And good-bye to this pestilent spouting!
Punch, October 11, 1884.
Three Fossils.
Three Fossils sat perched in the Whitehall Zoo,
Out far in the West where the sun goes down;
Each thought of his crotchet—the last one he knew;
And their fads and their whims were the talk of the town.
For men must work and women must weep,
Or there’ll be no money the Fossils to keep;