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They bolted on me thus, and lo!Each ready with a plaintive whine;Said I, "Not half an hour agoYour Mother has had alms of mine.""That cannot be," one answer'd, "She is dead.""Nay but I gave her pence, and she will buy you bread."
"She has been dead, Sir, many a day.""Sweet Boys, you're telling me a lie;"It was your Mother, as I say—"And in the twinkling of an eye,"Come, come!" cried one; and, without more ado,Off to some other play they both together flew.
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