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. 'T is 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!