TO SEE HER PIPE AWRY.

Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street, And she had a smile for all. Many were the friends she'd greet With kindly nod on passing by, Who, smiling, saw her pipe awry. Poor old lass! she loved her pipe, A constant friend it seemed to be; As she sold her apples ripe, With an apple on each knee, How she'd make the smoke-wreaths fly, As I've watched her pipe awry! Seasons came and seasons went, Only changing Betty's store; Youngsters with her always spent Their little all and wished they'd more: Timidly with upturned eye Staring at her pipe awry. Bet was always at her post Early morn or even late; Ginger beer or chestnut roast, Served she as she sat in state, On two bushel-baskets high; You should have seen her pipe awry! Little care old Betty had, She quietly jogged on her way; Never did her face look sad. Although she fumed the livelong day. Guiltless seemed she of a sigh. I never saw her pipe her eye!