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! [Illustration: THE NURSERY MAID.] But don't go far enough to fret her; She'll scold, but love you all the better For taking the 'dear children's part,'-- You've "railly such a tender heart!" Yet when you're flirting in the park, Make 'em stop out till quite pitch dark; And 'if so be as how' they cry, "They'll go to Bogey certain-ly!" THE DAIRY-MAID. BE ever putting forth a splutter Of the fatigue of making butter: Even in summer you must learn Always to have a scalding churn. Cream a week old at least desire, And churn close to the kitchen fire. But of your business, still the great art Is,--saving cream for your own sweetheart! THE WET NURSE. PERCHANCE, should you the child 'let fall,' Confessing it 'won't do at all;' None can the secret e'er discover, And if it _dies_, the danger's over. To your own breast confine the bilk, And save--your 'breasteziz' of milk. Wean 'such as live' as soon as may be, Out o' the way of the next baby. THE LAUNDRESS. WHEN such a 'fantigue' you have been in, You've with the iron singed the linen; Rub it with whiting, chalk, or flour, For just the space of half an hour: Then washing,--by repeated fags Twill be all _right_, or--_all in rags_. THE GOVERNESS. MY task is now just nearly ended, And you may justly feel offended, To be so low upon the wall, Or placed upon the list at all. No one suspects that _you're_ a glutton, And so you're served with cold boiled mutton; Nor grudged, to aid your mental work, That _luxury_--a silver fork! Of course, you'll show no sort of blindness To such extraordinary kindness. A vulgar person, 'take your davy,' Would have steel prongs, hot chops, and gravy; I'd e'en be charged with platitude, But what I'd show my gratitude! Say that "Miss Laura's too precocious; Jane so inert, Ruth so ferocious, Rose quite an invalid; Miss Liddy So most abominably giddy,-- You can make nothing--maugre raillery, Of any of 'em but--the salary!" A FEW RULES, WHICH CONCERN ALL SERVANTS IN GENERAL.