London Town | Page 4

stroll,?To talk to the parrots, and "scratch a poll,"?And after all that, there will still be time?On the patient elephant's back to climb.
The Bear & the Buns
Don't forget at the Zoo'?To take a good view?Of the funny old bear,?Who climbs out of his lair?Up a pole--Look, he's here,?With his figure so queer,?And his thick clumsy paws,?And his bun-seeking jaws.?On the end of a stick?Place a bun--"Now quick,?Master Bertie"--and, snap!--?What an awful red trap!--?The bun's out of sight,?But one more will delight?Father Bruin up there,?For his appetite's rare,?And he never says "No"?To a dozen or so.
The Milk Woman
"Milk o! Milk o!"?Each morn she cries,?And little sleepers?Ope their eyes,?And wonder if pure milk is sold?By Betty here, for they've been told?That London milk?(How people talk!)?Is only water?Mixed with chalk!
The Muffin Man
You've heard about the muffin man,
the muffin man, the muffin man,?You've heard about the muffin man?who lives in Drury Lane??Well, here you see that muffin man--
that celebrated muffin man,?And if you try his muffins, you'll be sure to buy again.
The Shoeblack Brigade
If you wanted a boy to polish your shoes,?Which of these two, do you think, you would choose?
They were once "Street Arabs," hungry, ill-clad,?And in very sore danger of going to the bad;?But now!--one might think that their fortunes were made, They're so proud to belong to the Shoeblack Brigade.
The Blue-Coat Boys
If you should pass through Newgate Street,?Bareheaded boys with coats of blue,?Among the crowd you're sure to meet--?And all with yellow stockings too.
Their coats are long as well as blue,?And when at football they do play,?They find them rather heavy too,?So tuck them up out of the way.
In Christchurch passage will be found?The entrance to the School; and though?It looks so quiet, all around?We hear the crowd go to and fro.
Above the doorway there you see?The Boy King's statue:--Would you know?Who founded this great school? 'Twas he,?More than three hundred years ago.
Gog and Magog in the Guildhall
In the famous Guildhall?Mayor and Alderman all?Meet to banquet and feast,?And it's whispered that they?Aren't inclined in the least?From the table to stray:?For they're fond of good cheer,?And they meet with it here,?Where the wine?Is so fine,?And still better than that,?Where the turtle's rich fat?Tempts the guests when they dine.?Turtle soup's very good,?And a favourite food,?With the banqueters all?Who frequent the Guildhall.
Two giants so tall?Guard the famous Guildhall.?(Gog is one, and the other?Is Magog his brother.)?Well, these giants so tall?Watch the feast, but can't call?For a crumb,?As they're dumb,?And not living at all!?Else 'twould seem scarcely fair,?That when good things were by,?Gog and Magog should stare?From their pedestals high,?For if placed at a table?At least they'd look able,?To dine there and then?Like two live Aldermen!
The Cat's-Meat Man
He calls "Meat, meat!"?All down the street;?And dogs "bow-wow,"?And cats "mi-ow,"?While kittens sly?Come purring by,?As if to say--?"Do serve us, pray,?The first of all,?For we're so small."?The man throws bits?Of meat to kits,?And cats, and dogs;?Then on he jogs,?And down the street?Still cries "Meat, meat!"
The Night Watch
Policeman A, Policeman B,?Likewise Policemen C and D--?All in a row, sedate and slow,?Away to their beats, tramp! tramp! they go.
Now the first is beloved by Ann the cook,?And his manly face has a bashful look,?As he thinks, with a sigh, of the beer and the pie?He has had from those area steps close by.
And here are three housemaids trim and slim;?Mr. B. knows Betty is fond of him;?But Policeman C loves Cicely,?And Dolly's engaged to Policeman D.
CHAPEL OF THE FOUNDLING HOSPITAL
In Guildford Street, great London Town,?Is a Nursery, bigger than ever has been:?When each child grows up and leaves its walls,?Another new baby that day is seen?In the Foundling cots. Each little babe?Has no baby sister or baby brother,?And never shall know the anxious care?And tender touch of a loving mother.?But "Our Father," who gives their "daily bread"?To all of His creatures, caused kindly men?To build this home for famishing babes?From many a poverty-stricken den:?And here they are fed, and clothed, and taught,?And lift their voices in prayer and praise;?And here every Sunday the people flock?To hear the Anthem the Foundlings raise.
AFTER CHAPEL,?See them all?Assembled in?The DINING HALL.
The bugle sounds?E'er grace is sung,--?Then fork and spoon?And lip and tongue
Clatter, chatter,--?Such a noise!?Oh! such happy?Girls and boys.
The Flower Woman
"Flowers sweet and fair, Sir,?Flowers that any?Princess might wear, Sir--?A bunch for a penny!"?Many a bunch?Must the flower-woman sell,?To buy food for herself,?And her children as well.
Cleopatra's Needle
Upon the broad Embankment?You'll find a curious sight,--?The children play around it?From morning until night;?And crowds of grown-up people?Come here to see it too,?'Tis Cleopatra's Needle?Folks gather thus to view.
In Mother's pretty work-box?There's no such needle shown;?This needle, brought from Egypt,?Is nothing but a stone.?How silently it watches?Old Thames go gliding by!?"You're very old," the River says,?"But not so old as I."
Think you it longs for Egypt,?This wondrous solemn stone,?That stands and gazes at us?Each day so