id that I shan't live long,
For I never do a thing that's rude or wrong!

_Chorus (to which the Bull beats time)._

As a general rule, one _doesn't_ live long,
If you never do a thing that's rude or wrong!

_Second Verse._

My words are all with wisdom fraught,
To make polite replies I've sought;
And learned by independent thought,
That a pinafore, inked, is good for nought.
So wonderfully well have I been taught,
That I turn my toes as children ought!

_Chorus (to which the Bull dances)._
This moral lesson she's been taught--
She turns her toes as children ought!

_Lydia (sweetly)._ Yes, I'm the Farmer's daughter--LYDIA BANKS;
No person ever caught me playing pranks!
I'm loved by all the live-stock on the farm,

[_Ironical applause from the Bull._

Pigeons I've plucked will perch upon my arm,
And pigs at my approach sit up and beg,

[_Business by Bull._

For me the partial Peacock saves his egg,
No sheep e'er snaps if I attempt to touch her,
Lambs like it when I lead them to the butcher!
Each morn I milk my rams beneath the shed,
While rabbits flutter twittering round my head,
And, as befits a dairy-farmer's daughter,
What milk I get I supplement with water,

[_A huge Shadow is thrown on the road outside_; LYDIA _starts_.

Whose shadow is it makes the highway darker?
That bullet head! those ears! it is----JACK PARKER!

[_Chord. The Chorus flee in dismay, as_ JACK _enters with a reckless
swagger_.

_Song_--JACK PARKER.

I'm loafing about, and I very much doubt if my excellent Ma is aware
that I'm out;
My time I employ in attempts to annoy, and I'm not what
you'd call an agreeable boy!
I shoe the cats with walnut-shells;
Tin cans to curs I tie;
Ring furious knells at front-door bells--
Then round the corner fly!
'Neath donkeys' tails I fasten furze,
Or timid horsemen scare;
If chance occurs,
I stock with burrs
My little Sister's hair!

[_The Bull shakes his head reprovingly._

Such tricks give me joy without any alloy,--
but they do not denote an agreeable boy!

[_As_ JACK PARKER _concludes, the Bull ducks cautiously below the
half-door, while_ LYDIA _conceals herself behind the pump_, L.C.

_Jack (wandering about Stage, discontentedly)._

I thought at least there'd be some beasts to badger here!
Call this a farm--there ain't a blooming spadger here!

[_Approach