Hot-foot a little ragged boy came flying to Temple Bar;
He said he’d seen the brave array advancing to the Strand,
Preceded by the minstrelsy of all the Life Guards band;
He’d dodged beneath a horse, and ’scaped by dint of nimble feet,
Though a peeler tall, B 99, had chased him down the street.
Straightway each clerk and office boy his walnuts ceased to crack,
Forth from its hiding place was brought a hideous doll dyed black;
The dirty little boys ran out the soldiers to espy,
While in the crowd the pickpockets were faking many a cly.
* * * * *