Was I sober or awake? Could I believe my ears? Those dismal beggars spake Of nothing but railroad shares.

I wondered more and more: Says one

"Good friend

of mine, How many shares have you wrote for? In the Diddlesex Junction line?”

"I wrote for twenty," says Jim, "But they wouldn't give me one; His comrade straight rebuked him For the folly he had done:

"O Jim, you are unawares

Of the ways of this bad town; I always write for five hundred shares, And then they put me down."

"And yet you got no shares," Says Jim, "for all your boast; "I would have wrote," says Jack, "but

where Was the penny to pay the post?"

"I lost, for I couldn't pay That first instalment up; But here's taters smoking hot-I say Let's stop my boy and sup."

And at this simple feast The while they did regale, I drew each ragged capitalist Down on my left thumpnail.

Their talk did me perplex, All night I tumbled and tost, And thought of railroad specs., And how money was won and lost.

"Bless railroads everywhere," I said, "and the world's advance; Bless every railroad share In Italy, Ireland, France; For never a beggar need now despair, And every rogue has a chance.”

19

THE LAMENTABLE BALLAD OF THE FOUNDLING

OF SHOREDITCH.

COME, all ye Christian people, and listen to my tail,
It is all about a doctor was travelling by the rail,
By the Heastern Counties Railway (vich the shares I
don't desire),

From Ixworth town in Suffolk, vich his name did not

transpire.

A travelling from Bury this Doctor was employed

With a gentleman, a friend of his, vich his name was Captain Loyd;

And on reaching Marks Tey Station, that is next beyond

Colchest

er, a lady entered into them most elegantly dressed.

She entered into the Carriage all with a tottering step,
And a pooty little Bayby upon her bussum slep;
The gentlemen received her with kindness and siwillaty,
Pitying this lady for her illness and debillaty.

She had a fust class ticket, this lovely lady said,
Because it was so lonesome she took a secknd instead.
Better to travel by secknd class than sit alone in the fust,
And the pooty little Baby upon her breast she nust.

A seein of her cryin, and shiverin and pail,

To her spoke this surging, the Ero of my tail;

Saysee you look unwell, Ma'am, I'll elp you if I can,
And you may tell your case to me, for I'm a meddicle man.

“Thank you, Sir," the lady said, "I only look so pale, Because I ain't accustom'd to travelling on the Rale;

I shall be better presnly, when I've ad some rest:
And that pooty little Baby she squeeged it to her breast.

So in conwersation the journey they beguiled, Capting Loyd and the medical man, and the lady and the child,

Till the warious stations along the line was passed,

For even the Heastern Counties' trains must come in at

last.

When at Shoreditch tumminus at lenth stopped the train, This kind meddicle gentleman proposed his aid again. "Thank you, Sir," the lady said, "for your kindness

dear;

My carridge and my osses is probbibly come here.

"Will you old this baby, please, vilst I step and see?”
The Doctor was a famly man: "That I will," says he.
Then the little child she kist, kist it very gently,
Vich was sucking his little fist, sleeping innocently.

With a sigh from her art, as though she would have bust it, Then she gave the Doctor the child wery kind he nust it: Hup then the lady jumped hoff the bench she sat from, Tumbled down the carridge steps and ran along the platform.

Vile hall the other passengers vent upon their vays,
The Capting and the Doctor sat there in a maze;
Some vent in a Homminibus, some vent in a Cabby,
The Capting and the Doctor vaited vith the babby.

There they sat looking queer, for an hour or more,
But their feller passinger neather on 'em sore:
Never, never back again did that lady come
To that pooty sleeping Hinfnt a suckin of his Thum!