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The Chee-Chees held high festival in old Domingo's Hall, And I was there, tho' I was not invited to the ball; But they receiv'd me kindly, all owing, as I trust. To my appearance proving me one of the "upper crust."

And merrily I pass'd the time, although 'twas somewhat slow— I danced like mad each polka, with lots of heel and toe: For Chee-Chees think that polkas are very like Scotch reels. And that to dance them properly you must kick up your heels.

And there was one, a petite belle, a modest little girl. Her hair was twisted down her cheeks in many a spiral curl; Her teeth were polish'd ivory, her eyes were very bright. And the little thing look'd blacker from being dress'd in white.

And ever as I saw this girl, I mark'd a little man Whom lovingly she ogled behind her pretty fan: They always danced together, or, as far as I could see. When they couldn't dance together they stood up vis-a-vis.

Now while the supper disappear'd, I sought for fresher air, My nose 'mid Kentish hop-grounds rear'd is not the nose to bear The scent of oil of cocoanut with that of bad perfume. And the odour of hot dishes in a densely crowded room.