Has wooed them away, with their flaxen hair

And laughing eyes, we don't know where,

And no one can tell where they're banished.

"Where are the children?" cries Madam Haut-ton,

"Allow me, my sons and daughters,—

Fetch them, Annette!" What, madam, those?

Children! such exquisite belles and beaux:—

True, they're in somewhat shorter clothes

Than the most of Dame Fashion's supporters.

Good day, Master Eddy! Young man about town,—

A merchant down in the swamp's son;

In a neat little book he makes neat little bets:

He doesn't believe in the shop cigarettes,

But does his own rolling,—and has for his pets

Miss Markham and Lydia Thompson.

He and his comrades can drink champagne

Like so many juvenile Comuses;

If you want to insult him, just talk of boys' play,—

Why, even on billiards he's almost blasé,

Drops in at Delmonico's three times a day,

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