suppose,
But I didn't quite relish his smile, nor his rummy remarks on my
nose.

When a tall gurl as pooty as paint, and with cheeks like a
blush--rose in bloom,
'As 'er lamps all a-larf on yer face, and a giggle goes round the
whole room,
'Tisn't nice to sit square on a chair, with a feller a-sharpening
'is wit
On your nob, and a rumpling your 'air till it's like a birch-broom
in a fit!

One caper we 'ad, on the lawn, wos a spree and no error, old man.
They call it a "Soap-Bubble Tournyment." Soapsuds, a pipe, and a
fan,
Four six--foot posts stuck in the ground with a tape run
around--them's the "props,"
And lawn-tennis ain't in it for larks. Oh, the ladies did larf,
though tip-tops!

Bit sniffy fust off. "Oh!" sez they, "wot a most _hintellectual_
game!"
But I noticed that them as sneered most wos most anxious to win,
all the same,
The gent he stands slap in the middle, and tries to blow bubbles
like fun,
Wich his pardner fans over the tape; don't it jest keep the girls
on the run!