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! 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? A couple of ten pun notes sewn up, in its little gownd! Also in its little close, was a note which did conwey That this little baby's parents lived in a handsome way And for his Headucation they reglarly would pay, And sirtingly like gentlefolks would claim the child one day, If the Christian people who'd charge of it would say, Per adwertisement in The Times where the baby lay. Pity of this bayy many people took, It had such pooty ways and such a pooty look; And there came a lady forrard (I wish that I could see Any kind lady as would do as much for me); 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, Comes a letter from Devonshire, from a party there, Hordering the Doctor, at its Mar's desire, To send the little Infant back to Devonshire. Lost in apoplexity, this pore meddicle man, Like a sensable gentleman, to the Justice ran; Which his name was Mr. Hammill, a honorable beak, That takes his seat in Worship Street, four times a week. "O Justice!" says the Doctor, "instrugt me what to do. I've come up from the country, to throw myself on you; My patients have no doctor to tend them in their ills, (There they are in Suffolk without their drafts and pills!) "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, And I want to go back to Suffolk, dear Justice, if you please, And my patients wants their Doctor, and their Doctor wants his feez." 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 To go for to leave that Hinnocent, has the law allows, To the tender mussies of the Union House.