They'd follow her where'er she'd go--
A course of action most improper;
She neither knew by sight, and so
For neither of them cared a copper.
Brown did not know that Turkish male,
He might have been his sainted mother:
The people in this simple tale
Are total strangers to each other.
One day that Turk he sickened sore
Which threw him straight into a sharp pet;
He threw himself upon the floor
And rolled about upon his--carpet.
It made him moan--it made him groan
And almost wore him to a mummy:
Why should I hesitate to own
That pain was in his little tummy?
At length a Doctor came and rung
(As Allah Achmet had desired)
Who felt his pulse, looked up his tongue,
And hummed and hawed, and then inquired:
"Where is the pain, that long has preyed
Upon you in so sad a way, sir?"
The Turk he giggled, blushed, and said,
"I don't exactly like to say, sir."
"Come, nonsense!" said good Doctor Brown,
"So this is Turkish coyness, is it?
You must contrive to fight it down--
Come, come, sir, please to be explicit.
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