Exchange is now quoted at 1–5⅞"
C & M Gazette, December 17th.

    I am a man of culture small
       With seven mouths to fill,
    And do not understand at all
       Why money can't keep still;
    Bi-metallism is to me
    A grim unfathomed mystery.

    Years back—ere Mrs Smith was fat
       Or I an ardent lover,
    The fraudulent Rupee stood at
       Two 'bob' and something over.
    I led her to the altar—then
    It altered too, to one and ten.

    Years passed, and children came with years
    Demanding food and drink,
    And raiment oft—we watched with tears
    The vengeful token sink—
    Sink with each new born innocent—
    Nine, eight and seven—down it went!

    We sent them overseas to flee
       The fate that dogged their path,
    And fed with all economy
       Our babe-denuded hearth.
    A fourth was born. Next day with pain
    I read—'Exchange is down again.'

    That was two weary years ago
       No other child succeeding,
    I hoped 'twould take the hint—but no,
       Exchange dropped down unheeding,
    To fractions past my counting—Yet
    Another filled the bassinette.