometimes.
And Bridget, sir, made a great mistake,
In stirring up such a bother, you see,
For the Bishop—he didn't care for cake,
And really liked to play games with me.
But though he's so honored in word and act—
(Stoop down, this is a secret now)—