"But a leer from her eye, where Cupids lie,
Of love gave proof apparent;
And, from something she dropp'd, I shrewdly ween'd,
In her heart she judged, that a _living Fiend_
Was better than a _dead Parent_.


XXVI

"But the time is short; and suitors may come,
While I stand here reporting;
Then make your son a bit of a Beau,
And give me your blessing, before I go
To the other world a courting."


XXVII

"But what will you do with your horns, my son?
And that tail--fair maids will mock it--"
"My tail I will dock--and as for the horn,
Like husbands above I think no scorn
To carry it in my pocket."


XXVIII

"But what will you do with your feet, my son?"
"Here are stockings fairly woven: