XVI.

Last night I heard Jones astin' you to go To see the opery next Thursday night, And you said yes—and he'll be settin' right Beside you there all through the whole blamed show, And you'll be touchin' him with your elbow, And mebby he'll say things that tickle you And buy a box of chock'luts for you, too, And I'll not be around nor never know.

I wish I'd be the hero on the stage, And you was the fair maiden that got stoled, And he would be the villain that would hold You frettin' like a song-bird in its cage— And then I'd come along and smash him one, And you'd say: "Take me, dear, for what you done."