Another "Tea Rebellion"

When Mis' Augusty Nichols joined the Tufts
Minerva Club,
She polished up on manners and she then commenced to rub
At the hide of Mister Nichols who, while not exactly rude,
Was hardly calculated for a howling sort of dude.
Now when Augusty Nichols got to see how style was run,
You bet she went for Nichols and she dressed him down like fun;
And the thing in all his actions that she couldn't bear to see
Was to have him fill his saucer and go whoofling up his tea.
After more'n a month of stewing;--making mis'able his life,
She taught him not to shovel all his vittles with his knife.
And after more'n a volume of pretty spicy talk
She got him in the hang of eating pie with just his fork.
She trained him so's he didn't slop the vittles round his plate,
She plagued him till he wouldn't sit in shirtsleeves when he ate,
And then she tried her Waterloo, with faith in high degree
That she could revolutionize his way of drinking tea.
He drank it as his father always quaffed the cheering cup,
He poured it in his saucer, raised the brimming puddle up
And gathered in the liquid with a loud resounding "Swoof"
That now at last inspired Mrs. Nichols' fierce reproof.
But here was where the victim--ah, here was where the worm
Arose and fairly scared her by the vigor of his squirm,
--Sat down his steaming saucer and with a dangerous light
A-gleaming in his visage, he upbore a Yankee's right.
From the days of Boston's party up to now I think you'll see
That a Yankee's independent when you bother with his tea.
"Consarn your schoolmarm notions," thundered Mrs. Nichols' spouse,
"You've kept a'dingin' at me till I'm meechin round the house.
I've swallered that and t'other for I didn't like to row
But ye ain't a-going to boss me in the thing ye've tackled now.
I'm durned if I'll be scalded all the time I'm being stung
So I'll cool my tea, Mis' Nichols, while ye jab me with your tongue."
There are rights ye cannot smother, tyrants, whoso'er ye be,
And the good, New England Yankee's mighty touchy, sir, on tea.