BAB Y IS KING. 343
To stare at the bundle ;
Then onward he goes, Like an elephant trying
To walk on his toes.
The queen of the ballroom
Throws loyally down Before him the roses
She wore in her crown, And sings little love-songs
Of how she loves best The fair baby blossom
She rocks on her breast.
Good aunties and cousins
Before him bow low, Though he rumples the ringlets,
Twists collar and bow ; He bids the nurse walk
With His Majesty s self, And cries when she stops,
Like a merciless elf.
He flings right and left
His saucy fat fist, And then the next moment
Expects to be kissed. He demands people s watches
To batter about, And meets a refusal
With struggle and shout.