And not the real thing—which, of course, we abhor.
We see in each movement such truth of expression,
Their stampings and kickings are done with such grace,
That ladies of title e'en make the confession
That they in the Savage—nobility trace!
But chief the delight, when the acting is ended,
To go to the room from which Cumming is gone,
And there inspect closely their figures so splendid,
And, timidly, even shake hands with each one,
And their dear little baby we smother with kisses,