PUNCH. No; one at a time, one at a time, my sweet pretty wife! (_aside_) She always is so playful. Where's the child? Fetch me the baby, Judy, my dear. JUDY. The baby? I'm afraid that she is asleep--I'll go down and see. [_Exit JUDY._ PUNCH (_solus_). There's a wife for you! What a precious, darling creature! She go to fetch our baby. _Re-enter JUDY with the BABY._ JUDY. Here's the child. Pretty dear! Take the baby. PUNCH (_holding out his hands_). Give it me--pretty little thing! How like its sweet mamma! JUDY. How awkward you are! PUNCH. Give it me; I know how to nurse it as well as you do. (_she gives it him_) Get away! (_Exit JUDY. PUNCH, nursing the CHILD in his arms_) What a pretty baby it is! was it sleepy then? Hush-a-by, by, by. (_sings to the tune of "_Rest thee, Babe_"_) Oh, rest thee, my baby, Thy daddy is here; Thy mammy's a gaby, And that's very clear. Oh, rest thee, my darling, Thy mother will come, With a voice like a starling;-- I wish she was dumb! Poor, dear little thing! it cannot get to sleep. By, by; by, by, hush-a-by. Well, then, it shan't. (_dances the CHILD, and then sets it on his lap, between his knees, and sings the common nursery ditty_) Dancy, baby, diddy; What shall daddy do widdy? Sit on his lap, Give it some pap-- Dancy, baby, diddy. (_After nursing it upon his lap, PUNCH sticks the CHILD against the side of the stage, on the platform, and going himself to the opposite side, runs up to it, clapping his hands and crying, "_Catchee, catchee, catchee!_" He then takes it up again, and it begins to cry._) What is the matter with it? Poor thing! it has got the stomach-ache, I dare say. (_CHILD cries_) Hush-a-by, hush-a-by! (_sitting down, and rolling it on his knees_) Naughty child! Judy, (_calling_) the child has got the stomach-ache. Judy, I say! (_CHILD continues to cry_) Keep quiet, can't you? (_hits it a spank_) I won't keep such a naughty child. Hold your tongue! (_strikes the CHILD'S head several times against the side of the stage_) There--there--there! How do you like that? I thought I'd stop your squalling. Get along with you, naughty, crying child! (_throws it over the front of the stage among the spectators_) He, he, he! (_laughing and singing to the same tune as before_) Get away, naughty baby; There it goes over. Thy mammy's a gaby, Thy daddy's a rover. [Illustration] _Re-enter JUDY._ JUDY. Where is the baby? PUNCH. Gone--gone to sleep. JUDY. What have you done with the child, I say? PUNCH. Gone to sleep, I say. JUDY. What have you done with it? PUNCH. What have I done with it? JUDY. Aye; done with it! I heard it crying just now. Where is it? PUNCH. How should I know? JUDY. I heard you make the pretty darling cry. PUNCH. I dropped it out at window.