<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<div class="transnote">
<h3>Transcriber's Note</h3>
<p>Minor punctuation inconsistencies have been silently corrected.
Variable, archaic and
unusual spelling as well as apparent printer's errors have been
retained as they appear in the original.
The poems "Bohemians, hail!" and
"Sonnet on shares" do not appear in the table of contents.</p>
</div>
<hr class="full" />
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo001a.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="194" alt="decoration" /></div>
<p class="center">
<big>SPOOK BALLADS</big><br/>
<small>BY</small><br/>
<strong>W. THEODORE PARKES.</strong></p>
<p class="center"><em>Crown 8vo, Cloth gilt, 5s.</em><br/>
<span class="smcap">Popular Edition 2s.</span></p>
<p class="center p2">LONDON:<br/>
<span class="smcap">Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent, & Co., Limited.</span></p>
<p class="center"><em>And all Booksellers.</em></p>
<p class="center p2"><strong>CHEERS OF THE PRESS!</strong></p>
<p class="prose bb">"Ingoldsby, Thomas Hood, W. S. Gilbert,—these are the names that
occur to one in trying to 'place' Mr. Parkes after reading this volume of
rollicking, verbal and pictorial fun. <span class="smcap">The Spook Ballads</span> are in no sense imitations
of any of those classics of the comic muse, yet we find in them the same
thorough abandonment to 'the humour of the thing.'"—<cite>The Publisher's Circular.</cite></p>
<p class="bb prose">"A substantial volume introducing a Comic Poet, who in the future
may give us a modern Ingoldsby. Mr. Parkes has an intellectual touch to
his drollery and his sense of the possible humours of versification is
pleasantly keen, the <span class="smcap">Spook Ballads</span> is far above the contemporary average
of the lighter rhymesters. Mr. Parkes wields a sprightly pencil, and he
has illustrated his verses lavishly and with effect."—<cite>The Stage.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"Not only are the literary merit of these fantastic ballads of a high
order, but the illustrations by the author are of such a humorous nature
as to give a unique pleasure to the reader."—<cite>The Morning Leader.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"Well written, well illustrated, and funny is a combination of good
qualities not often met with even in the Spook world, so Messrs. Simpkin,
Marshall, Hamilton, Kent, and Co., ought to be well pleased with their
publication."—<cite>The Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"Dealing largely with ghosts and legends embracing a dash of diablerie
such as would have been dear to the heart of Ingoldsby. There is a rugged
force in 'The Girl of Castlebar' that will always make it tell in recitation; and
even greater success in this direction has attended 'The Fairy Queen,' a story
unveiling the seamy side, with quaint humour and stern realism. It is specially
worthy of note that Mr. Parkes's skill in versification has received the warmest
acknowledgment from those best qualified to appreciate the bright local coloring
as well as the blending of fancy and fun."—<cite>Lloyd's Weekly Newspaper.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"A cheery and spirited production, and full of fun; the style reminds
one of 'Bon Gaultier,' the style and illustrations combined inevitably
recall the famous 'Bab Ballads.' Indeed it is hard to say which is the
most felicitous, the draughtsman or the poet."—<cite>The Bookseller.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"In the attractive <span class="smcap">Spook Ballads</span>, the talented Irish artist has
displayed qualities to a remarkable degree. There are many pieces reciters
will be glad to lay hold of, while the Ballads and Illustrations are full of
the pleasing humour which characterises all Mr. Parkes' work, and which
will serve to cheer and to amuse many readers."—<cite>The Sun.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"As the combined production of a clever pencil and a clever pen, this
volume may be said to be unique. These poems are pure fun of the most
entirely frolicsome kind, hung upon the peg of a quaint idea. 'The
German Band' rises to a really tragic pathos. The illustrations are either
quaint, droll, or dainty, or partake of broad caricature."—<cite>The Citizen.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"It contains a store of humour that will delight and amuse the reader,
who will be sure to re-read the many capital lays. Just the thing for
reciters. The Artist, his own Illustrator, shines here as conspicuously as
in the kindred branch of Authorship."—<cite>British and Colonial Printer and
Stationer.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"Mr. Parkes is clever and polished alike in the expression of humour
and pathos. Indescribably funny is his story of the deluge as told by
'Antediluvian Pat O'Toole,' and a note of grim tragedy is struck in the
tale of 'John McKune.' Rollicking lays, many of them admirably
adapted for recitation, go to make a delightful book, which has the uncommon
merit of being well illustrated by Mr. Parkes, who is as skilful an
artist as he is an author."—<cite>Photographic Journal.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"<span class="smcap">Spook Ballads</span> possess an amount of boisterous humour and variety
of quaint versification which make them excellent and refreshing reading.
The book owes a good deal of its charm to the author's clever and
laughable illustrations which are plentifully besprinkled in its pages."—<cite>The
Weekly Sun</cite>.</p>
<p class="prose bb">"There is a good store of pleasant humour in <span class="smcap">Spook Ballads</span>, by
Theodore Parkes, who also has a happy gift with the pencil, as witness
the illustrations, the fare he provides certainly deserves a really grateful
'grace after meat.'"—<cite>The People.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"In his attractive volume, <span class="smcap">The Spook Ballads</span>, Mr. Theodore Parkes
has shown himself to be not only an author but an artist of considerable
talents."—<cite>Weekly Budget.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"The fun is good humoured and light-hearted, and better than most
popular verse as to rhyme and metre. The illustrations are really clever
and range from broad farce to charming little head and tail pieces that are
graceful and suggestive."—<cite>Borderland.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"—— Ballads all of which are undeniably clever. A book which will
be gratefully turned to by all who seek occasional relaxation in the best of
good company."—<cite>The Surveyor.</cite></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo003b.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="102" alt="decoration" /></div>
<p class="prose bb">"A clever collection of poems illustrated by their author and deserve
great popularity. The author is well known in London literary circles in
which he has given several of the pieces here presented as recitations."—<cite>The
Lamp.</cite></p>
<p class="bb">"Irrespective of the pleasure to be derived from reading the Ballads,
the book is well worth obtaining for the author's remarkably clever
illustrations."—<cite>South London Press.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"A facile flow of versification, keen sense of humour, and a good
mastery of English as she is spoke by Irish, German and other nationalities,
as well as how she should be spoken, characterise this book of ballads.
The sketches are well adapted to the themes."—<cite>Manchester Courier.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"'The Colonel and the Cook' is not only genuine farce in conception,
but felicitous anti-pathos in the execution."—<cite>Manchester Guardian.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"These Ballads are as original and racy and facetious as any I have
come across for a long time; Parkes's pencil is a lively companion for his
pen; the two of them rollick and frolic down page after page in a state of
hilarity that would dissipate and dispose of the worst attack of 'blues.'
The sun does not shine every day, and when the hour is dark and dreary
there will be found enlivement and joviality and wholesome entertainment
within the covers of this volume."—<cite>Free Lance in the Weekly Irish Times.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"If any of our readers wish to enjoy a long and pleasant life let
them ask for <span class="smcap">Spook Ballads</span>! there is abundance of mirth, fun, wit and
merriment in this beautiful volume."—<cite>Munster Express.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"About as laugh-inspiring verse as perhaps ever issued from the
Press, the <span class="smcap">Spook Ballads</span> are one and all conceived in a most
exuberant spirit of drollery. There is a laugh almost in every line,
fun galore bubbles through every page. Where could one find a more
touching combination of humour and pathos than the dedication lines
'Bohemians Hail!' There are lines in it worthy of some of the best touches
of Poe. The book is a book for <cite>bon vivants</cite>. It is a veritable ode to conviviality,
and its pages teeming with most artistic illustrations. Alive with
ever-recurring flashes of wit and drollery, will afford many a pleasant hour
to all to whom a laugh is welcome."—<cite>United Ireland.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"A delightful diverting volume, from cover to cover, of the sixty-one
ballads before us; not one halts, they are all boisterous with bubbling mirth
and frolic. Happy the man who in a moment of ill humour, lights on a copy
of <span class="smcap">Spook Ballads</span>. Fun of this kind is contagious, and before he has
dipped far into Mr. Parkes' pages he will have forgotten his temper or
his ennui. The book is full too of social satire, with touches of biting
realism."—<cite>The Freeman's Journal.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"Most amusingly humorous verses cleverly and quaintly illustrated,
and, like all genuine humour, teaches many a needed and important lesson
in morals and the conduct of life, and hits sharp blows at hypocrisy and
current shams and humbugs. Surely the author must have had Jabez
Balfour and the Liberator swindle in his mind when he composed the scathing
ballad entitled 'The Devil in Richmond Park.'"—<cite>The Christian Age.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"This is a very charming and winning volume. Everything about
the book is an incentive to make a prompt acquaintance with its literary
merits. Mr. Parkes is a consummate artist in verse, and through all runs
the same vein of drollery, of pungency, of real humour difficult to resist,
and which makes us wish for more, and much more from so entertaining a
pen."—<cite>The Carlow Sentinel.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"A collection of humorous verses quaintly and cleverly illustrated by
his own pencil. The author has a broad vein of humour."—<cite>Evening News</cite>
(<em>London</em>).</p>
<p class="prose bb">"When parties perusing this volume have completed its 250 pages
they will only regret that it is not double its size."—<cite>The Irish Times.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"The naivete of the wit is most irresistible, and the humour most
amusing. 'The Ghost of Hampton Court' and 'The spirit that held him
down' are both decidedly clever, but it is to 'The Girl of Castlebar,' 'The
Fairy Queen' and 'Why did ye die?" we turn for all that is most original
and sparkling. The volume itself is as tastefully finished outside as it is
wittily furnished and illustrated inside."—<cite>King's County Chronicle.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"<span class="smcap">The Spook Ballads</span> will greatly amuse the class of readers who
prefer a good hearty laugh to the emotions produced by 'Paradise lost'
or 'Hamlet.' The book is crammed with fun of the funniest sort, though
it contains many passages which possess a value above mere jollity."—<cite>Glasgow
Herald.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"There is no lack of rollicking fun in <span class="smcap">The Spook Ballads</span>. The pieces
are always amusing in idea, and the free sweep of the verse has a certain
buoyancy which carries a reader pleasantly along."—<cite>The Scotsman.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"The humourous drawings are charming, and the figure subjects and
decorative designs show great versatility and skill. Mr. Parkes has a
wonderful way of introducing odd expressions, quaint conceits, and grotesque
imagery. Many a hearty laugh will be got out of the <span class="smcap">Spook Ballads</span>."—<cite>The
Aberdeen Journal.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"The illustrations by the Author copiously strewn throughout the
work are exceedingly clever, and are in themselves enough to commend the
book, and will appeal to readers endowed with a particle of humour.
