Evening News (London), June 15, 1903
A club for babies has been formed in Paris.—Daily paper.
Time was when baby rarely strayed
From out the nursery door.
With rocking-horse and bricks he played,
Nor found the task a bore.
With soldiers deftly wrought of tin,
He’d wage a mimic battle;
The pleasant humming-top he’d spin,
Or work the gleesome rattle.
But then a fatal day there came,
He asked to join a club.
A friend (aged two) put up his name—
I had to pay his sub.—
Twelve guineas down, an annual eight—
And baby was elected;
The net result, I grieve to state,
Was not what I expected.
His habits altered for the worse,
For toys he cared no rap;
He sneered when offered by his nurse
Some quite delightful pap.
With “Nanna” he declined to stay,
Though knowing she adored him;
Off to the club he’d wend his way;
He said that females bored him.
But now that time of sorrow’s o’er,
And past those days of pain;
At length upon his native floor
Our baby’s back again.
He says he couldn’t stand the wine—
I heard the true cause later—
It seems they asked him to resign
For playing with a waiter!
Printed unsigned in newspaper; entered by Wodehouse in Money Received for Literary Work.