Let children always, when they're ill,

Both eat and drink whate'er they will;

Although 'forbid' by Doctor Diet,

'Twill do 'em good, and keep 'em quiet.

They'll love you—all, and take it kind too,

To throw their physic out of window:

Remember, though, 'tis quite as well

To bid the poor things "not to tell."

Do for your Mistress just the same,

If laid up either sick or lame;

And if she 'longs,'—whate'er the food,

Engage that it will do her good.

But if she goes to whip a child,

Declare you're 'druv' distracted, wild;

And swear to leave her place you'd 'ruther,'

Than live with such a cruel mother!