A LOST CHILD ITS OWN CRIER.
A MONSTER OF INIQUITY.
“Oh Lord! oh dear, my heart will break, I shall go stick stark, staring wild!
Has ever a one seen any thing about the streets like a crying lost-looking child?
Lawk help me, I don’t know where to look, or to run, if I only knew which way—
A Child as is lost about London streets, and especially Seven Dials, is a needle in a bottle of hay.
I am all in a quiver—get out of my sight, do, you wretch, you little Kitty M’Nab!
You promised to have half an eye to him, you know you did, you dirty deceitful young drab.