IN THE TUILERIES GARDENS.
I N the Tuileries gardens, each afternoon,
A little old man comes walking along:
Now watch what happens! for just as soon
As they see him, the birds begin their song,
And flutter about his hands and head,
And perch on his shoulder quite at their ease,
For he fills his pockets with crumbs of bread
To feed his friends who live in the trees,
And well they know he loves them so
That into his pockets they sometimes go.
But hark to what's going on over there!
'Tis surely a Punch-and-Judy man,
Making old Judy, I do declare,
Talk French as fast as ever she can!
And I think, from the looks of poor Mr. P.,
He's getting it hot from his scolding wife;
But just wait a minute, and then you'll see
He'll beat her within an inch of her life.
Walk in! take a seat and you'll see her beat,
And a penny is all you pay for the treat.