Altogether the book is the kind to cheer the winter fireside or make the
summer holiday slide joyously into autumn."—<cite>Kirkudbrightshire Advertiser.</cite></p>
<p class="prose bb">"The pages abound in illustrations and marginal etchings, and these
display rare artistic skill and a genuine spirit of comicality."—<cite>The Derry
Journal.</cite></p>
<p class="prose">"John M'Kune is racy of the soil, and rests on something stranger
than fiction."—<cite>The Tyrone Constitution.</cite></p>
<hr class="full" />
<h1>THE SPOOK BALLADS.</h1>
<hr class="full" />
<div class="title">
<h2><small>THE</small><br/> <big>SPOOK BALLADS</big></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img007.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="434" alt="decoration" /></div>
<p class="center p2"><small>BY</small><br/>
WM. THEODORE PARKES</p>
<p class="center p2"><small><em>Author of "THE BARNEY BRADEY BROCHURES"</em></small></p>
<hr class="r5" />
<p class="center p4">ILLUSTRATED BY THE AUTHOR</p>
<hr class="r5" />
<p class="center p4"><small>LONDON:</small><br/>
SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, HAMILTON, KENT & Co., LIMITED.<br/>
1895</p>
</div>
<hr class="full" />
<h2>CONTENTS.</h2>
<table summary="contents">
<tr><th>THE SPOOK BALLADS</th>
<th class="tdr"><span class="smcap">Page</span></th>
</tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#The_Ghosts_of_Hampton_Court">THE GHOSTS OF HAMPTON COURT</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">1</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#Ye_Filial_Sacrafice">YE FILIAL SACRIFICE</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">13</td>
</tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#MADAM_STIFFINS">MADAME STIFFIN'S GHOST</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">17</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#Sonnet">SONNET ON PARTING</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">24</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#His_Bouquet">HIS BOUQUET</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">25</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#The_Girl_of_Castlebar">THE GIRL OF CASTLEBAR</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">29</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#THE_GERMAN_BAND">THE GERMAN BAND</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">34</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#OUT_OF_PLUMB">OUT OF PLUMB</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">38</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#A_Ward_in_the_Chancerie">A WARD IN THE CHANCERIE</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">39</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#The_Fairy_Queen">THE FAIRY QUEEN</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">45</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#The_Devil_in_Richmond_Park">THE DEVIL IN RICHMOND PARK</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">58</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#Saved">SAVED</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">63</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#A_Most_Remarkable_Case">A MOST REMARKABLE CASE</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">64</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#A_Tour_to">A TOUR TO SVITZERLAND</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">72</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#JOY">JOY! ON SEEING A FLYING SPRING</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">77</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#The_Mate_of_the_Mary_Anne">THE MATE OF THE MARY ANNE</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">78</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#AN_UMBRELLA_CASE">AN UMBRELLA CASE</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">83</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#The_Spook">THE SPOOK OF ROTTEN ROW</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">84</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#THE_MAGIC_SPECS">THE MAGIC SPECS</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">93</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#Ye_Curious_Tayle_of_Ye_Uncivil_Fight_of_Ye_Civil_Warre">YE CURIOUS TAYLE</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">95</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#Leather_Versus">LEATHER VERSUS LAW</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">105</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#HEADS_AND_TAILS">HEADS AND TAILS</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">110</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#The_Colonel_and_the_Cook">THE COLONEL AND THE COOK</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">111</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#The_Spirit_that_held_Him_Down">THE SPIRIT THAT HELD HIM DOWN</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">118</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#HIS_FUTURE_STATE">HIS FUTURE STATE</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">123</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#A_FIGHT_IN_THE_PHOENIX_PARK">A FIGHT IN THE PHŒNIX PARK</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">124</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#THE_ABDICATED_CROWN">AN ABDICATED CROWN</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">129</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#TEARS-IN-LAW">TEARS IN LAW</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">130</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#HE_FOLLOWED_THE_FOX">HE FOLLOWED THE FOX</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">133</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#THE_HONEST">THE HONEST YOUNG CASHIER</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">134</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#THE_ROAD_TO_LONDON">THE ROAD TO LONDON</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">139</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#ANTEDILUVIAN_PAT_OTOOLE">ANTEDILUVIAN PAT O'TOOLE</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">142</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#The_Lucky_Sixpence">THE LUCKY SIXPENCE</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">156</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#A_Wall_Flower_Sonnet">A WALLFLOWER SONNET</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">160</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#PARADOXICAL_WORDS">PARADOXICAL WORDS</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">161</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#A_CANTABILE_ON_MUSIC_ART_AND_LAW">A CANTABILE ON MUSIC, ART AND LAW</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">166</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#WOMANS_TEARS">WOMAN'S TEARS</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">170</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#HERADIC_FRUITS_OF_A_FAMILY_TREE">HERALDIC FRUITS</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">171</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#THE_POLIS_AND_THE_PRINCESS_GRANA_UILLE">THE POLIS AND THE PRINCESS GRANAUILLE</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">180</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#A_HORROR_OF">A HORROR OF LONDON TOWN</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">186</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#A_Confidential">A CONFIDENTIAL SONNET</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">188</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#A_TRAM_CAR_GHOST">A TRAM CAR GHOST</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">189</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#MARGATE">MARGATE SANDS</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">194</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#John_Mc_Kune">JOHN MCKUNE</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">195</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#ILL_GO_FOR_A_SOJER">I'LL GO FOR A SOJER</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">201</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#ODE_HERE">ODE HERE!</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">202</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#The_Smugglers">THE SMUGGLER'S FATE</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">203</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#THE_LATE">THE LATE FITZ-BINKS</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">213</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#A_FUGITIVE">A FUGITIVE KISS</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">216</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#THE_BEDROOM_CURSE_AND_THE_MURDERED_COCKATOO">THE BEDROOM CURSE</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">217</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#A_GUN_SOLO">A GUN SOLO</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">224</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#The_Semi-Grand_Piano">THE SEMI-GRAND PIANO</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">225</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#CANTICRANK">CANTICRANK</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">228</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#AN_ILL_WIND_BLEW_HIM_GOOD">AN ILL WIND BLEW HIM GOOD</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">230</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#A_KLEPTOMANIACS_DOOM">A KLEPTOMANIAC'S DOOM</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">231</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#CAUGHT_IN_THE_BREACH">CAUGHT IN THE BREACH</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">235</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#THE_GHOST">THE GHOST OF HIRAM SMIKE</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">236</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#WHY_DID_YE_DIE">WHY DID YE DIE?</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">239</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#A_PRETTY_LITTLE_LAND_I_KNOW">A PRETTY LITTLE LAND I KNOW</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">241</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#How">HOW THEY ENLIST</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">243</td></tr>
<tr><td><SPAN href="#THE_KINDERGARTEN">THE KINDERGARTEN WAY</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">245</td></tr>
</table></div>
<hr class="full" />
<h2>BOHEMIANS, HAIL!</h2>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo011.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="296" alt="Bohemians, hail!" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo011a.jpg" width-obs="118" height-obs="43" alt="The" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
<span class="hide">The</span>
daylight dreams of many a time,</div>
<div class="i0">When song, and rhythmic story,</div>
<div class="i0">Were tuned, and voiced for Bigot, and in gay Bohemian ears,</div>
<div class="i0">
Bring welcome wraiths of joyous nights, thro' whirling clouds of glory;</div>
<div class="i2">The incense of the social weed, o'er spirit cup that cheers.</div>
<div class="i0">With hail! to Cycle speedmen, and the boaters of Dunleary,</div>
<div class="i2">Clontarf, and the Harmonic, where we sang with midnight chimes,</div>
<div class="i0">The smokers of Conservatives, and Liberal Unions cheery,</div>
<div class="i2">I weave regretful tribute to their jovial social times;</div>
<div class="i0">For autumn gales of life have blown those festal hours asunder,</div>
<div class="i2">And scattered far by land and sea, the steps of many a one,</div>
<div class="i0">And some alas! beneath the sod, for evermore gone under,</div>
<div class="i2">Have left a rainbow thro' the mist of grief that they have won.</div>
<div class="i0">But slantha! to the hearts, and hands, of those who yet remaining,</div>
<div class="i2">Do carry down traditions of that bright Bohemian throng,</div>
<div class="i0">And slantha! to the soulful sheen, of life-light never waning</div>
<div class="i2">From Old Eblana's heaven of her social art, and song.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">And here's to all Bohemians, of whatever rank, or station,</div>
<div class="i2">Whatever tint, or black or tan, or creed you are by birth,</div>
<div class="i0">Sweet voices of the earth's romance, of every land, or nation,</div>
<div class="i2">Hail! brothers, in the carnival of music, song, and mirth:</div>
<div class="i0">So fill we tankards, or the glass, for draught with lusty cheering,</div>
<div class="i2">Of honor to a crowning toast, with greeting heart and hand,</div>
<div class="i0">As everlasting goal, for letters, art, and song, and beering,</div>
<div class="i2">Hip, hip, hurrah! vive! hoc! and skoal! to Fleet Street and the Strand!</div>
</div></div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo012ab.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="135" alt="decoration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="The_Ghosts_of_Hampton_Court">THE GHOSTS OF HAMPTON COURT</SPAN></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illoghosts.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="688" alt="The Ghosts of Hampton Court" /></div>
<div class="prose">
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illoina.jpg" width-obs="50" height-obs="65" alt="IN" />
THE following verses, a remarkable supernatural
interview is narrated. It is now for the first time
launched into publicity, on the authority, and with the approbation of a
quaint old friend of mine, Professor Simon Chuffkrust, a savant who has
daringly groped his way through certain gloomy mysteries of occult science.</p>
<p>The confidential and impressive manner of Chuffkrust, is jewelled with
eyes of sparkling jet, semitoned behind a screen of moonblue spectacles.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_2" id="Page_2">2</SPAN></span>
His voice is of such convincing suasion, that it is a novel and interesting
experience to hear him relate with circumstantial enthusiasm, the ghostly
interview afforded him by a fortuitous chance within the interesting
grounds of Hampton Court. His is a testimony most reliable, and
calculated to establish as a fact the actual presence of supernatural
shadows in that historic locality.</p>
<p>It also hints at the necessity, and use, of making the ghost a more
familiar study, whereby the belated world would rid itself of much
unnecessary fright, consequent on the invariable habit of spasmodically
avoiding the familiar advances of the common or bedroom spook.</p>
</div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">I</div>N Hampton Court I wandered on a twilight evening grey,</div>
<div class="i0">Amidst its mazy precincts I had lost my tourist way,</div>
<div class="i0">And while I cogitated, on a seat of carven stone,</div>
<div class="i0">I heard beneath an orange tree, an elongated groan!</div>
<div class="i0">I crinkled with astonishment, 'twas not a fit of fright,</div>
<div class="i0">For loud elastic wailings, I have heard at twelve at night,</div>
<div class="i0">The midnight peace disturbing in the lamplit streets below,</div>
<div class="i0">But this was uttered in an unfamiliar groan of woe,</div>
<div class="i0">And Hampton Court I wot had got some questionable nooks,</div>
<div class="i0">In which it harboured spectres, and disreputable spooks,</div>
<div class="i0">In which it shrouded headless Queens, and shades of evil Kings</div>
<div class="i0">With ill-conditioned titled knaves, in lemans leading strings.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I listened! 'twas a voice that cried as 'twere from out the dust</div>
<div class="i0">Of time, that clogged its music, with a husk of mould and rust,</div>
<div class="i0">A voice that once as tenor, might have won a slight repute,</div>
<div class="i0">But combination now of asthma, whooping cough, and flute.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I sauntered towards the orange tree, and lo! the gloaming thro'</div>
<div class="i0">I saw a man in trunk and hose, and silver buckled shoe,</div>
<div class="i0">With ruffles and embroidered vest, in wig without a hat,</div>
<div class="i0">Inclining to the contour, which is designated fat.</div>
<div class="i0">Just then the waxing moonlight bloomed behind, and lifed the stain</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illopage15.jpg" width-obs="100" height-obs="223" alt="illustration" /></div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_3" id="Page_3">3</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">Of color thro' him, like a Saint upon a window pane,</div>
<div class="i0">I could not spare such noted chance; so stepping from the gloom,</div>
<div class="i0">I bowed politely and exclaimed</div>
<div class="i2">"A Spectre I presume?"</div>
<div class="i0">With glad pathetic wondered look, but still in tones of woe,</div>
<div class="i0">He answered thus, "Alack! ah me I am exactly so"</div>
<div class="i0">And confidential gleam of hope across his features grew,</div>
<div class="i0">Which gave me courage thus to start a social interview.</div>
<div class="i0">"I pray of thee to speak, alas! why grims it so with thee?</div>
<div class="i0">Some evil canker nips thy peace, divulge thy wrongs to me,</div>
<div class="i0">That I may give thee hope, for I am one to sympathize</div>
<div class="i0">With manhood's lamentation, as with womanhood, her sighs,</div>
<div class="i0">But ha! Mayhap it fits your jest, with elongated groan,</div>
<div class="i0">To seek to fright me, as I'm here in Hampton Court alone,</div>
<div class="i0">To wreck my spirits as of old has been the game of spook,"</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/img15ba.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="237" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="i0">The spectre turned upon me with a sad reproachful look.</div>
<div class="i0">And cried, "Alack! that living men, so long have held it good,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_4" id="Page_4">4</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">To flee from Ghosts, and hence the Ghost is not yet understood,</div>
<div class="i0">Now as for me, I moan it not, for jest of idle sport,</div>
<div class="i0">My task, it is as murdered Ghost, to haunt in Hampton Court!</div>
<div class="i0">I play the victim to a spook, who chucked me down a stair,</div>
<div class="i0">Thro' being caught too near my lady's bedroom unaware."</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Poor shade of ill mischance!" I sobbed, the while a wayward tear,</div>
<div class="i0">Tricked out along my nose, and lodged upon my tunic here,</div>
<div class="i0">"I pray that thou would'st tell me all, withholding ne'er a jot,</div>
<div class="i0">For I might do thee service, in some most unlikely spot,"</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"O blessed chance!" the Ghost exclaimed, "Thou art the only one</div>
<div class="i0">Of all men else, who spoke me so, they always turn and run!</div>
<div class="i0">Thou art the first, that I have seen drop sympathetic tears,</div>
<div class="i0">Responsive to my moanings, aye for full one hundred years!</div>
<div class="i0">And so I feel that I can speak in unreserving tone,</div>
<div class="i0">And give thee cause for this alack! my chronic nightly groan!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">When I was in my thirties, I engaged to mind the spoons,</div>
<div class="i0">Of Colonel Sir John Bouncer, of the Sixty-fifth Dragoons,</div>
<div class="i0">And tho' of lowly stature, I am proud I was by half,</div>
<div class="i0">More manly than the footman, by step, and chest, and calf.</div>
<div class="i0">With frontispiece well favored, in a frame of powdered wig,</div>
