THE LOVER-DOLL.

ardon, dearest Araminta, If I go not on my knees, For my joints are out of order, When I bend they crack and wheeze. When I saw you in the doll's-house, Then I felt young Cupid's dart Striking through my crimson waistcoat, Till it stuck within my heart. Though my blood is not the bluest, Still, for you (the fact remains) I would gladly shed the last drop Of the sawdust in my veins. Do not scorn me, Araminta, To my suit your favour lend; I would fold my arms around you, Only that I cannot bend. For, before I fell in love, dear, Ere I hoped with you to wed, Careless Mistress Baby dropped me Down the stairs upon my head. But I'll probably recover When I've had a dose of glue, And, come life or death, will ever Be to Araminta true.