How happy is our lot,
Beneath our vines and fig-trees,
In this suburban spot,
Among so many big trees!
Our landlord’s very kind,
His speech is mild and gentle,
He never was inclined
To go and raise the rental.
How happy is our lot
Beneath our vines and fig-trees,
In this suburban spot,
Among so many big trees;
How happy is our lot!
How happy is our lot!
How do you do?
Aside. I’ll try a few devices;
I’ve paid a five-cent fare,
To see if my premises
Were wanting much repair.
Sir, the whole house neat and nice is,
And requires no extra care.
Aside. Got him there!
Direct. This is indeed a lovely spot.
Aside. Got him there!
Direct. I think you never find it hot?
Aside. Got him there!
Direct. Handy to the cars and boats?
Aside. Got him there!
Direct. Far removed from geese and goats?
Aside. Got him there!
Think I’ve got him everywhere.
Direct. Bless you! after so much praise
I shall really have to raise.
Mother-in-law. CONTRALTO.
To Tenor. Oh, oh, oh!
No, no, no!
Have you the feelings of a man
To stand such wicked imposition?
An old house built on such a plan,
And in the very worst condition.
The paper’s hanging on the wall.
The plaster’s tumbling from the ceiling.
The front piazza is liable to fall.
Oh, are you a man of any feeling?