<div class="i0">I wot amongst the female sex, I joyed a game of tig,</div>
<div class="i0">I played the captivating spark, till Colonel Bouncer caught</div>
<div class="i0">Me jesting with my Mistress, and he spake with furious haught,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_5" id="Page_5">5</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">Expressed him his disfavor loud, unto my Lady thus,</div>
<div class="i0">"An' thou do not discharge the knave, 'twill cause some future fuss,</div>
<div class="i0">The cock-a-dandy bantam, pillory graduate, and scoff</div>
<div class="i0">On manhood, give him notice!" but no, she begged me off.</div>
</div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">It was not long thereafter, an early postman bore</div>
<div class="i0">A warrant for the Colonel, to start for Singapore,</div>
<div class="i0">He sailed, and in the August, 'twas just ten months away</div>
<div class="i0">He stayed, and he was due in town, upon the first of May,</div>
<div class="i0">Twas on that ninth of August at twelve o'clock at night,</div>
<div class="i0">'Thro Bouncer Hall I wandered, to see that all was right;</div>
<div class="i0">And in my course of searching, to check the silver stock,</div>
<div class="i0">I chanced upon the key, with which my Lady wound the clock,</div>
<div class="i0">A Louis clock she valued, it was on the mantel shelf</div>
<div class="i0">In her boudoir, her habit was to wind it up herself,</div>
<div class="i0">I brought it to her bedroom, and scratched a single knock,</div>
<div class="i0">And asked her through the keyhole, if she had wound the clock.</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo017a.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="204" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">My words were scarcely uttered, when from another door,</div>
<div class="i0">I heard a foot, that should have been that night in Singapore!</div>
<div class="i0">I saw an eye, that should have seen that night a foreign shore,</div>
<div class="i6">"Ha! Caitiff knave!!" He shouted,</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas all I heard, no more,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_6" id="Page_6">6</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">He collared me by neck, and breech, and swept me off the floor,</div>
<div class="i6">And bore me down the corridor,</div>
<div class="i0">And hoisting me as light as cork, an act I could not check,</div>
<div class="i0">He flung me down the oaken stair, and wanton cracked my neck!</div>
<div class="i0">For that he paid the penalty, one day on Tyburn tree,</div>
<div class="i0">Alack! it was the sorest deed, the Law could wreak for me</div>
<div class="i0">For when it made a Ghost of him, he came, and sought me out,</div>
<div class="i0">Where haunting at my Lady's door, I heard the self-same shout,</div>
<div class="i2">Of "Caitiff knave!!"</div>
<div class="i4">The pity on't! he took me unaware,</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo018a.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="318" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="i0">Once more by gripping of my breech, and tossed me down the stair!</div>
<div class="i0">Night after night he compassed it, nor recked he who was there</div>
<div class="i0">But by my crop, and grip of trunks, he bumped me down the stair!</div>
<div class="i0">Thus mortified by evil fate, his widow nightly wept,</div>
<div class="i0">To hear the periodic row, and scarce a wink she slept;</div>
<div class="i0">She daily sought to lay his ghost by penance and by prayer,</div>
<div class="i0">And got a brace of saintly monks, to exorcise the scare</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_7" id="Page_7">7</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">With holy water sprinked about, a jot he did not care!</div>
<div class="i0">But seized me with a fiercer grip, and jocked me down the stair!</div>
<div class="i0">And mocked the frightened monks, who flew, with fringe of standing hair.</div>
<div class="i0">At last his widow could not reck his evil conduct there,</div>
<div class="i10">She moved to otherwhere.</div>
<div class="i0">The only tenants that remained in Bouncer Hall, were rats,</div>
<div class="i0">Until 'twas taken down, to build some fashionable flats,</div>
<div class="i0">And when the workmen moved the stair, I wot he was cut up,</div>
<div class="i0">To see its broken banisters, upon a cart put up.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">But vengeance of his hate for me, remained a danger yet,</div>
<div class="i0">To find a suitable resort, to work it out he set,</div>
<div class="i0">And tapped the telephone, until he heard of that resort;</div>
<div class="i0">It is an antient oaken stair, that's here in Hampton Court,</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas vacant of a Ghost, I faith, a lobby to be let,</div>
<div class="i0">And with some Royal Spook, he had a ghostly compact set,</div>
<div class="i0">And then he brought me here to work, his midnight murder yet.</div>
<div class="i0">An hour ago, accosting me, says he to me, "Prepare!</div>
<div class="i0">Be ready! for once more to-night, I'll crock thee down the stair!</div>
</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo019a.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="217" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">To-night, a cousin German of the noble house of Teck</div>
<div class="i0">Will occupy the bedroom, and I'll have to crack thy neck!"</div>
<div class="i0">In yonder wing, and up the stairs as high as thou canst go,</div>
<div class="i0">There is the bedroom, with a door, of casement rather low,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_8" id="Page_8">8</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">And if thou stay a night therein, thy sleep might wake for shock,</div>
<div class="i0">Of scratching on the door, and keyhole cry, to wind your clock,</div>
<div class="i0">And then the shout of</div>
<div class="i10">"Caitiff knave!"</div>
<div class="i12">And if thou'rt bold and dare,</div>
<div class="i0">To peer out on that lobby then, he crocks me down the stair!</div>
<div class="i0">And leaves thee shivering in thy shirt, with fright and besomed hair!</div>
<div class="i0">I've heard the County Council, for the City weal is rife,</div>
<div class="i0">I'd hold it as a favor, if thou'ds't intimate that life</div>
<div class="i0">Is perilled on that lobby, and suggest in thy report,</div>
<div class="i0">That lifts would be more suitable, than stairs in Hampton Court.</div>
</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo020a.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="221" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Then with a comprehensive wail of anguish at his fate,</div>
<div class="i0">He gradually vanished thro' the grating of a gate,</div>
<div class="i0">And left me sorely puzzled, in a sad reflective state,</div>
<div class="i0">Then up a creeping tree, and spout, with stern resolve of hate</div>
<div class="i0">Compressed within my breast for Bouncer's evil ghost I clomb,</div>
<div class="i6">And slipping thro' the window frame with feline caution dumb,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_9" id="Page_9">9</SPAN>
</span><div class="i0">I slid behind a folding screen, and with a craning neck,</div>
<div class="i0">I listened for the snoring of the Colonel Van der Teck,</div>
<div class="i8">But not a soul had come that night into the room to rest,</div>
<div class="i8">There was no cousin German, and the bed was yet unpressed;</div>
<div class="i0">A knavish and mendacious trick it was of Bouncer's Ghost,</div>
<div class="i0">To crack his butler's neck again, but with some beans and toast,</div>
<div class="i8">I picketed behind the door, on eager ear to catch,</div>
<div class="i8">The slightest human murmur, thro' the keyhole of the latch,</div>
<div class="i0">At last it came! the midnight yet, was booming from a clock,</div>
<div class="i0">When lo! a scratching on the door, and half-way thro' the lock,</div>
<div class="i0">I heard the question, and with shout, I gave the ghosts a shock,</div>
<div class="i0">By springing to the lobby, like a chip of blasting rock!</div>
<div class="i0">And bounded twixt the spectres, with the rage of fighting cock,</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img21a.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="251" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Then facing Colonel Bouncer's Ghost, "Thou caitiff spook" I cried,</div>
<div class="i0">"Was it for this, that Shakespeare wrote, and Colonel Hampden died?</div>
<div class="i2">For this! that Cromwell lopped a royal head as traitor knave?</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</SPAN></span>
<div class="i2">For this! that all his cuirassiers were sworn to pray and shave?</div>
<div class="i0">Was it for this we lost a world! when George the Third was king?</div>
<div class="i0">For this! that laureates have lived of royal deeds to sing?</div>
<div class="i2">For this! the printing press was made, torpedoes, dynamite?</div>
<div class="i2">The iron ships, and bullet proof cuirass to scape the fight?</div>
<div class="i0">Was it for this! we've wove around the world a social net</div>
<div class="i0">Of speaking steel, that thou should'st perpetrate thy murder yet?</div>
<div class="i2">Out! out on thee! as traitor of thine oath unto the crown!</div>
<div class="i2">By gripping of thy butler, by his breech to jock him down,</div>
<div class="i0">Was it for this! that justice wrung thy neck on Tyburn tree,</div>
<div class="i0">To expiate the direful debt to justice due by thee?</div>
<div class="i2">For this! did Lord Macaulay write "The Lays of Antient Rome?"</div>
<div class="i2">For this! did Government send out to bring us Jabez home?</div>
<div class="i0">Have we been privileged to pay our swollen rates and tax?</div>
<div class="i0">And legislative rights imposed upon the noble's backs?</div>
<div class="i2">For this! was England parcelled out amongst the Norman few,</div>
<div class="i2">That thou should'st haunt in Hampton Court thy noisome work to do?</div>
<div class="i0">For this! is London soaring up, to Babel flights of flats</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">As cross between a poorhouse, and a prison?—are top hats</div>
<div class="i0">Still worn by busmen, beadles, undertakers, men of prayer!</div>
<div class="i0">That thou should'st cause the lieges to irradiate their hair,</div>
<div class="i0">With horror at thy felon work? paugh! out upon thee! there!</div>
<div class="i0">Thou misbegotten sprite! was it for this! we fought and flew,</div>
<div class="i0">On many a bloody battle field, right on to Peterloo?</div>
<div class="i2">Thou gall embittered martinet! What boots it if thou crack</div>
<div class="i2">Thy butler's neck? Unto that lock, he'll still be harking back,</div>
<div class="i0">And grow envigorated, by thy ghastly midnight work,</div>
<div class="i0">Like shooting of the chutes, or breezing down the switchback jerk!</div>
<div class="i2">"Psha! that unto thee!" and I snapped my finger at him "bosh!</div>
<div class="i2">Go, give thy vengeful spirit to contrition, for the wash,</div>
<div class="i0">And with the soap of keen remorse, erase the stain of blood,</div>
<div class="i0">From out thy soul, and straight atone, with deeds of useful good,</div>
<div class="i2">Go, croak behind the Marble Arch, or take a flag and stand</div>
<div class="i2">In Grosvenor Square, as captain of a hallelujah band,</div>
<div class="i0">Do anything, but mockery of murder, in the dark,</div>
<div class="i0">Ay even spout in windy speech, from wagons in the park,</div>
<div class="i2">Thou thing of misty cobwebine! thou woman frighter go!</div>
<div class="i0">And never more be seen again, to make thyself a show.</div>
<div class="i0">For children's fears, or if thou would'st a manly vengeance dare,</div>
<div class="i0">Pick up this fourteen stone of mine, and jock me down the stair</div>
<div class="i0">Thou idiot spook, thou ill-conditioned cloud concocted sprite</div>
<div class="i0">With the immortal bard I cry, Avaunt! and quit my sight!"</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">So fiercely did I thus denounce, his evil midnight trick,</div>
<div class="i0">The vigour of the vengeful scowl upon his brow grew sick</div>
<div class="i0">With quail of deep abasement, to behold a mortal's blood</div>
<div class="i0">On fire, to beard a felon spook, and ghosts were understood,</div>
<div class="i0">A transposition of remorse, upon his features came,</div>
<div class="i0">Until he shook before me, in an abject wreck of shame,</div>
<div class="i2">And cried with tones of keen reproach,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i12">"Adzooks! Alack! Ah me!</div>
<div class="i0">Oddsbodikins, well well! heigho! that I should die to see,</div>
<div class="i0">My ghost derided, with contempt of scoffing stock from thee!</div>
<div class="i2">But of thy clacking caustic tongue, I prithee give no more,</div>
<div class="i2">I'll take my passage by a breeze, to-night for Singapore,</div>
<div class="i0">Or anywhere the wind may blow, Japan! or Timbuctoo!</div>
<div class="i0">To rid me of thy clapper jaw, a flout on thee! Adieu!"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i2">He then evaporated, and with some pride embued,</div>
<div class="i2">I turned, for an expression of the butler's gratitude,</div>
<div class="i0">But he was gone! and from his place, with india rubber shoe,</div>
<div class="i0">A lamp was flashed upon my face, by number 90, Q,</div>
<div class="i2">They're never where they're wanted, and that blue, belted elf,</div>
<div class="i2">Did hail me up for trespass, and for shouting to myself!</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo024a.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="54" alt="decoration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="Ye_Filial_Sacrafice" id="Ye_Filial_Sacrafice">YE FILIAL SACRAFICE</SPAN></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo025a.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="548" alt="Ye filial Sarafice" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">H</div>E was ye wrothful widowere,</div>
<div class="i8">Unto his child spak he,</div>
<div class="i0">"Thou art not wise in this my son,</div>
<div class="i8">To court with Susan Lee,</div>
<div class="i0">A Mayde, ye least that's prattled of,</div>
<div class="i8">Ye safer for her fame,</div>
<div class="i0">Bethink thee, thou art Jabez Gray,</div>
<div class="i8">Respect thy Sire, his name!</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo026aa.jpg" width-obs="50" height-obs="45" alt="decoration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">"Ye reputation of ye Mayde,</div>
<div class="i8">Is dewdrop to ye root</div>
<div class="i0">Of wedded life, that canks ye blight,</div>
<div class="i8">Or ripes ye wholesome fruit,</div>
<div class="i0">Then part thee boy, from Susan Lee,</div>
<div class="i8">Her ways and lightsome game,</div>
<div class="i0">As Jabez Gray, behave thee well,</div>
<div class="i8">Respect thy Sire, his name!"</div>
</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo026ba.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="361" alt="Willow Oh and Wallow!" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Ah! well a day, for Jabez Gray,</div>
<div class="i8">O wallow was his woe,</div>
<div class="i0">It stung his heart with pain and rue,</div>
<div class="i8">That Mayden Lee should go,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Alack! Ah! me, that such should be,</div>
<div class="i8">But compensation came,</div>
<div class="i0">For he was true, as Jabez Gray,</div>
<div class="i8">Unto his Sire, his name.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">He gave unto ye Mayde, ye sore,</div>
<div class="i8">And sorry last farewell,</div>
<div class="i0">Ye pang unto his crinkled heart,</div>
<div class="i8">Was gall of woe to tell!</div>
<div class="i0">But from his conscience, filial faith,</div>
<div class="i8">With healing balsam came</div>
<div class="i0">His heart unto, for he was true,</div>
<div class="i8">Unto his Sire, his name.</div>
</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo027.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="402" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">O then 'twas his, 'twas Jabez Gray's</div>
<div class="i8">Reward and recompense,</div>
<div class="i0">To hear his Sire bespeake ye Mayde,</div>
<div class="i0">In fond and future tense,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He pry'd it in ye dark of night,</div>
<div class="i8">Beyond ye garden gate,</div>
<div class="i0">"I'll wed thee Sue, myself, to save</div>
<div class="i8">Thy name from evil prate."</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo028a.jpg" width-obs="50" height-obs="28" alt="decoration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">He heard ye Sire bespeak ye Mayde,</div>
<div class="i8">In tender guise, ye same,</div>
<div class="i0">As he did plead, before ye split,</div>
<div class="i8">To save ye Sire, his name.</div>
<div class="i0">He heard ye Parent, tell to Sue,</div>
<div class="i8">Ye lack of manly sense,</div>
<div class="i0">Of him, ye son, and with ye kiss,</div>
<div class="i8">He spake in future tense.</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo028b.jpg" width-obs="50" height-obs="41" alt="decoration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Ye little month did pass, and then,</div>
<div class="i8">Ye Parent wed ye Mayde,</div>
<div class="i0">And this, ye counsel to ye son,</div>
<div class="i8">In confidence he say'd,</div>
<div class="i0">"Ye Spinster Sue is now ye Wife,</div>
<div class="i8">Of fair and goodly fame,</div>
<div class="i0">Be duteous to her, as ye son</div>
<div class="i8">Respect thy Sire, his name!"</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo028c.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="304" alt="illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="MADAM_STIFFINS" id="MADAM_STIFFINS">MADAM STIFFIN'S GHOST</SPAN></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo029.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="488" alt="Madame Stiffins ghost" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
<span class="hide">IN</span>
BURTON Crescent, on the semi-circle apex there,</div>
<div class="i0">I lodged some little period up a six flight four foot stair,</div>
<div class="i0">It came about by freak of chance, 'twas in a cul-de-sac,</div>
<div class="i2">I found myself one morning, and compelled to tramp it back,</div>
<div class="i0">Whilst blessing gates of London town that bar the traffic yet,</div>
<div class="i0">I saw a window label, lettered, "lodgings to be let,"</div>
<div class="i2">A gloomy habitation 'twas, to give the nerves the creep!</div>
<div class="i2">But possibly a comfortable roosting place to sleep,</div>
<div class="i0">Of knockers on its oaken door, it bore a double stock,</div>
<div class="i0">I took those knockers, and I struck duet of double knock,</div>
<div class="i2">And just as I was rounding off my rallantando din,</div>
<div class="i2">The door was gently opened and a lady cried "Come in!"</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_18" id="Page_18">18</SPAN></span><div class="i0">I must confess, I fluttered with a flick of some surprise,</div>
<div class="i0">To see a lady so petite, and with such piercing eyes,</div>
<div class="i2">An artificial bloom was on her cheek, and nose, and neck,</div>
<div class="i2">Her gown was of a quaint brocade in antique floral check.</div>
<div class="i0">By transmutating hand of time, and his assistant care,</div>
<div class="i0">The golden sheen to silver light was paling thro' her hair,</div>
<div class="i2">And from the dentistry of art, that crowned her rippled chin,</div>
