On rice, and oil, and oatmeal bread?
My Jimmy.
4th Mother.—
But who was it, with teeth like pearl,
And bright blue eyes, and sunny curl,
Was judged to be “the prettiest girl?”
My Jemimar.
(Hysterical, unlooked for, and utterly-out-of-place,
Chorus of Mothers): Singing:
“Ri-tol-looral, lal-looral, lal-looral, lal la!”
The Shilling Book of Beauty. Edited by Cuthbert Bede, 1856.
[Mrs. Gamp’s feelings are doubtless strong on this subject, and may be shared in, for aught we know, (though we very much doubt it), by a large number of “the women of England.” But we must confess that our feelings are so strongly opposed to these “Baby Shows”—which we think are cruel, degrading and disgusting exhibitions—that we should not have given insertion to Mrs. Gamp’s poetical effusion, had not Lady Slipslop kindly furnished us with an antidote, which will be found in the article next ensuing.—Ed. S. B. of B.]