Volume 101 — LULLABY OF AN INFANT SPECULATOR.
Reading edition
1891.
(A long way after Sir Walter Scott.)
[Packets called "Lucky Sweets," in which the bait is the chance of "prize gifts," are having a large sale amongst children.]
Thy mother a "booky," both leary and fair,
And the spirit of bold Speculation, I see,
Heredity's taint hath stirred early in thee.
Oh, two to one bar one! Heigh! dance, babie, dance!
Oh, tiddley-um, diddley-um, back the off-chance!
Oh, hear not thy rattle, though loudly it goes; Oh, suck not thy fingers! Oh, count not thy toes! The "Last Odds" and "Share List" to thee shall be read To-night ere thou'rt cosily tucked up in bed. Oh, two to one bar one, &c.
Oh, hush thee, my babie! Thy sire will soon come, With "Surprise Packets" for thee. Oh, ain't it yum-yum? And "Lucky Sweets," babie, will catch thine off eye. Not "Hush-a-bye, babie!" but rather, "Buy! Buy!" Oh, two to one bar one, &c.
My lullaby, babie, 's not that of old nurse; The pillow for thee has less charms than the purse; It is not that "Sweets" from those packets you'd suck; No, babie, your yearning's to try your young luck. Oh, two to one bar one, &c.
You eagerly buy them, the "Prizes" to seek (You "blued" two-and-tenpence, my babie, last week), Those "Lucky Sweets," babie, are babydom's "play." But as for the sweets, why you chuck them away! Oh, two to one bar one, &c.
Oh, princes may "punt," babie; nobles may "plunge," But, babie, that chubby fist's cynical lunge Means craving for nothing that babyhood eats: No, babie, you'd fain do a "flutter" in sweets. Oh, two to one bar one, &c.
The tuck-shops, my babie, are well up to date; They know Speculation now rules the whole State; It sways all the classes, all ages, each sex; So now we're provided with "Nursery Specs." Oh, two to one bar one, &c.
Shall Court, Camp and Counter all yield to the spell And Cradledom not be considered as well? Shall betting fire Oxford, and gambling witch Girton, And Infancy not put its own little shirt on? Oh, two to one, bar one, &c.
Oh, hush thee, my babie! the time will soon come When at Baccarat boards you'll sit sucking your thumb. Meanwhile "Lucky Sweets," babie, buy while you may, They will teach simple childhood the charms of high play. Oh, two to one, bar one! Heigh! dance, babie, dance! Oh, tiddley-um, diddley-um, back the off-chance!
A DOMESTIC DIAGNOSIS.
Jones (who has come with his Wife to call on the new Neighbours). "WONDER IF THEY'VE BEEN MARRIED LONG, HYPATIA?"
Mrs. Jones. "OH NO. EVIDENTLY NEWLY-MARRIED."
Jones. "HOW CAN YOU TELL?"
Mrs. Jones. "DRAWING-ROOM SMELLS OF TOBACCO-SMOKE!"