<div class="i2">She greeted me with pearly smile, the moment I stepped in.</div>
<div class="i0">I noted on her fingers small, some antique diamond rings,</div>
<div class="i0">And in her slippers russet brown, she tripped as 'twere on springs,</div>
<div class="i2">A dainty wrap, completed her little quaintly self,</div>
<div class="i2">She seemed a living Watteau, that stepped from off a shelf.</div>
<div class="i0">She seemed a living Watteau, from out a canvas sprung,</div>
<div class="i0">She wasn't—no, she wasn't—well you could not call her young.</div>
<div class="i2">She greeted me upsmiling, with business kindled fire,</div>
<div class="i2">And volunteered the question,</div>
<div class="i12">"What rooms do you require?"</div>
<div class="i0">It wasn't my intention, to move upon that day,</div>
<div class="i0">My humor was to dawdle, in idle sort of way,</div>
<div class="i2">So left it to her option, if twenty rooms or one,</div>
<div class="i2">In earth upon the basement, or garret near the sun.</div>
<div class="i0">She showed her approbation of my eccentric style,</div>
<div class="i0">And greeted me politely, with confidential smile,</div>
<div class="i2">"I have a room, the lodger is yet remaining there,</div>
<div class="i2">But leaving soon—I'll show it, if you will step the stair.—</div>
<div class="i0">She mounted up before me, her little cloak, like wings,</div>
<div class="i0">Did supplement her flexor, and her extensor springs,</div>
<div class="i2">She paused upon each lobby, to note the pleasing scene,</div>
<div class="i2">Of leaves amongst the chimneys, that lent a tint of green.</div>
<div class="i0">The sanitary question, she settled with some pains,</div>
<div class="i0">Explained, the County Council had just been down the drains,</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img031.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="233" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</SPAN></span>
<div class="i2">And thus discussing features, and questions to be met,</div>
<div class="i2">We landed on the landing of lodging to be let.</div>
<div class="i0">Upon the door with knuckle she struck a low rum-tin,</div>
<div class="i0">And tardily was answered by husky voice "Come in."</div>
<div class="i2">To purpose of her visit, he gave a mild assent,</div>
<div class="i2">Which somewhat indicated a debt of backward rent.</div>
<div class="i0">We entered the apartment, and gaunt, and wan, and scared!</div>
<div class="i0">From tangle of the blankets, blear-eyed, and towsel-haired,</div>
<div class="i2">A moment rose the lodger, then underneath the clothes,</div>
<div class="i2">He snapped himself like oyster, and only left his nose.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I took a swift synopsis, again we stepped the stair,</div>
<div class="i0">She bowed me to her parlour, and all around me there,</div>
<div class="i2">Were virtue objects, suited for curioso sale,</div>
<div class="i2">Art of the reign of Louis, and good old Chippendale,</div>
<div class="i0">Cameo ware of Wedgewood, and Worcester bric-a-brac,</div>
<div class="i0">Miniatures of beauties, and oriental lac,</div>
<div class="i2">A cabinet and tables, in marquetry of buhl,</div>
<div class="i2">And feminine arrangements, of bombazine and tulle.</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">Old mezzotint engravings of Regent, buck and lord,</div>
<div class="i0">Between the window curtains, an agèd harpsichord.—</div>
<div class="i0">The instrument she fingered, and sang an olden rune,</div>
<div class="i0">She sang with taste, but slightly, the strings were out of tune,</div>
<div class="i2">She warbled of the Regent, of Sheridan and Burke,</div>
<div class="i2">Buck Nash, and of Beau Brummel, and of the fatal work,</div>
<div class="i0">Enacted in a duel, then struck a broken string,</div>
<div class="i0">And with a sigh she faltered, and then she ceased to sing.</div>
<div class="i0">I told her, composition of song, was in my line,</div>
<div class="i0">Then, with a look intended as tender and divine,</div>
<div class="i2">And mode of days of Brummel, in manner and in style,</div>
<div class="i2">She lauded up the bedroom with captivating smile,</div>
<div class="i0">Electro-biologic, magnetic in her glance,</div>
<div class="i0">She fixed me like a medium, as tenant in advance!</div>
</div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I entered occupation, as soon as I could get,</div>
<div class="i0">And everything in order, was for my comfort set,</div>
<div class="i2">The room was daily garnished, and swept, my bed was made,</div>
<div class="i2">In this was comprehended the lot for which I paid,</div>
<div class="i2">My daily mastication, in public grill was frayed,</div>
<div class="i0">Monotonous, and easy, with quiet self-content,</div>
<div class="i0">I went and came in silence, in silence came and went,</div>
<div class="i2">Was no domestic welcome when I came in, not one!</div>
<div class="i2">And in the morning ditto, till I was up and gone.</div>
<div class="i0">No sound of brush or bucket! no jar of door, or delph!</div>
<div class="i0">No foot upon the stairs, except the pair I have myself!</div>
<div class="i2">No smutty wench to greet me with cloud of dusty mat!</div>
<div class="i2">No snarl of vicious lap dog, or hiss of humping cat!</div>
<div class="i2">No slavey whiting up the steps, did ever strike my sight!</div>
<div class="i2">Yet everything was fixed for me, when I came home at night!</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="poem">
<ANTIMG src="images/illo033.jpg" width-obs="494" height-obs="245" alt="illustration" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo033a.jpg" width-obs="249" height-obs="357" alt="illustration" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo033b.jpg" width-obs="487" height-obs="142" alt="illustration" class="splitl" />
<div class="margintop">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">But often on my pillow, when darkness was my ward,</div>
<div class="i0">I heard the muffled numbers of distant harpsichord!</div>
<div class="i0">I heard a plaintive ballad, to measured cadence set,</div>
<div class="i0">Of long ago, that sounded for lordly minuet!</div>
<div class="i0">In wierdly notes it fluttered and lingered on the wing,</div>
<div class="i0">With wailing for the duel! the sigh! and broken string!</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">But once when I was taking a smoking circumflex,</div>
<div class="i0">Around the Burton Crescent, and just at its apex,</div>
<div class="i2">I heard a voice behind me, that put me on some toast,</div>
<div class="i2">"Look! there's the man, that's living with Madame Stiffin's Ghost!"</div>
<div class="i0">I turned, and in the lamplight, distinctly I could see,</div>
<div class="i0">A woman's dexter finger, was indicating me!</div>
<div class="i2">"He's living as a lodger, above the second floor</div>
<div class="i2">Of yonder house, that's haunted, with double-knockered door,</div>
<div class="i0">Look! isn't he a cough-drop? it's only such a scare,</div>
<div class="i0">Would live in such a lodging, with Madam Stiffin there!"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I never felt so worried at anything before!</div>
<div class="i0">Could scarcely find the keyhole of double-knockered door,</div>
<div class="i2">And up the stairs I tottered, as in a walking trance,</div>
<div class="i2">Next morning, she'd be coming for payment in advance,</div>
<div class="i0">Next morning, at the striking of twelve upon the clock,</div>
<div class="i0">I started from my slumber, it was her double knock!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I jumped up at the summons, and leaping out of bed,</div>
<div class="i0">I answered, and she entered, and unto her I said,</div>
<div class="i0">"I'm here thro' false pretences; <em>I understand you're dead</em>!"</div>
</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo034.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="201" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">A peal of mocking laughter, the little Watteau shook,</div>
<div class="i0">And with her arms akimbo, an attitude she struck,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</SPAN></span><div class="i0">She made an accusation of drink, and with a glance</div>
<div class="i0">Of keen reproach, demanded, her payment in advance!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I had already promised myself, that none should boast,</div>
<div class="i0">Of knowing me in future, as tenant of a ghost,</div>
<div class="i2">So got my cash, pretending to settle there, and then,</div>
<div class="i2">And just as she was lifting my eagle pointed pen,</div>
<div class="i0">Said I "Perhaps you'll give me receipt for also this?"</div>
<div class="i0">With that I would have tested her presence with a kiss!</div>
<div class="i2">I think my arm went thro' her, of that I can't be sure,</div>
<div class="i2">But with the table circuit, she took the bedroom door,</div>
<div class="i0">I took it quite as quick, and abreviated sight,</div>
<div class="i0">I caught of her next landing, and on her hasty flight,</div>
<div class="i2">From lobby down to lobby I chased her like a hare,</div>
<div class="i2">I tracked her to the kitchen, but lo! she wasn't there!</div>
<div class="i0">I flew into the area, back up the stairs I flew,</div>
<div class="i0">In drawing-room and parlour, in every bedroom too,</div>
<div class="i2">To overtake and seize her, with skidding foot I sped,</div>
<div class="i2">And under every sofa, and under every bed,</div>
<div class="i0">I searched,—it was a marvel!—exploited every flue,</div>
<div class="i0">Unlocked a couple of wardrobes and looked them thro' and thro',</div>
<div class="i0">Until in all its horror, the grim conviction grew,</div>
<div class="i2">I had in fact been lodging unconscious with a spook!</div>
<div class="i2">I rushed to get my waistcoat, pants, traps, and took my hook!</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo035.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="93" alt="decoration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="Sonnet" id="Sonnet">SONNET ON PARTING</SPAN></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo036a.jpg" width-obs="600" height-obs="249" alt="Sonnet on Parting" /></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo036b.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="295" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="center"><div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">H</div>E travelled by the mail,</div>
<div class="i2">On incognito scale,</div>
<div class="i4">With cautious care, and reck,</div>
<div class="i10">Of varied tricks of art.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">For he had made a bag,</div>
<div class="i0">Of most extensive swag,</div>
<div class="i4">From bank where he was sec.,</div>
<div class="i10">And didn't want to part.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
But story of his trick,</div>
<div class="i0">By telegraphic tick,</div>
<div class="i4">Brought him to book, and check,</div>
<div class="i10">It gave him quite a start,</div>
<div class="i4">He had it by a neck,</div>
<div class="i6">'Twas rough to have to part!</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="His_Bouquet" id="His_Bouquet">HIS BOUQUET</SPAN></h2>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo037a.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="413" alt="illustration" class="splitr" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo037b.jpg" width-obs="187" height-obs="372" alt="illustration" class="splitr" /></p>
<blockquote>
<p class="prose">
<ANTIMG src="images/img037.jpg" width-obs="50" height-obs="69" alt="IT" />
HAS been proved by more
than one observant social
Philosopher, that the impressionable star
gazer of the Music Halls is one who often
scatters rose leaves, and harvests thorns;
let us hear what Muffkin Moonhead has to
sing, concerning his own experience.</p>
</blockquote>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">I</div>T cost a florin square,</div>
<div class="i0">Her photo I declare,</div>
<div class="i10">To wear,</div>
<div class="i10">With care</div>
<div class="i8">Of uttermost esteem,</div>
<div class="i0">In pocket of my breast,</div>
<div class="i0">That picture lay at rest,</div>
<div class="i10">And blest,</div>
<div class="i10">With zest,</div>
<div class="i8">That fluttered thro' my dream;</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">
My dream of love, where she</div>
<div class="i0">Was posed, in extacy,</div>
<div class="i8">Of gay phantasmagoria,</div>
<div class="i0">Of beauty unto me.</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo038a.jpg" width-obs="50" height-obs="377" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Ten other bobs, I pay,</div>
<div class="i0">For hothouse plant bouquet,</div>
<div class="i10">When she,</div>
<div class="i10">On tree,</div>
<div class="i8">Of pantomimic treat</div>
<div class="i0">In semi-raiment stood,</div>
<div class="i0">As geni of the good,</div>
<div class="i10">I could,</div>
<div class="i10">And would,</div>
<div class="i8">Down cast them at her feet.</div>
<div class="i0">The feet of love where she</div>
<div class="i0">Was posed, in extacy,</div>
<div class="i8">Of bright phantasmagoria,</div>
<div class="i0">Of beauty unto me!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I took a numbered seat,</div>
<div class="i0">In stall select, and neat,</div>
<div class="i10">To treat</div>
<div class="i10">My sweet!</div>
<div class="i8">And when she did appear,</div>
<div class="i0">I flung the flow'rs I wis,</div>
<div class="i0">She took them, and with this,</div>
<div class="i10">O bliss</div>
<div class="i10">A kiss!</div>
<div class="i5">That thrilled me, while the cheer</div>
<div class="i0">Of gods applaudingly,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">Did greet with storm of glee,</div>
<div class="i8">The loved phantasmagoria</div>
<div class="i0">Of beauty unto me!</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo039a.jpg" width-obs="50" height-obs="380" alt="illlustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
Sweet osculating scene</div>
<div class="i0">Of bouquet, and my queen,</div>
<div class="i10">And smug</div>
<div class="i10">Chaste hug,</div>
<div class="i5">Of posies to her nose,</div>
<div class="i0">As poising on her toe,</div>
<div class="i0">And then subsiding low,</div>
<div class="i10">A glow</div>
<div class="i10">Flushed so,</div>
<div class="i5">On my cheek, like a rose,</div>
<div class="i0">The while she bowed the knee,</div>
<div class="i0">Then skipped away O.P.,</div>
<div class="i8">That lithe phantasmagoria,</div>
<div class="i0">Of beauty unto me!</div>
</div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I waited by the door,</div>
<div class="i0">Classic door! out they pour,</div>
<div class="i10">A score,</div>
<div class="i10">Or more,</div>
<div class="i5">Escorting her, I say!</div>
<div class="i0">And ha! may I be blest,</div>
<div class="i0">Upon each jerkin breast,</div>
<div class="i10">Confest,</div>
<div class="i10">Were drest,</div>
<div class="i0">The buds of my bouquet!</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">Said she to me "ta ta!</div>
<div class="i0">Go home to your mamma!"</div>
<div class="i8">It wrought the rude evanishment</div>
<div class="i0">Of love of her from me!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">The moral it is this,</div>
<div class="i0">Don't dally with such bliss,</div>
<div class="i10">A miss,</div>
<div class="i10">Is kiss</div>
<div class="i5">Unto thee from the play,</div>
<div class="i0">A kiss for gods, and stall,</div>
<div class="i0">The pit, and tier, on all</div>
<div class="i10">To fall</div>
<div class="i10">And small</div>
<div class="i8">The fig, for your bouquet,</div>
<div class="i0">When it has brought the balm,</div>
<div class="i0">Of the applauding palm,</div>
<div class="i10">She shares it with the supers, and</div>
<div class="i0">She gives the chill to thee!</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img040.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="274" alt="Illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="The_Girl_of_Castlebar" id="The_Girl_of_Castlebar">THE GIRL OF CASTLEBAR</SPAN></h2>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo041.jpg" width-obs="497" height-obs="395" alt="The girl of castlebar" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo041a.jpg" width-obs="243" height-obs="174" alt="T" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="prose">
<p class="begin"><span class="hide">T</span>
HE sun was setting in a gloam of
purple and gold, as I basked in the
grass on the Staball hill one
autumn evening, the stirring tuck
of the tattoo rolled up the slope
from the adjacent barracks; it
affected me like a tonic, my blood
circulated quicker, the spirit of an
amateur ghostly seer took possession
of me! I felt as one inspired.</p>
<p>A scene of early days of Anglo-foreign
strife rose before me like a wraith of second sight. The tramp of
sea-bound red coats, fifes and drums, the woe-mongering cries of parting
wives. I saw two lovers on the Staball hill, heard their vows.</p>
<p>A rhyming fever tingled to my fingers' ends, my only manuscript
medium to hand, the stump of a lead pencil, and blank margin of the
morning paper. Upon that virgin border I jotted the sketch of the
following founded on fact ballad. The reader will perceive in it a
beautiful inverse lesson of the mutual commotion of two loving hearts.</p>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">T</div>HE bugle horn was sounding through the streets of Castlebar,</div>
<div class="i0">And many a gallant soldier, was bound unto the war,</div>
<div class="i0">And one upon the Staball hill, his sweetheart by his side</div>
<div class="i0">Swore many a rounded warlike oath, that she should be his bride.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"O Maggie!" cried the Corporal, "There's war across the sea,</div>
<div class="i0">And when I'm parted from thee, I would you'd pray for me,</div>
<div class="i0">And I will tell you what you'll do, when I am far away,</div>
<div class="i0">You'll come up to the Staball, and kneel for me, and pray."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">And this to him she promised, and this to him she said,</div>
<div class="i0">"I'll still be ever true to thee, be thou alive, or dead!</div>
<div class="i0">I'll still be ever true to thee, and O if thou dost fall,</div>
<div class="i0">Thy soul at eve will find me here, upon the old Staball."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">And then he swore a clinker oath, of what a vengeful doom,</div>
<div class="i0">Would him befal, who dared to win her from him, then the bloom</div>
<div class="i0">Came to her cheek again, "O Jim I'll never love but you,"</div>
<div class="i0">"I'm blowed but I'm the same!" he cried, and then they tore in two!</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</SPAN></span></div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo042a.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="187" alt="Illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">She saw her soldier leaving, she heard the music sweet,</div>
<div class="i0">Of "The girl I left behind me" sounding sadly up the street,</div>
<div class="i0">She saw the shrieking engine, that bore him far away,</div>
<div class="i0">Then went back to the Staball, to weep for him and pray.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">And as the summer faded, and gloaming nights came round,</div>
<div class="i0">A maid anon was kneeling, upon that trysting ground,</div>
<div class="i0">And fearless of the winter, and of its falling snow,</div>
<div class="i0">That maiden sweet, and constant, unto her tryst would go.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Till on a certain evening, a stranger in the town,</div>
