Anthony Trollope: Barchester Towers


'Diddle, diddle, diddle, diddle, dum, dum, dum,' said, or sung Eleanor Bold.

'Diddle, diddle, diddle, diddle, dum, dum, dum,' continued Mary Bold, taking up the second part in the concerted piece.

The only audience at the concert was the baby, who however gave such vociferous applause, that the performers presuming it to amount to an encore, commenced again.

'Diddle, diddle, diddle, diddle, dum, dum, dum: hasn't he got lovely legs?' said the rapturous mother.

'H'm, 'm, 'm, 'm, 'm,' simmered Mary, burying her lips in the little fellow's fat neck, by way of kissing him.

'H'm, 'm, 'm, 'm, 'm,' simmered the mamma, burying her lips also in his fat round short legs. 'He's a dawty little bold darling, so he is; and he has the nicest little pink legs in all the world, so he has;' and the simmering and the kissing went on over again, and as though the ladies were very hungry, and determined to eat him.

'Well, then, he's his own mother's own darling: well, he shall--oh, oh,--Mary, Mary--did you ever see? What am I to do? My naughty, naughty, naughty little Johnny.' All these energetic exclamations were elicited by the delight of the mother in finding that her son was strong enough and mischievous enough, to pull all her hair out from under her cap. 'He's been and pulled down all mamma's hair, and he's the naughtiest, naughtiest, naughtiest little man that ever, ever, ever, ever, ever--'

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