Who among us has got the syphilis?
The medicine?
I do have a medicine for it-- no, wait.
This one here is for the tetanus and was administered
last to Slightly, who complained of Curly, Curly,
having stabbed him with his dinner fork.
"I do complain of itchy crotch," says Tootles.
"I do complain."
And all around, the Lost Boys are raising their hands.
"We do complain!"
"I complain of pus and of the scurvy."
"Yes, yes, we do!
We do complain."
"Let us then pretend that a new medicine has been sent.
Let us say that once taken, it will cure
in precisely an hour and a day.
You see, boys," says Wendy, "what you need are oranges."
"Yes, Wendy.
We have lately been getting them from the Tiger Lily.
See here?
A whole barrelful-full!"
But when it's the girl Wendy, who lies ill,
will you, Slightly, again then play at being doctor?
Tootles, again, complains of Peter.
Tootles would like to play at being doctor.
Miss Mermaid has a fair amount of skin showing.
Tiger Lily hardly knows just how to wear underwear.
"It is vulgar," she thinks is something mother might say.
And poor Tink.
Peter has locked her up again!
Peter has ordered that she be sent away
into her little skeleton cage for five nights and six days
again.
And her little life so short being spent away all
locked up in her Never-cage.
Dearest Tink, should you and I together
unionize against the Peter?
"Equal pay for equal work," we'll say?
We'll say.
Because we don't like those times he plays at being at--
when he plays at favorites, at least not with anyone else.
"We would all like some benefits," we'll say.
And what about old age?
Have you, Peter, a pension plan for us?
Shall there be a point system for how many times
you'll come to visit?
Well, except for poor Tink, who will be dead sometime
before the end of this year.