A related song, since in thought it has the same intent. Especially compare verse 10, concerning the doctor (mentioned in Randolph in note to the 'Dodger' song). This one from 1905.
^^
SONG OF THE TIMES

Now a song I will sing you in jingles and rhymes
About matters and things in these curious times,
And a lesson to all I hope it will be
When I sing about things that I every day see.
These queer times, these queer times.

I see the little boys, just from their mamas,
Think themselves men because they puff their cigars.
They'd better be at home playing with toys
Then parading the streets and saying 'I'm one of the boys.'
These fast times, these fast times.

And there's the modern young lady, all the time reading sonnets,
Romances, and novels, and wearing queer bonnets;
She'll screw up her waist till she cannot sneeze,
Wear a hump on her back, and a dress without sleeves.
These are queer times, these are queer times.

And I see the married ladies wear satins for dress
When their husbands are bankrupt and in great distress.
They had better be at home washing up dishes,
Darning old stockings, and mending their husband's old breeches,
These hard times, these hard times.

There's the blacksmith, who lives by the sweat of his brow,
And there's the old farmer, who follows his plow;
Each a very good man, in his own conceit,
But get em' to trading, they both will cheat.
And it's hard times, it's hard times.

And there's the Old Baptist. he'll come on the stage,
He'll open his book, and he'll read you a page,
He'll tell you a tale for you to go by,
But give him a chance, he'll get drunk on the sly.
And it's hard times, it's hard times.

And the old Methodist, too, will exhort, and he'll pray,
He'll point you to Heaven the straight, narrow way,
He'll go to camp meeting, he'll shout and he'll cry,
But in a horse trade he will tell you a lie.
And it's hard times. it's hard times.

Next, the old Presbyterian, with grave, solemn face,
Will tell you salvation is all by God's grace;
You'll come when He 'draws you', you can't come before,
But still, if you don't come, to Hell you must go,
And this seems a hard case, a very hard case.

And now comes the Campbellite, preaching reform,
'Repent and be baptized,' in sunshine or storm;
He boasts of his 'good works,' owns to some evil too,
But all the good's for himself and the evil for you.
And it's hard times, it's hard times.

And there's the old doctor, I like to forgot.
I do think in my soul he's the worst of the flock;
He'll promise to cure you, for half you possess,
And when you are dead, he will go for the rest.

Oh, it's hard times, it's hard times.

And lastly, the lawyer, as certain as fate,
Will have a fat slice in winding up your estate,
And his Honor, the Judge, of the Probate, with ease
Gobbles up the remainder, in costs and in fees.
And then it's hard times, it's very hard times.

H. M. Belden, editor, 1940, "Ballads and Songs Collected by the Missouri Folk-Lore Society, Univ. Missouri Studies vol. 15, no. 1, pp. 433-434, communicated 1905 by Mary L. Goodwin, Lafayette County, MO.