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!

[Footnote 1: In the Stock Exchange sense, of course.]

* * * * *

[Illustration: 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."