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"Will you old this baby, please, vilst I step and see?"
With a sigh from her art, as though she would have bust it,
Vile hall the other passengers vent upon their vays,
There they sat looking queer, for an hour or more,
To that pooty sleeping Hinfnt a suckin of his Thum!
What could this pore Doctor do, bein treated thus,
When the darling Baby woke, cryin for its nuss?
Off he drove to a female friend, vich she was both kind and mild, And igsplained to her the circumstance of this year little child.
That kind lady took the child instantly in her lap,
And made it very comfortable by giving it some pap;
And when she took its close off, what d'you think she found?
Also in its little close, was a note which did conwey,
Pity of this bayby many people took,
It had such pooty ways and such a pooty look;
And I wish with all my art, some night in my night gownd, I could find a note stitched for ten or twenty pound)— There came a lady forrard, that most honorable did say, She'd adopt this little baby, which her parents cast away.
While the Doctor pondered on this hoffer fair,
To send the little Infant back to Devonshire.
Lost in apoplexity, this pore meddicle man,
Like a sensable gentleman, to the Justice ran;
"O Justice!" says the Doctor, "instrugt me what to do.
"I've come up from the country, to know how I'll dispose
Of this pore little baby, and the twenty pun note, and the close,
Up spoke Mr. Hammill, sittin at his desk,
"This year application does me much perplesk ; What I do adwise you, is to leave this babby
In the Parish where it was left, by its mother shabby."
The Doctor from his Worship sadly did depart—
He might have left the baby, but he hadn't got the heart
Mother, who left this little one on a stranger's knee,
THE ORGAN-BOY'S APPEAL.
"WESTMINSTER Police Court.—POLICEMAN X brought a paper of doggerel verses to the MAGISTRATE, which had been thrust into his hands, X said, by an Italian boy, who ran away immediately afterwards.
"The MAGISTRATE, after perusing the lines, looked hard at X, and said he did not think they were written by an Italian.
"X, blushing, said he thought the paper read in Court last week, and which frightened so the old gentleman to whom it was addressed, was also not of Italian origin."
O SIGNOR BRODERIP, you are a wickid ole man,
Though you set in Vestminster surrounded by your crushers,
(you vickid HEROD without any pity!
London vithout horgin-boys vood be a dismal city.
Sweet SAINT CICILY who first taught horgin-pipes to blow
Good Italian gentlemen, fatherly and kind,
Brings us over to London here our horgins for to grind ;
And as us young horgin-boys is grateful in our turn
O MR. BRODERIP! wery much I'm surprise,
Ven you take your valks abroad where can be your eyes?
Us pore little horgin-boys was the poor man's friend.
Don't you see the shildren in the droring-rooms
Don't you see the ousemaids (pooty POLLIES and MARIES),
And give it us young horgin-boys for lunch afore we go.
Have you ever seen the Hirish children sport
When our velcome music-box brings sunshine in the Court? To these little paupers who can never pay
Surely all good horgin-boys, for GOD's love, will play.
Has for those proud gentlemen, like a serting B-k
Instedd of their abewsing and calling hout Poleece