<div class="i0">Came sauntering up the Staball, and found her kneeling down,</div>
<div class="i0">He tipped her on the shoulder, and speaking soft, and low,</div>
<div class="i0">"O what on earth possesses you, to pray upon the snow."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">She told him all her story then, and why so kneeling there,</div>
<div class="i0">She told him of her sorrowed heart, the object of her prayer,</div>
<div class="i0">She told him of her soldier lad, so far across the sea,</div>
<div class="i0">"I'd like to be a soldier lad, with you to love!" said he.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Said he "You're very lonely: If you have need to pray,</div>
<div class="i0">I'll come agrah! and help you, with 'Amens' if I may,</div>
<div class="i0">It's very hard acushla! to pray alone each night,"</div>
<div class="i0">And the colleen shyly answered, "She thought perhaps he might."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">The tryst became more social for while the colleen prayed,</div>
<div class="i0">The stranger tooted "Amens" unto the kneeling maid,</div>
<div class="i0">Until at last he muttered "This pantomime must stop,</div>
<div class="i0">I'll buy the ring to-morrow, I've got a watch to pop!"</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img044.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="199" alt="Illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">At length the war was over, she heard the beaten drum,</div>
<div class="i0">And up again thro' Castlebar, the scarlet men did come,</div>
<div class="i0">And her heart grew cold within her, to think how wroth he'd be</div>
<div class="i0">To learn she had been faithless, while he was o'er the sea.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Then, pleading to her husband "O hide yerself!" she said,</div>
<div class="i0">"Aye even up the chimbledy, or undhernate the bed!</div>
<div class="i0">For if he ketches howld of you, I don't know what he'll do,</div>
<div class="i0">It's maybe let his gun go off, an' maybe kill the two!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I'll try an' coax the grannies, to brake it to him first,</div>
<div class="i0">For if he's towld it sudden by me, 'twill be the worst,</div>
<div class="i0">They'll have to put it softly, I cannot be his bride,</div>
<div class="i0">So while I'm gone to tell them, do you run off an' hide."</div>
</div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"O break it to him, Grannies, the shocking news," she said</div>
<div class="i0">"That I have wed another, and him I cannot wed!</div>
<div class="i0">O put it to him gently, for great will be his pain,</div>
<div class="i0">That we'll never more be meeting on the Staball hill again."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">They broke it to him softly, 'twas in a public bar,</div>
<div class="i0">A foaming pint before him, and on his brow a scar,</div>
<div class="i0">They broke it to him gently, and spoke it to him plain,</div>
<div class="i0">He needn't think to meet her, on the Staball hill again.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He swigged the pint before him, then heaved a bitter sigh,</div>
<div class="i0">"What? blow me, your a chaffin'!" "O divil a word o' lie!"</div>
<div class="i0">Then first he took his shako, and tossed it to the roof,</div>
<div class="i0">Then to each nervous grannie, "Here take the bloomin' loof."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Come, wots yer shout for liquor? It's dooced well!" cried he,</div>
<div class="i0">"I'm buckled to a blackimoor, I met beyond the sea,</div>
<div class="i0">"You've taken a load from off of me! my mind is now at par,</div>
<div class="i0">She wouldn't have left a ribbon on the Girl of Castlebar!"</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img045.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="163" alt="Illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</SPAN></span></p>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_GERMAN_BAND" id="THE_GERMAN_BAND">THE GERMAN BAND</SPAN></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo046.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="201" alt="The German Band" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">V</div>E are ze vhandering Shermans,</div>
<div class="i4">Ve cooms vrom o'er ze sea,</div>
<div class="i0">Ve plays ze lovely music,</div>
<div class="i4">Of all ze great countree,</div>
<div class="i0">Ve all of us have romance,</div>
<div class="i4">Of life, so bigs to say,</div>
<div class="i0">I'll sing a verse for each man,</div>
<div class="i4">Ze vile ze band vill play.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Vings zerring zanzeraza,</div>
<div class="i4">Ve cooms from o'er ze sea,</div>
<div class="i0">Ve plays ze lovely music,</div>
<div class="i4">Of all ze great countree.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Zare's Herr Von Zingerpofel,</div>
<div class="i4">No prouder man vos he,</div>
<div class="i0">Zan ven he loved ze Fraulien</div>
<div class="i4">Afar in Shermanie.</div>
<div class="i0">But ven he found ze noders</div>
<div class="i4">Golds ring upon her hand,</div>
<div class="i0">He played on ze thriangles,</div>
<div class="i4">Und left ze Sherman land!</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</SPAN></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Zare's Blunder Bogle Fogen,</div>
<div class="i4">Vot bangs on ze big dhrum,</div>
<div class="i0">Thought all ze poor, und rich man,</div>
<div class="i4">Should own ze even sum;</div>
<div class="i0">Ze government vos differed,</div>
<div class="i4">But on ze prison valks,</div>
<div class="i0">He doubled up ze gaoler,</div>
<div class="i4">Und zen, he valked ze chalks!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Zare's Dreker Mandertoofel,</div>
<div class="i4">Ze opheclide he plays,</div>
<div class="i0">He'll never more see nodings,</div>
<div class="i4">Of all his happiest days;</div>
<div class="i0">He only blows ze music,</div>
<div class="i4">Because it brings ze cheer,</div>
<div class="i0">Of great big pipes of shmokin',</div>
<div class="i4">Und shugs of Lager Beer!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Zare's him vot puffs ze oboe,</div>
<div class="i4">In oder days vos he,</div>
<div class="i0">Of Heidelberg, a student</div>
<div class="i4">Ze pride of Shermanie,</div>
<div class="i0">But he did love der Lager,</div>
<div class="i4">Zoo mooch of Docter-Vien,</div>
<div class="i0">He killed ze man in duel!</div>
<div class="i4">Und he vos no more seen.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Zare's Mungen Val Tarara,</div>
<div class="i4">A Sherman born in Cork,</div>
<div class="i0">Und he vos von too many,</div>
<div class="i4">Because he vould not vork,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</SPAN></span><div class="i0">He left his home von mornings,</div>
<div class="i4">Mit all his back hair curled,</div>
<div class="i0">He jangs upon ze cymbals,</div>
<div class="i4">To bring him round ze vorld.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Now you vill be imagine,</div>
<div class="i4">Zat I must oondherstand,</div>
<div class="i0">Zat I vill tell ze story</div>
<div class="i4">Of leader of ze band,</div>
<div class="i0">But if I must, I'll speaks it,</div>
<div class="i4">All in ze simple rune,</div>
<div class="i0">So I vill stop ze music,</div>
<div class="i4">Ze tale is out of tune!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">'Twas I vos vonce a Uhlan, who rode mit all ze band,</div>
<div class="i0">Zat von Alsace, und Lorraine, from Vrance vor Vaterland,</div>
<div class="i0">Ven in ze pits at Gravelotte, I lay von night to die,</div>
<div class="i0">I voke! for I vos faintings to hear ze voman sigh!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Und shust vere I vas vounded, I saw ze voman's zere,</div>
<div class="i0">Vos bound mine arm from bleeding, mit her own golden hair!</div>
<div class="i0">She nursed me through ze danger, und ven zere's peace again,</div>
<div class="i0">I svore zat I vould ved her, ze Fraulein of Lorraine.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I kissed my love von mornings, her vite face on my heart,</div>
<div class="i0">Mit sobs her eyes vos veeping, ze time vos come to part.</div>
<div class="i0">Ze Var vas not yet ended, I heard ze thrompet blow,</div>
<div class="i0">Zat I must rise, und answer, und leave ze sveetheart so!</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</SPAN></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Mine blood run cold zat mornings, und I felt somedings here,</div>
<div class="i0">Vos in my throat come choking, und on my cheek ze tear,</div>
<div class="i0">Vor O I vould not lose her, ze glory on me now,</div>
<div class="i0">Zat I vos hope to bless me, mit Cosette vor mine Frau.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I marched avay to Paris, vere all around vos dire,</div>
<div class="i0">Mit shmoke, und blood, und thunder, und fret, und woe und fire!</div>
<div class="i0">Und ven ze siege vos over, mit thrumpet und mit dhrum,</div>
<div class="i0">Vonce more again thro' Lorraine, ze Sherman bands did come.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I vent to find ze sveetheart, but grass vos on ze slain,</div>
<div class="i0">Ze cruel Var had murdered ze Fraulein of Lorraine!—</div>
<div class="i0">Shust vere mine heart is beating, I keep ze treasure zare,</div>
<div class="i0">Mit mine own blood upon it, von braid of golden hair,</div>
<div class="i0">Und all dried up und vithered, und gone to dust again,</div>
<div class="i0">Von flower zat vonce vos jewelled ze grave zats in Lorraine.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Ah vot is deed of glory, ven blood is on ze vings</div>
<div class="i0">Of love, zat makes ze heaven on earth, und vot are kings?</div>
<div class="i0">Auch! I vill have no patience. Strike up ze Band again,</div>
<div class="i0">Or I grow mad mit dhreamings, vot happened in Lorraine!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Vings zerring zanzaraza, ve cooms from o'er ze sea,</div>
<div class="i0">Ve plays ze lovely music, of all ze great countree.</div>
<div class="i0">Ve all of us have romance of life so bigs to say,</div>
<div class="i0">Vings zerring zanzaraza, ze vile ze band vill play.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</SPAN></span></p>
<h2><SPAN name="OUT_OF_PLUMB" id="OUT_OF_PLUMB">OUT OF PLUMB.</SPAN></h2>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo050.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="242" alt="illustration" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo050a.jpg" width-obs="149" height-obs="380" alt="illustration" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo050b.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="90" alt="illustration" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="margintop">
<p>LAID out pounds, and pounds,<br/>
In entertainment rounds,<br/>
<span class="i2">And worked a score of credit pretty thick,</span><br/>
For I heard she had a plumb,<br/>
So invited her to come,<br/>
<span class="i2">To the altar at shortest notice quick,</span><br/>
When I asked her for my plumb,<br/>
She was all but deaf and dumb,<br/>
<span class="i2">I found that I was married thro' a trick,</span><br/>
To have lifted off the shelf,<br/>
A maiden without pelf,<br/>
<span class="i2">Was unbusiness-like, I felt it was a stick,</span><br/>
<span class="i2">Of the candle, all I had was but the wick,</span><br/>
<span class="i2">A moody retrospection, makes me sick!</span></p>
</div>
<hr class="full" />
<h2><SPAN name="A_Ward_in_the_Chancerie"></SPAN>A WARD IN THE CHANCERIE</h2>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo051.jpg" width-obs="499" height-obs="328" alt="illustration" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo051b.jpg" width-obs="135" height-obs="58" alt="illustration" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="margintop2">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
<span class="hide">He</span>
WAS a cabman grey I feck,</div>
<div class="i2">All weird and wry to see;</div>
<div class="i0">His face was ribbed like the turtle's neck,</div>
<div class="i2">His nose like the strawberrie.</div>
<div class="i0">If you think he was old, to you I say,</div>
<div class="i2">Your thought obscures the truth—</div>
<div class="i0">Despite the years that had passed away,</div>
<div class="i2">He was still in his second youth.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Ha! ha!" quoth he, "how fair she looks,"</div>
<div class="i2">One morn, as he did see,</div>
<div class="i0">A maiden sweet with her school-books,</div>
<div class="i2">A ward in the Chancerie.</div>
<div class="i0">"How fair she looks!" quoth he, and put</div>
<div class="i2">A load in his old black clay,</div>
<div class="i0">And he didn't care if he hadn't a fare,</div>
<div class="i2">The whole of the live-long day.</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo052.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="161" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</SPAN></span>
<div class="i4">
That night he looketh into the glass,</div>
<div class="i4">With his nose like a strawberrie,</div>
<div class="i4">"I know they'll say I'm a bloomin' goose</div>
<div class="i0">But fate is fate you see."</div>
<div class="i4">And he looketh into the glass once more,</div>
<div class="i4">Where yet was another drain.</div>
<div class="i0">Quoth he, "I've wedded three before,"</div>
<div class="i0">"The fourth I'll wed again."</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Next day he was out in the open street,</div>
<div class="i2">And standing upon the stand,</div>
<div class="i0">He heard the trip of her coming feet,</div>
<div class="i2">'Twas sweet as a German band.</div>
<div class="i0">And forth he went and accosted her,</div>
<div class="i2">He could not brook delay,</div>
<div class="i0">"Hey up, look here, little gurl," said he,</div>
<div class="i2">"I saw you yesterday."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"I saw you yesterday. My 'eart</div>
<div class="i2">Went out across your feet,</div>
<div class="i0">And from your beauty came a dart</div>
<div class="i2">That fixed me all complete;</div>
<div class="i0">And all last night I dreamed a dream,</div>
<div class="i2">To my bedside you came—</div>
<div class="i0">You'll marvel at these words of him</div>
<div class="i2">Who does not know your name.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">"I saw you yesterday. You smile."</div>
<div class="i2">His eyes, like burning beads,</div>
<div class="i0">Took root in her inmost soul the while,</div>
<div class="i2">As deep as the ditch-grown weeds.</div>
<div class="i0">"You smile. Ha, ha! to smile and laugh</div>
<div class="i2">Is better than aye to frown</div>
<div class="i0">It's fitter to whiffle away the chaff</div>
<div class="i2">That covers a golden crown.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"It's better to whittle away the cheat</div>
<div class="i2">Of mankind if you can."</div>
<div class="i0">And he cracked his whip. "It's a fair deceit</div>
<div class="i2">And I am a curious man—</div>
<div class="i0">Yes I am a curious man, my badge</div>
<div class="i2">Is seventeen seventy-seven,</div>
<div class="i0">But wot is a badge? It's a very small thing</div>
<div class="i2">To the matches wot's made in Heaven!"</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo053.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="235" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
"How sweet he speaks!" the maiden thought</div>
<div class="i0">"He's a lord in a rough disguise,</div>
<div class="i0">As a cabman old he's coming to woo</div>
<div class="i0">And give me a grand surprise;</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</SPAN></span><div class="i0">He seeks to hide himself in a mask,</div>
<div class="i2">With a nose like a strawberrie,</div>
<div class="i0">But I've read too many of three vol. novs.,</div>
<div class="i2">He couldn't disguise from me.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"The Lord of Burleigh while incog.</div>
<div class="i2">Did wed an humble bride,</div>
<div class="i0">And legend lore recounteth more</div>
<div class="i2">Of love like his beside.</div>
<div class="i0">I've heard the ballad of Huntingtower,</div>
<div class="i2">And some I forget by name,</div>
<div class="i0">And when he's got rid of his strawberrie nose</div>
<div class="i2">He'll maybe be one of the same!"</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo054.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="194" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">And she fondly looked on him, I ween,</div>
<div class="i2">Sweet as the hawthorn spray,</div>
<div class="i0">When all in bloom of white and green,</div>
<div class="i2">It decks the month of May.</div>
<div class="i0">"Oh, dearest Cabman," spoke she then,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</SPAN></span>
<div class="i2">"No brighter fate were mine</div>
<div class="i0">Than this: to be thine own laydee,</div>
<div class="i2">My life with thee to twine.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"But I am poor and lowly born,</div>
<div class="i2">And never a match for thee—</div>
<div class="i0">A girl a man like you would scorn,</div>
<div class="i2">A ward in the Chancerie,</div>
<div class="i0">With only a hundred thousand pounds,</div>
<div class="i2">It may be less or more;</div>
<div class="i0">But do not wreck a confiding heart,</div>
<div class="i2">It often was done before."</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo055.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="240" alt="Illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Wo! ho!" quoth he, and in his sleeve</div>
<div class="i2">He grinned, "It's a big mistake.</div>
<div class="i0">The Chancerie is only a blind,</div>
<div class="i2">But, yet, I am wide awake.</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</SPAN></span><div class="i0">If a hundred thousand pounds wor her's,</div>
<div class="i2">She wouldn't be makin' free;</div>
<div class="i0">I'd have to court her a little bit more,</div>
<div class="i2">Before she'd be courtin' me.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"I haven't the smallest doubt of this—</div>
<div class="i2">The truth you tell," he began;</div>
<div class="i0">"But I think that you misunderstand me miss,</div>
<div class="i2">I am not a marryin' man.</div>
<div class="i0">I only thought if you wanted a cab</div>
<div class="i2">That I wouldn't be high in my fare,"</div>
<div class="i0">And he shuffled the nose-bag round the jaw</div>
<div class="i2">Of his patient, hungry mare.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">She walked away, nor bade good day,</div>
<div class="i2">While he thought of the Probate Court.</div>
<div class="i0">"She's a girl, I twig, could give me a dig</div>
<div class="i2">Of a barrister's wig for sport.</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo056.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="165" alt="Illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
I have only escaped the courts of law,"</div>
<div class="i0">Quoth he, "by a single hair!"</div>
<div class="i0">As he finished the knot of his canvas bag</div>
<div class="i0">On the nose of his hungry mare.</div>
</div></div>
</div></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="The_Fairy_Queen" id="The_Fairy_Queen">THE FAIRY QUEEN</SPAN></h2>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo057.jpg" width-obs="492" height-obs="371" alt="The fairy Queen" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo057a.jpg" width-obs="262" height-obs="205" alt="M" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="prose begin">
<p>ANY an intelligent reader will
perceive that the following is a
pathetic plaint founded on fact.
