Fred. I may not tell you; it would reflect upon my well-loved Ruth.
[Ruth comes down to Frederic.
Ruth. Nay, dear master, my mind has long been gnawed by the cankering tooth of mystery. Better have it out at once.
Song.—Ruth.
When Frederic was a little lad he proved so brave and daring,
His father thought he’d ’prentice him to some career seafaring.
I was, alas, his nursery-maid, and so it fell to my lot
To take and bind the promising boy apprentice to a pilot—
A life not bad for a hardy lad, though certainly not a high lot.
Though I’m a nurse, you might do worse than make your boy a pilot.