D'ya think I could do it, Foolestroupe? Gee, I always thought I had a great falsetto....
Enter LITTLE BUTTERCUP, with large basket on her arm
Hail, men-o'-war's men-safeguards of your nation
Here is an end, at last, of all privation;
You've got your play--spare all you can afford
To welcome Little Buttercup on board.
For I'm called Little Buttercup--dear Little Buttercup,
Though I could never tell why,
But still I'm called Buttercup--poor little Buttercup,
Sweet Little Buttercup I!
I've snuff and tobaccy, and excellent jacky,
I've scissors, and watches, and knives
I've ribbons and laces to set off the faces
Of pretty young sweethearts and wives.
I've treacle and toffee, I've tea and I've coffee,
Soft tommy and succulent chops;
I've chickens and conies, and pretty polonies,
And excellent peppermint drops.
Then buy of your Buttercup--dear Little Buttercup;
Sailors should never be shy;
So, buy of your Buttercup--poor Little Buttercup;
Come, of your Buttercup buy!
BOAT. Aye, Little Buttercup--and well called--for you're the
the roundest, and the reddest beauty in all Spithead.
BUT. Red, am I? and round--and rosy! Maybe, for I have
But hark ye, my merry friend--hast ever thought that beneath a
gay and frivolous exterior there may lurk a canker-worm which is slowly but surely eating its way into one's very heart?