THE PRECOCIOUS BABY

           A VERY TRUE TALE
                    by W. S. Gilbert

(To be sung to the Air of the "Whistling Oyster.")

An elderly person--a prophet by trade--
          With his quips and tips
          On withered old lips,
He married a young and a beautiful maid;
          The cunning old blade,
          Though rather decayed,
He married a beautiful, beautiful maid.

She was only eighteen, and as fair as could be,
          With her tempting smiles
          And maidenly wiles
And he was a trifle of seventy-three:
          Now what she could see
          Is a puzzle to me,
In a prophet of seventy--seventy-three!

Of all their acquaintances bidden (or bade)
          With their loud high jinks
          And underbred winks
None thought they'd a family have--but they had;
          A singular lad
          Who drove 'em half mad,
He proved such a horribly fast little cad.

For when he was born he astonished all by,
          With their "Law, dear me!"
          "Did ever you see."
He'd a weed in his mouth and a glass in his eye,
          A hat all awry--
          All octagon tie,
And a miniature--miniature glass in his eye.

He grumbled at wearing a frock and a cap,
          With his "Oh dear, no!"
          And his "Hang it! 'oo know!"
And he turned up his nose at his excellent pap--
          "My friends, it's a tap
          Dat is not worf a rap."
(Now this was remarkably excellent pap.)

He'd chuck his nurse under the chin, and he'd say,
          With his "Fal, lal, lal"--
          " 'Oo doosed fine gal!"
This shocking precocity drove 'em away:
          "A month from to-day
          Is as long as I'll stay--
Then I'd wish, if you please, for to go, if I may."

His father, a simple old gentleman, he
          With nursery rhyme
          And "Once on a time,"
Would tell him the story of "Little Bo-P,"
          "So pretty was she,
          So pretty and wee,
As pretty, as pretty, as pretty could be."

But the babe, with a dig that would startle an ox,
          With his " C'ck!  Oh my!-- 
          Go along wiz 'oo, fie!"
Would exclaim, "I'm afraid 'oo a socking ole fox."
          Now a father it shocks,
          And it whitens his locks
When his little babe calls him a shocking old fox.

The name of his father he'd couple and pair
          (With his ill-bred laugh,
          And insolent chaff)
With those of the nursery heroines rare;
          Virginia the fair,
          Or Good Goldenhair,
Till the nuisance was more than a prophet could bear.

"There's Jill and White Cat" (said the bold little brat,
          With his loud, " Ha, ha!")
          " 'Oo sly ickle pa!
Wiz 'oo Beauty, Bo-Peep, and 'oo Mrs. Jack Sprat!
          I've noticed 'oo pat
          My pretty White Cat--
I sink dear mamma ought to know about dat!"

He early determined to marry and wive,
          For better or worse
          With his elderly nurse--
Which the poor little boy didn't live to contrive:
          His health didn't thrive--
          No longer alive,
He died an enfeebled old dotard at five!

               MORAL

Now elderly men of the bachelor crew,
          With wrinkled hose
          And spectacled nose,
Don't marry at all--you may take it as true
          If ever you do
          The step you will rue,
For your babes will be elderly--elderly too.