On the way to the British Museum by Felix Leigh

Not far from the British Museum there stands

An apple stall, painted bright green, / Whence a penny may buy from the stall-keeper's hands / Three apples, all rosy and clean.

Now the girls of St. George's great Charity School / Very often are passing that way, / For their governors wise make this very good rule -- / They must go for a walk every day.

How wistful the glances they cast as they pass, / How they long for an apple to eat; / But their pockets are quite without pennies, alas! / To purchase so dainty a treat.

These maidens have cheeks that are rosy and sweet / As the choicest of fruit on the stall, / And the very next time that we meet in this street, / I'll buy apples enough for them all.

Goodness gracious! What a noise / Baby Bunting's bent on making; / It is quite enough to set / All the heads around him aching. / Still we're sure that Baby has / Many griefs if we could see 'em, / For with other babes he's come / Miles and miles to the Museum. / Baby Bunting thought, of course, / When he said good bye to mother, / That he'd pass in through the gates / With big sister and big brother. / But poor Baby finds, alas, / That his little hopes have flitted, / For the nasty notice says / "Babes in arms are not admitted."