  Life has its little ups, and downs, As has been very truly said, And Mr. Brown, Of Camden Town (Alas! the gentleman is dead), Found out how quickly Fortune's smile May turn to Fortune's frown; And how a sudden rise in life May bring a person down. He lived—as I remarked before— Within a highly genteel square At Camden Town, Did Mr. Brown (He had been born and brought up there); But—waxing richer year by year— Grew prosperous and fat, And left the square at Camden Town To take a West End flat. With such appointments on each floor As Mr. Brown At Camden Town Had never, never seen before: Electric lights; hydraulic lifts, To take one up and down; And telephones to everywhere. (These quite bewildered Brown.) The elevator pleased him most; To ride in it was perfect bliss. "I say!" cried Brown, "At Camden Town We'd nothing half as good as this." From early morn till dewy eve He spent his time—did Brown— In being elevated up, And elevated down. One night—I cannot tell you why— When all the household soundly slept, Poor Mr. Brown (Late Camden Town) Into the elevator stept; It stuck midway 'twixt floor and floor, And when they got it down, They found that it was all U.—P. With suffocated Brown. As someone said in days of yore. They buried Brown At Camden Town (The place where he had lived before); And now, alas! a-lack-a-day! In black and solemn gowns, Disconsolate walk Mrs. Brown And all the little Browns.
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