A moral, conveyed in a polyglot sample of
weak passages from many a knowing man's
career.</p>
<p>In one noted instance, the writer while reciting
the ballad, closely escaped the chance of assassination,
at the hand of a member of the audience,
that he fancied it was a versification of his own
particular experience, made public, and brought
so circumstantially home to him, that he felt
the eyes of all were concentrated upon him as the
hero of the ballad. Happily he did not carry a
revolver, or it would most likely have exploded suddenly in the direction
of the platform. But mutual explanations and further enquiry elicited
the information that more than one man of that audience occupied the
same lamplit boat of retrospect misfortune.</p>
<p>Corney Keegan relates his adventure with the picturesque force, derived
from practical experience, and many an aching heart will go out to him
in sympathy. His story teaches a comprehensive, solemn, and beautiful
lesson.</p>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">M</div>E mother often spoke to me,</div>
<div class="i6">"Corney me boy," siz she,</div>
<div class="i0">"There's luck in store for you agra!</div>
<div class="i6">You've been so kind to me!</div>
<div class="i0">Down be the rath in Reilly's Park</div>
<div class="i6">They say that Larry Shawn</div>
<div class="i0">That's gone away across the say,</div>
<div class="i6">Once cotch a Leprechawn.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He grabbed him be the scruff so hard,</div>
<div class="i6">The little crather swore,</div>
<div class="i0">That if bowld Larry'd let him go,</div>
<div class="i6">He should be poor no more!</div>
<div class="i0">"Just look behind ye Larry dear,"</div>
<div class="i6">Screeched out the chokin' elf,</div>
<div class="i0">"There's hapes of goold in buckets there,</div>
<div class="i6">It's all for Larry's self!</div>
<div class="i0">If Larry lets the little man</div>
<div class="i6">Go free again, he'll be</div>
<div class="i0">No longer poor but rich an' great!"</div>
<div class="i6">So Larry let him free.</div>
<div class="i0">Some say he carried home the goold</div>
<div class="i6">An' hid it in the aves,</div>
<div class="i0">But some say when the elf was gone</div>
<div class="i6">'Twas turned to withered laves.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"If Larry cotch a Leprechawn,"</div>
<div class="i6">Me mother then 'ed cry,</div>
<div class="i0">"Why you may ketch a fairy queen,</div>
<div class="i6">Ma bouchal by an' by!"</div>
<div class="i0">Near Balligarry now she sleeps,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</SPAN></span>
<div class="i6">Where great O'Brien bled,</div>
<div class="i0">And often since I took a thought,</div>
<div class="i6">Of what me mother said.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">At last I came to Dublin town,</div>
<div class="i6">To thry an' sell some pigs,</div>
<div class="i0">And maybe then I didn't cut</div>
<div class="i6">A quare owld shine of rigs.</div>
<div class="i0">I sowld me pigs for forty pound,</div>
<div class="i6">For they wor clane an' fat,</div>
<div class="i0">An' thin we hadn't American mate,</div>
<div class="i6">So they wor chape at that!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Well now," sez I, "me pocket's full,</div>
<div class="i6">I'll not go home just yit,</div>
<div class="i0">I'll take a twist up thro' the town</div>
<div class="i6">An' thrate meself a bit,"</div>
<div class="i0">I mosey'd round to Sackville Street,</div>
<div class="i6">When starin' round me best,</div>
<div class="i0">I seen a darlin' colleen there,</div>
<div class="i6">Most beautifully dhressed.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">A posy in her leghorn hat,</div>
<div class="i6">An' round her neck, a ruff</div>
<div class="i0">Of black cock's feathers, jacket too,</div>
<div class="i6">Of raal expensive stuff,</div>
<div class="i0">A silver ferruled umberell'</div>
<div class="i6">In hand with yalla kid,</div>
<div class="i0">An' thro' a great big hairy muff</div>
<div class="i6">Her other hand was hid,</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="poem">
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo060a.jpg" width-obs="396" height-obs="105" alt="illustration" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo060b.jpg" width-obs="179" height-obs="406" alt="illustration" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo060c.jpg" width-obs="392" height-obs="114" alt="illustration" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="margintop3">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">O like a sweet come-all-ye, in</div>
<div class="i2">A waltzin' swing, she swep'</div>
<div class="i0">The toepath, with the music of</div>
<div class="i2">Her silken skirt, an' step,</div>
<div class="i0">To see her turn the corner, thro'</div>
<div class="i2">The lamplight comin' down,</div>
<div class="i0">You'd think she owned the freehowld of</div>
<div class="i2">That part of Dublin town!</div>
<div class="i0">You'd think she owned the sky above,</div>
<div class="i2">It's moon with all the stars,</div>
<div class="i0">The thraffic in the streets below,</div>
<div class="i2">Their thrams, an' carts, an' cars!</div>
<div class="i0">You'd think that she was landlady,</div>
<div class="i2">Of all that she could see,</div>
<div class="i0">An' faith regardin' of meself,</div>
<div class="i2">She made her own of me!</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</SPAN></span>
"O Corney is it you?" siz she,</div>
<div class="i6">An' up to me she came,</div>
<div class="i0">I took a start, to hear her there,</div>
<div class="i6">Pronouncin' out me name;</div>
<div class="i0">"O Corney, there ye are!" siz she</div>
<div class="i6">Wid raal familiar smile,</div>
<div class="i0">An' thin begar she took me arm,</div>
<div class="i6">Most coaxingly the while;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I fluttered like a butterfly,</div>
<div class="i6">That's born the first of May,</div>
<div class="i0">Wid pride, as if I had the right</div>
<div class="i6">Hand side, the Judgment Day!</div>
<div class="i0">I felt as airy as a lark that</div>
<div class="i6">Skies it from the ground,</div>
<div class="i0">To think she'd walk wid me, poor chap,</div>
<div class="i6">Wid only forty pound!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">She took me arm, an' thrapsed wid me,</div>
<div class="i6">All down be Sackville Sthreet,</div>
<div class="i0">An' colleens beautifully dhressed,</div>
<div class="i6">In two's and three's, we meet,</div>
<div class="i0">An' men that grinned, a greenish grin,</div>
<div class="i6">Of envy from their eye,</div>
<div class="i0">To see me wid that lady grand,</div>
<div class="i6">Like paycock marchin' by.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Till comin' to a lamp, I turned,</div>
<div class="i6">An' gazed into her eyes,</div>
<div class="i0">Me heart that minute took me throat</div>
<div class="i6">Wid lump of glad surprise,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i2">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</SPAN></span>
Siz I, "Me jewel, thim two eyes,</div>
<div class="i8">Are sparklin' awful keen,</div>
<div class="i2">"I'm sure," siz I, "I've come across,</div>
<div class="i8">Me mother's Fairy Queen!"</div>
<div class="i2">"O Corney yis," siz she, "I am,</div>
<div class="i8">A Fairy Queen;" siz she,</div>
<div class="i2">"An' I can make yer fortune now,</div>
<div class="i8">If you'll just come with me."</div>
<div class="i0">Wid that, I ups and says "of coorse!"</div>
<div class="i6">As bowld as I could spake,</div>
<div class="i0">"An' sure I will me darlin', if</div>
<div class="i6">Its only for your sake."</div>
</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo062.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="329" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Well, whin we passed the statutes white,</div>
<div class="i6">
Up to O'Connell Brudge,</div>
<div class="i0">The Fairy Queen smiled up at me,</div>
<div class="i6">An' gev a knowin' nudge,</div>
<div class="i0">"Corney!" siz she, "I want a dhrink!"</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</SPAN></span>
<div class="i6">"Do ye me dear?" siz I,</div>
<div class="i0">An' on the minute faith I felt,</div>
<div class="i6">Meself was shockin' dhry.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Well then she brought me coorsin off,</div>
<div class="i6">Down be the Liffy's walls,</div>
<div class="i0">An' up a narra gloomy sthreet,</div>
<div class="i6">Up to a Palace Halls!</div>
<div class="i0">An' there they wor, all splindid lit,</div>
<div class="i6">"Come in me love," siz she.</div>
<div class="i0">I thought me heart'ed brake, to hear</div>
<div class="i6">Her spake so kind to me!</div>
<div class="i0">Well in we wint, an' down we sat,</div>
<div class="i6">Behind a marvel schreen,</div>
<div class="i0">An' there we dhrank, of drink galore,</div>
<div class="i6">Me an' the Fairy Queen.</div>
<div class="i0">She spoke by alphabetic signs,</div>
<div class="i6">Siz she, "We'll have J.J.</div>
<div class="i0">An' whin we swalley'd that, siz she,</div>
<div class="i6">"L.L. is raal O.K."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">We tossed them off like milk, siz she,</div>
<div class="i6">"At these we need'nt stick,</div>
<div class="i0">D. W. D.'s a quench you'll find,</div>
<div class="i6">A. <span class="smcap">I</span>, an' up to Dick!"</div>
<div class="i0">Well thin she left the alphabet,</div>
<div class="i6">An' flying to the sky,</div>
<div class="i0">"The three star brand's the best" siz she,</div>
<div class="i6">"To sparkle up your eye,"</div>
<div class="i0">Thin "here!" says she "just taste Owld Tom,"</div>
<div class="i6">But augh! agin me grain</div>
<div class="i0">It wint! siz she "It's mum's the word,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</SPAN></span>
<div class="i6">We'll cure it, wid champagne!"</div>
<div class="i0">I never drank such sortin's, of</div>
<div class="i6">The drink, in all me life,</div>
<div class="i0">Signs on it, in the mornin', me</div>
<div class="i6">Digestion, was at strife!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">At last, we qualified our drooth,</div>
<div class="i6">An' up she got, siz she,</div>
<div class="i0">"We'll just retire to private life,</div>
<div class="i6">So Corney, come wid me."</div>
<div class="i0">But just before I stood to go,</div>
<div class="i6">I siz quite aisy "Miss,</div>
<div class="i0">You might bestow poor Corney K.</div>
<div class="i6">One little simple kiss."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Ah! Corney tibbey, sure," said she,</div>
<div class="i6">"Two if ye like, ye thrush!"</div>
<div class="i0">O have ye saw the blackberries,</div>
<div class="i6">Upon the brambly bush?</div>
<div class="i0">The Johnny Magory still is bright,</div>
<div class="i6">Whin all the flowers are dead,</div>
<div class="i0">Her hair, was like the blackberries!</div>
<div class="i6">Her dhress, Magory red!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">O have you ever saunthered out</div>
<div class="i6">Upon a winther's night,</div>
<div class="i0">Whin the crispy frost, is on the ground,</div>
<div class="i6">An' all the stars, are bright?</div>
<div class="i0">Then have you bent your awe sthrick gaze,</div>
<div class="i6">There, up aginst the skies?</div>
<div class="i0">The stars are very bright, you think,</div>
<div class="i6">Well thim was just her eyes</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img065.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="280" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</SPAN></span><div class="i0">
Were you ever down at the strawberry beds,</div>
<div class="i6">An' seen them dhrowned in chrame?</div>
<div class="i4">Well that was her complexion, and</div>
<div class="i6">Her teeth, wor shockin' white!</div>
<div class="i0">An' the music of her laughin' chaff,</div>
<div class="i6">Was like a beggar's dhrame,</div>
<div class="i0">Whin he hears the silver jingle, and</div>
<div class="i6">His rags are out of sight!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I thought the dhrop of dhrink was free,</div>
<div class="i6">But throth I had to pay!</div>
<div class="i0">I thought it quare, but then I thought,</div>
<div class="i6">It was the fairy's way;</div>
<div class="i0">"Howld on" siz I, "she's thryin' me,</div>
<div class="i6">Have I an open heart,</div>
<div class="i0">Before she makes me fortune," so,</div>
<div class="i6">Begar! I took a start</div>
<div class="i0">Of reckless generosity,</div>
<div class="i6">An' flung me money round,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">'Twas scatthered on the table! In</div>
<div class="i6">Her lap, an' on the ground!</div>
<div class="i0">I seen it glitter in the air,</div>
<div class="i6">Before me wondherin' eyes,</div>
<div class="i0">Like little yalla breasted imps,</div>
<div class="i6">All dhroppin from the skies!</div>
<div class="i0">O then I knew that it was threw,</div>
<div class="i6">She was a Fairy Queen,</div>
<div class="i0">The goold, came dhroppin'! whoppin'! hoppin'</div>
<div class="i6">The like was never seen!</div>
<div class="i0">I gave a whipping screech of joy!</div>
<div class="i6">Whin, wid a sudden whack,</div>
<div class="i0">Some hidden wizard, riz his wand,</div>
<div class="i6">An' sthruck me from the back,</div>
<div class="i0">Down came the clout upon the brain,</div>
<div class="i6">An' froze me senses quite,</div>
<div class="i0">An' over all me joy at once,</div>
<div class="i6">There shot the darkest night!</div>
</div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I knew no more, till I awoke,</div>
<div class="i6">An' found meself alone,</div>
<div class="i0">I thrust me hand, to grasp me purse,</div>
<div class="i6">Me forty pounds wor gone!</div>
<div class="i0">O then, with awful cursin', if</div>
<div class="i6">I didn't raise the scenes,</div>
<div class="i0">"Bad luck!" siz I, "to Leprechauns,</div>
<div class="i6">Bad scran, to Fairy Queens!</div>
<div class="i0">Bad luck to them, that spreads abroad,</div>
<div class="i6">Such shockin' lyin' tales,</div>
<div class="i0">Bad scran has me, that tears me hair,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</SPAN></span>
<div class="i6">An' forty pounds bewails!"</div>
<div class="i0">With that, I seen a man, come up,</div>
<div class="i6">A dark arch, marchin' thro',</div>
<div class="i0">As if he hadn't any work,</div>
<div class="i6">Particular to do.</div>
<div class="i0">He measured me, wid selfish eye,</div>
<div class="i6">As cat regards a rat,</div>
<div class="i0">An' whin he spoke, begor I found,</div>
<div class="i6">'Twas just his price at that!</div>
<div class="i0">Siz he "What's all this squealin' for?</div>
<div class="i6">What makes ye bawl?" siz he,</div>
<div class="i0">Siz he, "I'm a dissective, so,</div>
<div class="i6">You'll have to come wid me!"</div>
<div class="i0">Siz he, "Yer shouts wor almost loud</div>
<div class="i6">Enough, to crack the delph!</div>
<div class="i0">An' in the mornin' I must bring</div>
<div class="i6">Ye up, before himself!"</div>
<div class="i0">"Arrah! What for?" siz I, an' thin,</div>
<div class="i6">I towld him all me woe,</div>
<div class="i0">An' how I woke, an' found meself</div>
<div class="i6">Asleep, an' lyin' low.</div>
<div class="i0">I towld him of the whipsther, that</div>
<div class="i6">Had whipped me forty pound,</div>
