The cellars are engaged; 'tis idle talk
To ask for bedding on the billiard-table—
Two families are there, each side of baulk.
Next morn he fain would wash in ocean's spray (there's
Balm in the waves that helps you to forget),
And lo! the deep is simply stiff with bathers;
He has no chance of even getting wet.
He starves as never in the age of rations;
The fishy produce of the boundless sea
Fails to appease the hungry trippers' passions