I wish she was dumb!
Poor, dear little thing! it cannot get to sleep. By, by; by, by, hush-a-by. Well, then, it shan’t. (dances the Child, and then sets it on his lap, between his knees, and sings the common nursery ditty)
Dancy, baby, diddy;
What shall daddy do widdy?
Sit on his lap,
Give it some pap—
Dancy, baby, diddy.
(After nursing it upon his lap, Punch sticks the Child against the side of the stage, on the platform, and going himself to the opposite side, runs up to it, clapping his hands and crying, “Catchee, catchee, catchee!” He then takes it up again, and it begins to cry.)
What is the matter with it? Poor thing! it has got the stomach-ache, I dare say. (Child cries) Hush-a-by, hush-a-by! (sitting down, and rolling it on his knees) Naughty child! Judy, (calling) the child has got the stomach-ache. Judy, I say! (Child continues to cry) Keep quiet, can’t you? (hits it a spank) I won’t keep such a naughty child. Hold your tongue! (strikes the Child’s head several times against the side of the stage) There—there—there! How do you like that? I thought I’d stop your squalling. Get along with you, naughty, crying child! (throws it over the front of the stage among the spectators) He, he, he! (laughing and singing to the same tune as before)
Get away, naughty baby;