On thin carpet there squatted a child born unlovely. He festered 'neath the table and the dinner guests swore that he ate a beetle and then smiled! "But, oh, that's nonsense! He's never eaten any insects...
though his chin is agleam whith drool and manu-jointed legs..."

On thin carpet they stood and each guest lulled the little larva but reluctantly; so ugly! And he smelled like rotten codfish! And besides, he squirmed and whrithed and in a sudden fit of tears he took the Colonel by the ears and bit him on the nose and grunted! (Blood on his crooked lips!)

On thin carpet they gasped and shieked and coattails and lace unceremoniously recoiled from the unlovely lullaby baby! And to the carpet he did plummet! And each guest did watch him hit and saw how his small skull did split and out crawled broken beetles and a surge of crimson froth! (Blood on the thin carpet!) (Blood on his crooked lips!)

"Shall we withdraw to the parlor for aperitifs?"
"Yes, and mu nose needs a bandage."
"I find the present support for workhouse reforms disturbing."
"I have a cousin in Marshalsea."
"Sunday or Monday, we're leaving for Retchingsted."
"No, I don't think I'll ever have children..."