She read the “appealing” stanza again.

“Hélas!—Le pauvre bébé!

What will its muzzer do?

It is sans la bouteille

Which it suck all the ze day through!

Hélas!—Le pauvre bébé!

It can do nozing but cry!

For its fazer, ze ‘Tommy’ has gone!

Saying ‘adieu!’ bye-bye!”

She threw down the journal in a rage—a real rage this time.