By a Wretch.
When lovely woman, hooped in folly,
Grows more expansive every day,
And makes her husband melancholy
To think what bills he’ll have to pay.
When in the width of fashion swelling,
With air-balloons her skirts may vie,
The truth—(what hinders Punch from telling?)—
Is that she looks a perfect Guy!
Punch, February 21, 1857.