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In order to keep us all smiling during our time of confinement, and isollation I think a little smile would not go amiss. So here is a little Victorian melodrama. Please don't become too sad.
A mother was washing her baby one night,
the youngest if ten and a delicate mite.
The mother was poor and the baby was thin,
Twas naught but a skeleton covered in skin.The mother turned 'round for the soap orf the rack
she was only a moment but when she turned back
her baby had gorn, and in anguish she cried
Oh where is my baby? The angels replied.Oh your baby has gorn down the plug hole
Oh your baby has gorn down the plug.
The poor little thing was so skinny and thin
he should have been washed in a jug.Your baby is perfectly happy
He won't need a bath anymore
he's muckin about with the angels above,
Not lorst but gone before.Don't have nightmare.
Good Night
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