Something in the Papers

2 0 00

Something in the Papers

“What’s in the paper?” Oh, it’s dev’lish dull:

There’s nothing happening at all⁠—a lull

After the war-storm. Mr. Someone’s wife

Killed by her lover with, I think, a knife.

A fire on Blank Street and some babies⁠—one,

Two, three or four, I don’t remember, done

To quite a delicate and lovely brown.

A husband shot by woman of the town⁠—

The same old story. Shipwreck somewhere south.

The crew, all saved⁠—or lost. Uncommon drouth

Makes hundreds homeless up the River Mud⁠—

Though, come to think, I guess it was a flood.

’Tis feared some bank will burst⁠—or else it won’t;

They always burst, I fancy⁠—or they don’t;

Who cares a cent?⁠—the banker pays his coin

And takes his chances: bullet in the groin⁠—

But that’s another item. Suicide⁠—

Fool lost his money (serve him right) and died.

Heigh-ho! there’s noth⁠—Jerusalem! what’s this?

Tom Jones has failed! My God, what an abyss

Of ruin!⁠—owes me seven hundred, clear!

Was ever such a damned disastrous year!