Chapter II: The Love Story

This is the doll with respect to whom
A story is told that ends in gloom;
For there was a sensitive little sir
Went out of his mind for love of her!

They pulled a wire, she moved her eye;
They squeezed the bellows, they made her cry;
But the boy could never be persuaded
That these were really things which _they_ did.

“My Dolladine,” he said, “has life;
I love her, and she shall be my wife;
Dainty delicate Dolladine,
The prettiest girl that ever was seen!”

To give his passion a chance to cool,
They sent the lover to boarding-school.
But absence only made it worse--
He never learnt anything, prose or verse!

He drew her likeness on his slate;
His Grammar was in a _dreadful_ state,
With Dolladine all over the edges,
And true-love knots, and vows, and pledges.

What was the consequence?--Doctor Whack
Begged of his parents to take him back.
When his condition, poor boy, was seen,
Too late, they sent for Dolladine.

And now he will never part with her:
He calls her lily, and rose, and myrrh,
Dolly-o’-diamonds, precious lamb,
Humming-bird, honey-pot, jewel, jam,

Darling, delicate-dear-delight,
Angel-o’-red, angel-o’-white,
Queen of beauty, and suchlike names;
In fact all manner of darts and flames!

Of course, while he keeps up this wooing
His education goes to ruin:
What are his prospects in future life,
With only a doll for his lawful wife?

It is feared his parents’ hearts will break!
And there’s one remark I wish to make:
I may be wrong, but it seems a pity
For a movable doll to be made too pretty.

An old-fashioned doll, that is not like nature,
Can never pass for a human creature;
It is in a doll that moves her eyes
That the danger of these misfortunes lies!

The lover’s name must be suppressed
For obvious reasons. He lives out west,
And if I call him Pygmalion Pout,
I don’t believe you will find him out!