_For the Table Book._
The Bazaar in Soho
Is completely the go.--
(_Song._)
Put it down in the bill
Is the fountain of ill,--
This has every shopkeeper undone--
Bazaars never trust, so down with your dust,
And help us to diddle all London.
(_Song._)
* * * * *
Oh how I’ve wish’d for some time back
To ride to the Bazaar,
And I declare the day looks fair
Now won’t you go, mamma?
For there our friends we’re sure to meet,
So let us haste away,
My cousins, too, last night told you,
They’d all be there to-day.
With a “How do you do,
Ma’am?” “How are you?
How dear the things all are!”
Throughout the day
You hear them say,
At fam’d Soho Bazaar.
Some look at this thing, then at that,
But vow they’re all too high;
“How much is this?”--“Two guineas, miss!”
“Oh, I don’t want to _buy_!”
Look at these pretty books, my love,
I think it soon will rain;
There’s Mrs. Howe, I saw her bow,
Why don’t you bow again?
With a “How do you do.
Ma’am?” “How are you?
How dear the things all are!”
Throughout the day
You hear them say,
At fam’d Soho Bazaar.
Just see that picture on the box,
How beautifully done!
“It isn’t high, ma’am, won’t you buy?
It’s only one pound one.”
How pretty all these bonnets look
With red and yellow strings;
Some here, my dear, don’t go too near,
You mustn’t touch the things.
With a “How do you do,
Ma’am?” “How are you?
How dear the things all are!”
Throughout the day
You hear them say,
At fam’d Soho Bazaar.
Miss Muggins, have you seen enough?
I’m sorry I can’t stay;
There’s Mrs. Snooks, how fat she looks
She’s coming on this way:
Dear madam, give me leave to ask
You,--how your husband is?--
Why, Mr. Snooks has lost his looks,
He’s got the _rheumatiz_!
With a “How do you do.
Ma’am?” “How are you?
How dear the things all are!”
Throughout the day
You hear them say,
At fam’d Soho Bazaar.
“Tom! see that girl, how well she walks
But faith, I must confess,
I never saw a girl before
In such a style of dress.”
“Why, really, Jack, I think you’re right,
Just let me look a while;
(_looking through his glass_)
I like her _gait_ at any rate,
But don’t quite like her _style_.”
With a “How do you do,
Ma’am?” “How are you?
How dear the things all are!”
Throughout the day
You hear them say,
At fam’d Soho Bazaar.
“That vulgar lady’s standing there
That every one may view her;”--
“Sir, that’s my daughter;”--“No, not her;
I mean the next one to her:”
“Oh, that’s my niece,”--“Oh no, not her,”--
“You seem, sir, quite amused;”
“Dear ma’am,--heyday!--what shall I say?
I’m really quite confused.”
With a “How do you do,
Ma’am?” “How are you?
How dear the things all are!”
Throughout the day
You hear them say,
At fam’d Soho Bazaar.
Thus beaux and belles together meet,
And thus they spend the day;
And walk and talk, and talk and walk.
And then they _walk_ away.
If you have half an hour to spare,
The better way by far
Is here to lounge it, with a friend,
In the Soho Bazaar.
With a “How do you do,
Ma’am?” “How are you?
How dear the things all are!”
Throughout the day
You hear them say,
At fam’d Soho Bazaar.
* * * * *
~Omniana.~