How does it come? Why, as it goes,
By spinning, weaving, knitting hose,
By stitching shirts and coats for Jews,
Erecting churches, renting pews,
And manufacturing boots and shoes;
For thumps and twists, and cuts and hues,
And heads and hearts, tongues, lungs, and thumbs
And that's the way the money comes.
How does it come? The way is plain—
By raising cotton, corn, and cane;
By wind and steam, lightning and rain;
By guiding ships across the main;
By building bridges, roads, and dams,
And sweeping streets, and digging clams,
With whistles, hi's! ho's! and hums!
And that's the way the money comes.
The money comes—how did I say?
Not always in an honest way.
It comes by trick as well as toil,
But how is that? why, slick as oil,—
By putting peas in coffee-bags;
By swapping watches, knives, and nags,
And peddling wooden clocks and plums;
And that's the way the money comes.
How does it come?—wait, let me see,
It very seldom comes to me;
It comes by rule I guess, and seale,
Sometimes by riding on a rail,
But oftener, that's the way it goes
From silly belles and fast young beaux;
It comes in big, nay, little sums,
Ay! that's the way the money comes.
[THE FUTURE OF THE FASHIONS.—Punch.]
There was a time when girls wore hoops of steel,
And with gray powder used to drug their hair,
Bedaub'd their cheeks with rouge; white lead, or meal,
Added, to stimulate complexions fair;
Whereof by contrast to enhance the grace,
Specks of court-plaster deck'd the female face.
That fashion pass'd away, and then were worn
Dresses whose skirts came scarce below the knee,
With waists girt round the shoulder-blades, and scorn,
Now pointed at the prior finery,
When here and there some antiquated dame
Still wore it, to afford her juniors game.
Short waists departed; Taste awhile prevail'd
Till ugly Folly's reign return'd once more,
And ladies then went draggle-tail'd;
And now they wear hoops also, as before.
Paint, powder, patches, nasty and absurd,
They'd wear as well, if France had spoke the word.