Mrs. Mac—tney, Great Titchfield-street.
Come you young rascal, leave off crying,
I will whip you while the rod will last!
I will! I will! you're always lying,
I will whip you for all offences past,
There is nothing gives me so much pride
Than such amusement with a youth!
To whip! To whip! his bold backside,
When he tells lies, instead of truth!
Plunge and caper! roar and cry!
I have you now within my power
No kind protector now is nigh,
Thro' life I'll make you bless this hour,
And bless this hand that holds the rod!
And kiss it with a fervor sweet!
And think yourself a demigod!
While tasting the delicious treat!
Keep down your legs, let go my hand,
Let, let your breeches remain down,
This efficacious reprimand.
Shall make you the best boy in town.
Mrs. M— has now with her two young beautiful tits, one about fifteen and the other sixteen, who are always dressed in frocks like school girls; a certain foreign nobleman often visits her, and being fond of the game of school mistress, to please him, she generally assumes the character of a governess, and makes the young misses read to her; on their not reading to her satisfaction, she takes up the young naughty girls on her lap, one after another, and whips them well with a good birch rod, to the great delight of the nobleman, who is soon served in the same manner by one of the naughty girls. No one can be admitted into her house without being first introduced.