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It was one winter's day, about six in the morn, When I, little innocent creature was born; There was doctor, and nurse, and a great many more But none of them saw such a baby before: They all swore I was like my papa; Yes, and see there’s the nose of mamma, With a few alterations, oh, la! We’ll make him a beautiful boy.

To make him a beauty, cried out Mrs Sneer, We’ll be troubled; without the child has a sweet leer, Then to give him this leer, Mrs Glazier arose, And a piece of red putty stuck bang on my nose. This made me wink and blink so, The ladies know’d not what to think, oh; At last it turn’d into a squint so, All to make me a beautiful boy.

To make me accomplish’d, I wanted one thing, My mouth was too small for the dear child to sing, Then to lug it, and tug it, they all of them tried, Till they stretched my sweet mouth near half a wide,