_Chorus_--When I’m spoken to, I wriggle, Going off into a giggle, And as red as any peony I blush; Then turn paler than a lily, For I’m such a little silly, That I’m always in a flutter or a flush! [_After each chorus an elaborate step-dance, expressive of shrinking maidenly modesty._ I’ve a cottage far away from other houses, Which the nybours hardly ever come anoigh; When they do, I run and hoide among the rouses, For I _cannot_ cure myself of being shoy. _Spoken_--A great girl like me, too! But there, it’s no use trying, for-- _Chorus_--When I’m spoken to, I wriggle, &c. Well, the other day I felt my fice was crimson, Though I stood and fixed my gyze upon the skoy, For at the gyte was sorcy Chorley Simpson, And the sight of him’s enough to turn me shoy. _Spoken_--It’s singular, but Chorley always ’as that effect on me. _Chorus_--When he speaks to me, I wriggle, &c. Then said Chorley: “My pursuit there’s no evyding. Now I’ve caught you, I insist on a reploy. Do you love me? Tell me truly, little myding!” But how _is_ a girl to answer when she’s shoy? _Spoken_--For even if the conversation happens to be about nothing particular, it’s just the same to me. _Chorus_--When I’m spoken to, I wriggle, &c. [Illustration: THE IDYLLIC.] There we stood among the loilac and syringas, More sweet than any Ess. Bouquet you boy; [_Arcadian for “buy.”_ And Chorley kept on squeezing of my fingers, And I couldn’t tell him not to, being shoy. _Spoken_--For, as I told you before,-- _Chorus_--When I’m spoken to, I wriggle, &c. Soon my slender wyste he ventured on embrycing, While I only heaved a gentle little soy; Though a scream I would have liked to rise my vice in, It’s so difficult to scream when you are shoy! _Spoken_--People have such different ways of listening to proposals. As for me,-- _Chorus_--When they talk of love, I wriggle, &c. So very soon to Church we shall be gowing, While the bells ring out a merry peal of jy. If obedience you do not hear me vowing, It will only be because I am so shy. [_We have brought the rhyme off legitimately at last, it will be observed._ _Spoken_--Yes, and when I’m passing down the oil, on Chorley’s arm, with everybody looking at me,-- _Chorus_--I am certain I shall wriggle, And go off into a giggle, And as red as any peony I’ll blush. Going through the marriage service Will be sure to mike me nervous, [_Note the freedom of the rhyme._ And to put me in a flutter and a flush! V.--THE AMATORY EPISODIC.