Good morrow, Little Stranger,
Good morrow, Baby dear!
Good morrow, too, Mrs. Grainger,
And what do you do here?
With your boxes, caps, and cap-strings,
Drowsy, hazard-hap things,
And love of good cheer?
I’m a little boy that goes, ma’am,
Straight to the point;
You said that my nose, ma’am,
Would soon be out of joint;
But my nose keeps its place, ma’am--
The middle of my face, ma’am;
It is a nose of grace, ma’am--
Aroint thee, aroint!
[Illustration]
Good morrow, Little Stranger,
A girl, or a boy?
Good morrow, Mrs. Grainger--
Where are you, ma’am?--ahoy!
Here’s all things in their proper place,
And people likewise,
The laundry-maid in the copper-place,
The skylark in the skies!
Here’s love for Mamma,
And love for Papa;
Here’s a penny for a scavenger,
And a bag for the blooming lavender,
And a rope for Don’t Care,
And a kiss for the little Baby,
And one for a pretty lady
With a diamond in her hair!
[Illustration: HAROLD AND ALICE;