THE GOVERNESS.
My task is now just nearly ended,
And you may justly feel offended,
To be so low upon the wall,
Or placed upon the list at all.
No one suspects that you're a glutton,
And so you're served with cold boiled mutton;
Nor grudged, to aid your mental work,
That luxury—a silver fork!
Of course, you'll show no sort of blindness
To such extraordinary kindness.
A vulgar person, 'take your davy,'
Would have steel prongs, hot chops, and gravy;
I'd e'en be charged with platitude,
But what I'd show my gratitude!
Say that "Miss Laura's too precocious;
Jane so inert, Ruth so ferocious,
Rose quite an invalid; Miss Liddy
So most abominably giddy,—
You can make nothing—maugre raillery,
Of any of 'em but—the salary!"