<div class="i0">An' left me lyin' fast asleep,</div>
<div class="i6">In gutther, on the ground.</div>
<div class="i0">Then leerin' like, he turned, and siz,</div>
<div class="i6">"You're a nice boy! complate!</div>
<div class="i0">To go wid Fairy Queens, like that,</div>
<div class="i6">An' lose yer purse, so nate.</div>
<div class="i0">Corney!" siz he, "go home!" siz he,</div>
<div class="i6">"She might have sarved ye worse,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">I'll thry me best, to ketch the Fay,</div>
<div class="i6">An' get you back yer purse.</div>
<div class="i0">But look! don't shout like that again,</div>
<div class="i6">It was a shockin' shout,</div>
<div class="i0">It sthruck me, 'twas a house a-fire!</div>
<div class="i6">You riz up such a rout.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I thought you'd wake me wife! she sleeps,</div>
<div class="i6">Down in a churchyard near!"</div>
<div class="i0">Wid that, the dark dissective turned,</div>
<div class="i6">An' bursted in a tear!</div>
<div class="i0">I dhribbled out a few meself,</div>
<div class="i6">Me brow, wid shame I bint,</div>
<div class="i0">An' like a lamb, from slaughter, slow,</div>
<div class="i6">Wid tottherin' steps I wint,</div>
<div class="i0">But never, never from that day,</div>
<div class="i6">Was any tidins' seen,</div>
<div class="i0">Of me owld purse, me forty pound!</div>
<div class="i6">Or of the Fairy Queen!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Then, whin I thought of Norah's wrath,</div>
<div class="i6">An' what a power she'd say,</div>
<div class="i0">Me fine black hair, riz on me skull,</div>
<div class="i6">An' grew all grizzle gray!</div>
<div class="i0">O never more, to Dublin town,</div>
<div class="i6">I'll come, to sell me pigs!</div>
<div class="i0">I walk a melancholy man,</div>
<div class="i6">Like one, that's got the jigs,</div>
<div class="i0">An' in the town of Limerick, if</div>
<div class="i6">You ever chance, to meet</div>
<div class="i0">A haggard man, wid batthered hat,</div>
<div class="i6">Come sthridin down the sthreet,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</SPAN>
</span><div class="i0">An' if he stops, by fits and starts,</div>
<div class="i6">An' stares at nothin' keen!</div>
<div class="i0">Say "there goes Corney, look he's mad!</div>
<div class="i6">He cotch a Fairy Queen."</div>
<div class="i0">And if you chance in Sackville Sthreet,</div>
<div class="i6">Or any other way,</div>
<div class="i0">To meet, all beautifully dhrest,</div>
<div class="i6">A lovely colleen gay;</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">An' if she chances on the name,</div>
<div class="i6">That you wor christened by,</div>
<div class="i0">An' laughs, as if she knew ye,</div>
<div class="i6">With a cute acquaintance eye,</div>
<div class="i0">An' if she takes your arm, an' siz,</div>
<div class="i6">That she's a Fairy Queen,</div>
<div class="i0">Start back in horror, shout aloud,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i6">O woman am I green!</div>
<div class="i0">Am I before a doctor's shop,</div>
<div class="i6">Where coloured bottles be?</div>
<div class="i0">Is there a green light, on my face,</div>
<div class="i6">That you should spake to me?</div>
<div class="i0">Go home, O Fairy Queen, go home!</div>
<div class="i6">At once, an' holus bolus!</div>
<div class="i0">Remimber, Corney Keegan's purse,</div>
<div class="i6">An' think of the Dublin Polis</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo069.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="128" alt="decoration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="The_Devil_in_Richmond_Park"></SPAN>THE DEVIL IN RICHMOND PARK</h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo070.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="738" alt="The devil in Richmond Park" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">I</div> WAS walking about, in a casual way,</div>
<div class="i2">Thro' the ferns, in Richmond Park,</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas just at the fringe of the twilight hour,</div>
<div class="i2">On the skirt, of the time called dark,</div>
<div class="i0">And the wind was rough, and I couldn't succeed,</div>
<div class="i6">To kindle my three-penny smoke,</div>
<div class="i2">When a gentleman stepped from behind a tree,</div>
<div class="i6">And coughed, and hemmed, and spoke:</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</SPAN></span>
"You'll pardon me, Sir, you're in want of a light,"</div>
<div class="i2">Said he, with a bow to me,</div>
<div class="i0">And straight producing a braided star,</div>
<div class="i2">He struck it against his knee,</div>
<div class="i0">And with an expression of much concern,</div>
<div class="i2">To see that my weed was right,</div>
<div class="i0">He manipulated the light himself,</div>
<div class="i2">With a courtesy most polite.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I am one, who is quickly impressed, and won,</div>
<div class="i2">By measure of courteous act,</div>
<div class="i0">So deeming it right, to appreciate,</div>
<div class="i2">In response of appropriate tact,</div>
<div class="i0">I spake to him thus, "It's rare that a man</div>
<div class="i2">In a gentleman's dress like thine,</div>
<div class="i0">Doth care to assist, the frivolous wants,</div>
<div class="i2">Of a miniature vice like mine,</div>
<div class="i0">So reckon it not, as a rudeness wrought,</div>
<div class="i2">Of an ignorant wish to know,</div>
<div class="i0">But I'd certainly like to learn the name,</div>
<div class="i2">Of the gent, who has touched me so!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Then he glittered a grin, from his cat-like eye,</div>
<div class="i2">Thro' a coal black lash on me,</div>
<div class="i0">And he bowed, with his lifted silk top hat,</div>
<div class="i2">"I'm the Devil himself!" quoth he.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Good gracious! yes, I was certainly struck,</div>
<div class="i2">So suddenly thus to be</div>
<div class="i0">With the Devil himself! but soon, or late,</div>
<div class="i2">He was bound to appear to me.</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</SPAN></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">So screwing my nerves, to concert pitch,</div>
<div class="i2">To play up my soul, for wealth,</div>
<div class="i0">With a supplemental proviso made,</div>
<div class="i2">For excellent mortal health,</div>
<div class="i0">I offered to scribble my autograph,</div>
<div class="i2">In blood, old-storied style,</div>
<div class="i0">To deed, for a compensating line,</div>
<div class="i2">From his notable strong room pile.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">But he looked on me, with a pitying glance,</div>
<div class="i2">I counted somewhat queer,</div>
<div class="i0">And answered me thus,—in a friendly way,</div>
<div class="i2">With a slight sarcastic leer.</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo072.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="272" alt="I" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
T'S a long time, Sir, I assure you, since</div>
<div class="i2">I endeavoured, to so combine,</div>
<div class="i0">My games of spoof, for the human soul,</div>
<div class="i2">In the bartering oofftish line.</div>
<div class="i0">I suffered by many a measly cheat,</div>
<div class="i2">When mortals made those sales,</div>
<div class="i0">You'll read of their shuffling knavish tricks,</div>
<div class="i0">Thro' the mediæval tales,</div>
<div class="i0">If you think, that by selling your soul to me,</div>
<div class="i2">Is the way to get rich, it ain't,</div>
<div class="i0">You'll have to become, a Devil yourself,</div>
<div class="i2">In the garb, of a modern Saint.</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">"It's the fashionable way, to play the game,</div>
<div class="i2">Of hypocritical spoof,</div>
<div class="i0">You have only to tailor your saintly robe,</div>
<div class="i2">To cover your tell tale hoof,</div>
<div class="i0">You have only to hypnotise mankind,</div>
<div class="i2">And teach them, to gaze on high,</div>
<div class="i0">And while you have mesmerised them thus,</div>
<div class="i2">With eyes, to the upward sky,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"You can plot, exploit, and sneak, and trick,</div>
<div class="i2">And cram your wallet, with wares,</div>
<div class="i0">And earthly stocks, as you boom the run,</div>
<div class="i2">On the New Jerusalem shares,</div>
<div class="i0">You can rob the widow, and orphan child;</div>
<div class="i2">But reputably go to church,</div>
<div class="i0">And if, by the clogging of circumstance,</div>
<div class="i2">Your pinched, in the doomdock lurch,</div>
<div class="i0">The greater the pile of swag, you've made,</div>
<div class="i2">The fewer the blanks, you'll draw,</div>
<div class="i0">From the lottery wheel, of the English bench,</div>
<div class="i2">In the name, of the English law.</div>
<div class="i0">It's merely a mode, of paying yourself,</div>
<div class="i2">In advance, a liberal wage,</div>
<div class="i0">For the government work, you'll have to do,</div>
<div class="i2">In the broad-arrow-branded stage.</div>
<div class="i0">Say thirty thousands of pounds, you filch,</div>
<div class="i2">Five years, is the time you'll do,</div>
<div class="i0">Six thousand a year, in advance, you see,</div>
<div class="i2">To enjoy, when you've pulled it thro'.</div>
<div class="i0">Or, seizing your pile, by a dextrous coup,</div>
<div class="i2">Before they have time, to look down,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">From the castles, in the air,</div>
<div class="i0">You have built for them there,</div>
<div class="i4">You can take a foreign ticket from town.</div>
<div class="i0">"And tho' you are lagged, at the ends of the earth,</div>
<div class="i2">You'll still find a breach, or a flaw,</div>
<div class="i0">Whereby you can slip, thro' the quips, that confuse,</div>
<div class="i4">Extradition—international law.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Now that is how I teach, the quickest way to cure,</div>
<div class="i4">Your impecuniosity complaint,</div>
<div class="i0">You must collar the swag, as a Devil yourself,</div>
<div class="i4">In the garb, of a modern saint.</div>
<div class="i0">There's another way to pinch, whereby you may keep,</div>
<div class="i4">Your character, apparently sound,</div>
<div class="i0">Go pray, and exhort, teach the vanity of wealth,</div>
<div class="i4">And pay, half-a-crown in the pound!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Now bear it in mind, if you're wanting to make,</div>
<div class="i4">Let this, be your measureless plaint,</div>
<div class="i0">The misery of wealth, get a halo, and preach,</div>
<div class="i4">In the garb, of a modern Saint."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Again he lifted his silk top hat,</div>
<div class="i4">And bowing an adieu to me,</div>
<div class="i0">He vanished away, with a lordly crawl,</div>
<div class="i4">In the trunk, of the nearest tree,</div>
<div class="i0">And thus, were my mediæval hopes</div>
<div class="i4">Of wealth, by a caustic blow,</div>
<div class="i0">Dispersed, and a lesson of evil taught,</div>
<div class="i4">By the Devil, who touched me so.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="Saved" id="Saved">SAVED!</SPAN></h2>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo075.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="201" alt="saved" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo075a.jpg" width-obs="195" height-obs="489" alt="illustration" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo075b.jpg" width-obs="490" height-obs="73" alt="illustration" class="splitl" /></p>
<p class="margintop4 prose">
<span class="i0"><span class="hide">I</span> PICTURED out my passion,</span><br/>
<span class="i0">In florid fretwork fashion,</span><br/>
<span class="i2">Expostulating!</span><br/>
<span class="i4">Waiting!</span><br/>
<span class="i4">Stating,</span><br/>
<span class="i2">Mating we must be,</span><br/>
<span class="i0">And subtle thought, relating,</span><br/>
<span class="i0">To scheme, of emigrating,</span><br/>
<span class="i0">With bride, to land of Bashan,</span><br/>
<span class="i4">Was exercising me;</span><br/>
<span class="i0">When, peering like a picket,</span><br/>
<span class="i4">Or a cricket,</span><br/>
<span class="i4">From a thicket,</span><br/>
<span class="i4">Thro' the wicket,</span><br/>
<span class="i0">Came another, on the scene,</span><br/>
<span class="i4">And we were three!</span><br/>
<span class="i0">'Twas the spinster, in a hurried</span><br/>
<span class="i0">Fit of minorhood, I married,</span><br/>
<span class="i2">She succoured me</span><br/>
<span class="i2">From bigamy,</span><br/>
<span class="i4">Said she,</span><br/>
<span class="i2">"Come home to tea!"</span><br/>
<span class="i0">I went, and drank it boiling,—</span><br/>
<span class="i0">A mug of strong Bohea!—</span><br/>
<span class="i0">I drank it, without sugar,</span><br/>
<span class="i0">A tannic dose, for me!</span></p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</SPAN></span></p>
<h2><SPAN name="A_Most_Remarkable_Case" id="A_Most_Remarkable_Case">A MOST REMARKABLE CASE</SPAN></h2>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem" >
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo076a.jpg" width-obs="489" height-obs="185" alt="A most remarkable case" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo076b.jpg" width-obs="182" height-obs="454" alt="A most remarkable case" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="margintop">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
<div class="dropcap">'T</div>WAS an incident Matrimonial, the Probate Court the place,</div>
<div class="i0">And 'twas for the co-respondent, a most remarkable case,</div>
<div class="i0">For good was the leading counsel, and moral the words spake he,</div>
<div class="i0">And fashionable ladies listened, to Writ MacFee, Q.C.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He rose to his feet and setting his most magniloquent frown,</div>
<div class="i0">He fingered his brief for a moment, a moment, and laid it down,</div>
<div class="i0">Then out of his golden snuffbox, he powdered his pampered nose,</div>
<div class="i0">And then with a pull back rustle of silk, to its wonted pose,</div>
<div class="i0">He heliographed to the jury, a glitter of eyeful glee,</div>
<div class="i0">And as he surveyed the respondent, most rep-re-hen-siv-lee,</div>
<div class="i0">He mounted his golden pinc-nez, and on this wise spake he.</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</SPAN></span><div class="i0">"Me Lud, and O gents of the Jury, it's a most remarkable case!</div>
<div class="i0">And I don't hesitate for a moment, my cause in your hands to place,</div>
<div class="i0">For O," said the counsellor, purring, with subtle seductive leer,</div>
<div class="i0">"I never beheld such a jury, in the length of my long career!</div>
<div class="i0">I assure you it makes it easy for an advocate like to me,</div>
<div class="i0">To open the most remarkable case <em>ver.</em> Tommins, L.R.C.P."</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Then marking his condemnation, with voice like a double bass D.</div>
<div class="i0">"The co-respond' is a doctor, John Tommins, L.R.C.P.,</div>
<div class="i0">A leech of the muddiest water, a pill, that has given the sick,</div>
