Now Mr. Hitchin thought the girl the fairest he had seen,
And said: “My dear, how old are you?” She answered, “Seventeen.”
And as she with her own fair hands made him a cup of tea,
He tried to steal a kiss, and then the maiden cried with glee:—Chorus.
As Mr. Hitchin drank the tea, he bold and bolder grew,
He squeezed the maiden’s hand and said: “Oh, ducky, I love you!”
And then he put his arm around—well, where it shouldn’t be,
While Katie cried: “Oh! Mr. Hitchin, stop! you’re tickling me!”—Chorus.
Just then old Missis Brown appeared, and, mad with jealousy,
Cried, “Oh, you wretch! that’s more than ever you would do for me!”