Poor Mrs. T. could bear no more,
But fainted flat upon the floor.
Mamma-in-law, with anguish wild,
Seeks, all in vain, to rouse her child.
"Quick! Take this box of smelling-salts!
Don't scold her, James, or you'll repent it,
She's a dear girl, with all her faults"
"She is!" groaned Tottles (and he meant it).
"I was a donkey," Tottles cried,
"To choose your daughter for my bride!
'Twas you that bid us cut a dash!
'Tis you have brought us to this smash!
You don't suggest one single thing
That can in any way prevent it
Then what's the use of arguing?
Shut up!" cried Tottles (and he meant it).
Once more I started into wakefulness, and realised that Mein Herr was not the singer. He was still consulting his memoranda.
"It is exactly what my friend told me," he resumed, after conning over various papers. "'Unpatriotic' is the very word I had used, in writing to him, and 'hinder' is the very word he used in his reply! Allow me to read you a portion of his letter:
