Pray, how do you like the city, Sir?

JONATHAN

Ma'am!--

JENNY

I say, Sir, how do you like New-York?

JONATHAN

Ma'am!--

JENNY

The stupid creature! but I must pass some little time with him, if it
is only to endeavour to learn whether it was his master that made such
an abrupt entrance into our house, and my young mistress's heart, this
morning. [Aside.] As you don't seem to like to talk, Mr. Jonathan--do
you sing?

JONATHAN Gor, I--I am glad she asked that, for I forgot what Mr.
Jessamy bid me say, and I dare as well be hanged as act what he bid me
do, I'm so ashamed. [Aside.] Yes, Ma'am, I can sing--I can sing Mear,
Old Hundred, and Bangor.

JENNY

Oh! I don't mean psalm tunes. Have you no little song to please the
ladies, such as Roslin Castle, or the Maid of the Mill?

JONATHAN

Why, all my tunes go to meeting tunes, save one, and I count you won't
altogether like that 'ere.

JENNY

What is it called?

JONATHAN

I am sure you have heard folks talk about it; it is called Yankee
Doodle.

JENNY

Oh! it is the tune I am fond of; and if I know anything of my mistress,
she would be glad to dance to it. Pray, sing!

JONATHAN [Sings.]

Father and I went up to camp,
Along with Captain Goodwin;
And there we saw the men and boys,
As thick as hasty-pudding.
Yankee doodle do, etc.

And there we saw a swamping gun,
Big as log of maple,
On a little deuced cars,
A load for father's cattle.
Yankee doodle do, etc.
And every time they fired it off
It took a horn of powder,
It made a noise--like father's gun,
Only a nation louder.
Yankee doodle do, etc.

There was a man in our town,
His name was--

No, no, that won't do. Now, if I was with Tabitha Wymen and Jemima
Cawley down at father Chase's, I shouldn't mind singing this all out
before them--you would be affronted if I was to sing that, though
that's a lucky thought; if you should be affronted, I have something
dang'd cute, which Jessamy told me to say to you.

JENNY

Is that all! I assure you I like it of all things.

JONATHAN

No, no; I can sing more; some other time, when you and I are better
acquainted, I'll sing the whole of it--no, no--that's a fib--I can't
sing but a hundred and ninety verses; our Tabitha at home can sing it
all.--[Sings.]

Marblehead's a rocky place,
And Cape-Cod is sandy;
Charlestown is burnt down,
Boston is the dandy.
Yank