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Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser, Volume 2, Issue 163, 8 February 1878, Page 3

[From the San Francisco News Letter of Dec. 29th., we clip the following, which iiqfbeen taken by that journal from Truth an English publication. The Committee of the Destitute Children's Dinner Society, of London are appealing to the public for founds. Lord Shaftesbury, Lord Ebury, and other gentlemen are on the Committee of the Society.] Tune— Poor Childben's Dinners. "My name, sir, 'c Bill, but they calls me ' Swipes,' The boys do down our alley. X)w many in the fam'ly?—Wby, we're nine, As one more 'd make ten, an 1 tally. No, I haint the helderest, sir; she is, Sfee nusem , the twins; that's Sally. Would I like some dinner?—o crikey! Yes! Ah, would't I rartber, jest! - ~ Lknow a cove what 'ad one wonst, Thro' a lord, wot lives down west. *Ad ?—Why, he 'ad 'ot meat, and sich ; But the pudden, he says, were best. What's my dinner ? Why, as to that, ~* We never sets down to none ; But mother gives us a lump o' bread, • An' a whack, an' says 'Orf you run !'. And we're 'ungrier than we was afore Soon after the toke is done. We gets some treacle sometimes, yer know, When mother^aeie**<>L«liariaV.-...-. *On Sundays mebbe a bit o' fish. But it's 'elped bncominon spairin'. *Ungered ?—l'd rather think I wos, Aβ for some days it feels past bearin'. JL orften searches 'caps of dust, -An' grubs all among the cinders; I know I shall prig some day, I shall, As I looks in them cook-shop winders ; That smoking plum duff is too much for me, An , it's only the glass what 'inders. An' taint to say that mother drinks, For she's never at the pub ; But it's horful, sir, that's wot it is, To be allers wantin' grub, An' to sniff the airies , day by day, •fWell, it most a-makes me blub. An' then them shops, where they shows the jints, An' pile the poultry hup, It dreffle 'ard on a kid like me, * As aint 'ad no bit nor sup, But a crust o' bread an , a swig or two At a drinkin' founting cup. Yes, Jack, the cove 'as 'ad the feed, Orften tells us wot he 'ad ; We set on a step, an' he jawrs on so, Till we all on us feels 'aff mad— Why, lanky Joe thrashed 'im well one day, For makin' 'im feel so bad. Wot! /am to 'aye a dinner, sir; Wot! a reg'lar blow-out like Jack 1 Wot! beef, an' dumplins, an' collyflour, An' pudden, and such like tack ? * I say, it isn't no Jarks now, eh ? An' yer won't be a drorin' back ? A tickut! 0, sir, God bless you, now! But d'ye think you'd mind, I say, m If, harfter all, I gived it to Sal ? I ebould like to if I may. She,e nussin , all day, sir, Sally is, An' never'gete no play. Can I give it up?— Well, it'sterble 'ard, But Sal 'ill enj'y it, she will, An' likes as not if I wos to go I should make myself quite ill, An' 'twill-be sieh a treat for 'er To 'aye for wonst 'er fi11... *• What would I say for two o , them cards? Why, I don't know, sir, that's flat! Sat I'd turn a dozen coach-wheels, tho', If there's any use in that! Say ?_Why, I want's,.to yell, I do, *"* An' to run an 1 toss up tay 'at! 0, sir, I must tell Sally, please, For 'twill cheer 'er up a bit, As she's werry mellenkerly like, Tho' she's only sich a chit; But the twins, they takes it out of 'er Which ther' ain't no doubt of it.

She will be glad, I know she will; An' she ain't so rough as I, Wot can't thank, the lords an' genn'lemen, 'Owever I might try ; • But she's a reg'lar scholard, sir, Tho" she be oncommon shy.

But it seems like a dream, ay, that it do, That I'm to 'aye reel roast beef, An' pudden, yer says, and mints pies, too, Why, it's almost past beleef ; God 'elp me to be a better kid, An' never to be a thief! An' 0, sir, please, there's lots o' coves, Aβ is 'ungry, jest like we; Theie's fifty up our alley, alone, As plays along with me ; Give 'em a dinner, too, if yer can, An' it's blest by Heav'n yer'll be 1" —Truth.