KING ALFRED AND THE CAKES. 7

To get a drain. I’ve not much time to sport,
So what I do take must be something short.
[Tucks up his apron, takes off his nightcap, and exit.

[Enter GutuRuM, disguised as a peasant. He raps with

his knuckles on the counter.

 

GutH. Shop! Want—ed! Who’s at home? Does no one hear?
Who waits? Myself, it seems; egad, its queer:
Far from polite of them, it must be said—
A fancy baker’s! and no better bred! — [Sits down.
The news that we’ve been wopp’d and overthrown,
In this vicinity—is not yet known.
So I may chance to ’scape, and ne’er be scented ;
Th’ Electric Telegraph not being invented. [Knocks again.
They are—which makes my strong impatience stronger—
A good time coming—(Sits down again.) Wait a little longer!
[He becomes furiously impatient.