<div class="i0">An emetic of truth, a plaister of pitch, with a warrant to stick,</div>
<div class="i0">It's O when consumptive virtue, is treated by such, you see</div>
<div class="i0">The ruin, like that enacted by Tommins, L.R.C.P.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He was called to attend the Lady May Monica Pendigrew,</div>
<div class="i0">From a fit of the blues he roused her, and prettily pulled her through,</div>
<div class="i0">But managed her like a pilot, who getting a treacherous grip,</div>
<div class="i0">Sails out into deeper water, to scuttle and sink the ship!</div>
<div class="i0">O gents, by æsthetical fraud, he played on the lady's mind,</div>
<div class="i0">With Shakespeare collar and fur, a sunflower, and such kind,</div>
<div class="i0">He called her too utterly too, and posed in a limpish style,</div>
<div class="i0">And droned in a minorly key, of love, like a fretwork file.</div>
<div class="i0">Me Lud, and O gentlemen, gents, the co-respond' may smile,</div>
<div class="i0">Your sympathy thus to win, by means of trover of guile,</div>
<div class="i0">But no! you will give him a check, whereby you will take your place,</div>
<div class="i0">As the most remarkable twelve, of the most remarkable case!"</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img078.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="225" alt="Jury Box" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</SPAN></span>
'Twas thus, with vigour, and vim, and verve, and casuist glee,</div>
<div class="i0">The raftered roof re-echoed, the shouts of Writ MacFee,</div>
<div class="i0">While envious briefless Bees, admired his logic, and gist,</div>
<div class="i0">Accentuate note, and pause, well marked by his thumping fist,</div>
<div class="i0">He stood on the councillor's seat, with one of his feet—the left,</div>
<div class="i0">And the stuffy compression of air, with whirling silk he cleft,</div>
<div class="i0">And this, was his winding up, "O Father, Brother, and Son,</div>
<div class="i0">Oh this is a case, concerning each individual one,</div>
<div class="i0">And confident of your verdict, now into your hands I place,</div>
<div class="i0">O gentlemen, gents of the Jury, this most remarkable case!"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">With quiver of deep emotion, one hypnothetical glance,</div>
<div class="i0">He photophoned to the jury, at Tommins he looked askance,</div>
<div class="i0">Then daintily mopped his forehead, some virtuous beads of heat,</div>
<div class="i0">He sopped in his red bandana, and then he resumed his seat.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Then "Oh!" said the ladies in court,</div>
<div class="i10">"Wasn't that lawyer a treat?"</div>
<div class="i0">Concussion of parasols, sticks, hands, and stamping feet,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">Till the usher expostulated, aloud in a startling shout,</div>
<div class="i12">"Silence!!!"</div>
<div class="i0">And his Ludship sternly threatened, to bundle the audience out,</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo079a.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="308" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Poor Tommins had then to listen to evidence from the box,</div>
<div class="i0">And now, and again, it dealt him, a stagger of nasty knocks;</div>
<div class="i0">Acquaintances there subpœnad, identification swore,</div>
<div class="i0">And others, who sneaked the keyhole, of sitting apartment door.</div>
<div class="i0">What mattered the osculation, with which he smacked the book,</div>
<div class="i0">A fig for his indignation, a jot for his injured look,</div>
<div class="i0">The jury, and judge, decided the damage, and costs, to be</div>
<div class="i0">Three thousand pounds, to the client of Writ MacFee, Q.C.</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo079b.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="202" alt="EXTRA SPECIAL MOST REMAKABLE CASE VERDICT" /></div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">T</div>HE tweezers of time, had sparsed his hair, when Tommins, L.R.C.P.</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_68" id="Page_68">68</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">Was mooning around, to a neighbouring square, to join in an evening tea,</div>
<div class="i0">When a tremulous maiden, checked his steps, and cried him, "O Mister Man,</div>
<div class="i0">Me mother's afeered, that the two pair back, is goin' to kick the can!</div>
<div class="i0">O Mister Medical Sir, he's sick, an' owin' a quarter's rent,</div>
<div class="i0">An' that's the most, of the cause for why, of the hurry, that I was sent,</div>
<div class="i0">O Mister Medical Man, Sir please, O please Sir folly me quick,</div>
<div class="i0">You might be able to worry him thro' from the fit of the stiffnin' sick!</div>
<div class="i0">Oh! come Sir, please Sir, do Sir come,</div>
<div class="i0">O hurry an' come with me quick!"</div>
<div class="i0">From sympathetic professional heart, for indigent sick alway,</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo080.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="299" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="i0">
He gave a positive kind response, to the girl, who thus did pray,</div>
<div class="i0">And on thro' court, and alley, and lane, he followed her devious track,</div>
<div class="i0">Then mounting a rickety deal wood stair, he entered a two pair back,</div>
<div class="i0">And there, in the glim of a halfpenny dipt, he gazed on a ghastly man,</div>
<div class="i0">And he counted his pulse, said the girl "Do you think he's likely to kick the can?"</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</SPAN></span><div class="i0">The sick man rose to an elbow prop, at Tommins, to blink and stare!</div>
<div class="i0">He seemed an anatomy, made for show, of eyes, and nose, and hair,</div>
<div class="i0">He peered awhile thro' the starving glim, and then, with a moan cried he,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"O God, have you come to haunt me here, John Tommins, L.R.C.P.?</div>
<div class="i0">O is it with pills, or senna and salts, your 'shake up the bottle' and mess</div>
<div class="i0">Of slops, to avenge for the deed I've done? have mercy and I'll confess!</div>
<div class="i0">O pester me not to swallow your stuff, I will not allow you to bleed!</div>
<div class="i0">O spare me Tommins, I'm guilty, guilt, is what I'm about to plead!"</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">The doctor shrank with a searching gaze, that clung to the startled ghost,</div>
<div class="i0">In doubt awhile, for the rounded lines of his manhood's prime were lost,</div>
<div class="i0">Till memory striking the evil past, the doctor's eye did trace,</div>
<div class="i0">With a shock to his heart, the Writ MacFee of the most remarkable case!</div>
<div class="i0">His memory jarred on the Probate Court, with all its sorrowful shame,</div>
<div class="i0">Disastrous check, to his early hopes, of honor, and medical fame,</div>
<div class="i0">And with a potion of pity, and hate, he knew the furrowy face</div>
<div class="i0">Of the grim, of the Writ MacFee, Q.C., of the most remarkable case.</div>
<div class="i0">The bloom of his pampered nose was gone, 'twas shrivelled, and pinched, and shrunk!</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_70" id="Page_70">70</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">His adipose peach of cheek, was fled, 'twas lean, and withered, and sunk,</div>
<div class="i0">A derelict there; by the prosperous port of wealth, and power, and place,</div>
<div class="i0">He lay the identical Writ MacFee, of the most remarkable case!</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo082.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="360" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"O spare me doctor! for I'll confess,—I should have been in your place.</div>
<div class="i0">As the treacherous co-respondent, of the most remarkable case,</div>
<div class="i0">T'was I, was the homestead wrecker, but never as Writ MacFee,</div>
<div class="i0">I played me, a knave's deception, as Tommins, L.R.C.P.!</div>
<div class="i0">I bought from a needy super, the beard, moustaches, and wig,</div>
<div class="i0">I managed to coach my tailor, to model me in your rig,</div>
<div class="i0">And thus I received a welcome, to lunch, and dinner, and tea,</div>
<div class="i0">As Tommins the medical doctor, but never as Writ MacFee.</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">O Doctor Tommins have mercy! I beg to legacy thee,</div>
<div class="i0">With thirty tickets of pawn to name, of Writ MacFee, Q.C.</div>
<div class="i0">In a brief bag under the bed, tied up in a worn-out wig,</div>
<div class="i0">You will find a memento there, of mock æsthetical rig,</div>
<div class="i0">The spats and the collar and vest, I wore when I went to see,</div>
<div class="i0">The Lady Monica Pendigrew, as Tommins, L.R.C.P.</div>
<div class="i0">O Doctor Tommins forgive! the cost and the foul disgrace,</div>
<div class="i0">Of debt, for the illsome guilt, of the most remarkable case,</div>
<div class="i0">O Doctor Tommins have grace!" he rose with a greedy stare,</div>
<div class="i0">And gripped with his reedy fists, the mat of his weedy hair!</div>
<div class="i0">Then moaning a hungry sigh, for life, with a choking breath,</div>
<div class="i0">He fell with accusing cry, "O Tommins you've brought me death!</div>
<div class="i0">But I won't have a pauper's coffin! so give me a decent show—</div>
<div class="i0">Whew!—eh—what's this? O thunder thun—un—der and lightning———Oh!</div>
<div class="i0">Ah!—mercy me Lud! O mercy! thun—un—der an' light—ning———Oh!!</div>
<div class="i0">It's a sine die, the morrow for me, Ah! mercy me Lud, Oh!———Oh!"</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">The girl ran out of the two pair back, and down the stairs she ran,</div>
<div class="i0">With shouts, as she took three steps at a time, "The lodger has kicked the can!</div>
<div class="i0">Mother, O mother, we've lost the rent, the lodger has kicked the can!</div>
<div class="i0">It's just what you said of the two pair back, he's gone an he's kicked the can!"</div>
</div></div>
</div></div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo083.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="26" alt="decoration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="A_Tour_to" id="A_Tour_to">A TOUR TO SVITSERLAND</SPAN></h2>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="poem">
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo084a.jpg" width-obs="496" height-obs="455" alt="A Trip to Svitserland" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo084b.jpg" width-obs="138" height-obs="161" alt="S" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="beginpoem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">AID she, "The Parkinses have gone, and all the Doolys, too,</div>
<div class="i0">The Mcriartys, and the Dunns, and Mrs. old MacHugh;</div>
<div class="i0">The Dalys and Fitzpatricks, with all their kin, and kinds,</div>
<div class="i0">Have mounted crumpled papers, on all their window blinds.</div>
<div class="i0">Ah! stop that old piano, you ding it all the day,</div>
<div class="i0">It's only when your pupils are here, you make it pay;</div>
<div class="i0">And all your pupils' parents, and all their kin, and kinds,</div>
<div class="i0">Have all got crumpled papers, on all their cotton blinds."</div>
<div class="i0">He stopped the old piano, and "Vot of zat?" said he,</div>
<div class="i0">"Regarding which, we'll have to do exact the same," said she.</div>
<div class="i0">"For if we don't, we'll be the talk for many a day to come,</div>
<div class="i0">That when all others went abroad, the Zazels kept at home.</div>
<div class="i0">It's positively foolish, affects your daughter's hopes—"</div>
<div class="i0">"Vel, zhere," said he, "go pack ze thronk, I'll tie it vit ze ropes;</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</SPAN></span><div class="i0">And you discharge ze servong, ze moment zat you find,</div>
<div class="i0">She's pinned ze crumpled papers, on all ze cotton blind:</div>
<div class="i0">And put ze gossip on her tongue, for Svitzerland ve sail,</div>
<div class="i0">Ze-morrow in ze Dover boat, vot brings ze voreign mail;</div>
<div class="i0">And say, its Oh, so secret, by shings, but she vill blow</div>
<div class="i0">Ze news, around ze town, until ze all ze people know."</div>
</div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo085a.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="130" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
The Dover boat had started, when, lo! prospecting round,</div>
<div class="i0">A man upon the windows, those crumpled papers found.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Hello!" said he, "such houses are always left for me,"</div>
<div class="i0">And crept into the fanlight, and foraged round with glee.</div>
<div class="i0">He stole away the silver, he stole away the clocks,</div>
<div class="i0">He augured out the secret, of the children's savings' box;</div>
<div class="i0">He laughed, and he did chuckle, and cackling "Ha!" said he,</div>
<div class="i0">"The men who leave their houses thus, are men who toil for me."</div>
<div class="i0">Alas! that in my ballads, I have to tune my song,</div>
<div class="i0">To many flats, and minors, to show where sharps go wrong.</div>
</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo085b.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="144" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
He donned a suit, next morning,</div>
<div class="i0">And sought an auctioneer—</div>
<div class="i0">"I'm ordered out to China, so harken, and look here;</div>
<div class="i0">Bring up your ivory hammer to the house, where you will see,</div>
<div class="i0">The blinds in crumpled papers, and cant the lot for me."</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</SPAN></span><div class="i0">He auctioned off the carpets, the suites of every room,</div>
<div class="i0">He canted to a builder, the villa for its doom;</div>
<div class="i0">He made him sign a docket, to take down every brick,</div>
<div class="i0">Within the shortest notice, so he commenced it quick.</div>
<div class="i0">They first upset the chimneys, and then unstitched the slates,</div>
<div class="i0">They lifted off the rafters, and rooted out the grates;</div>
<div class="i0">The door, and window casings, they took in several hauls,</div>
<div class="i0">And carted off, the debris of bricks, that made the walls.</div>
</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo086.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="362" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i4">
At length a workman picking with crowbar, in the rear,</div>
<div class="i4">Let fall his pipe in terror, his knees went loose with fear,</div>
<div class="i4">A chill of woe electric, begirt his heart, like lead,</div>
<div class="i4">He found a row of corpses, and every corpse was dead!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I've sketched him, with the crowbar, and falling pipe, to show</div>
<div class="i0">His awful fright, and sorrow, the fact is, such a blow</div>
<div class="i0">Might paralize his senses, unfit him for his trade—</div>
<div class="i0">I hope some kindly ladies, will have collections made.</div>
<div class="i0">But yet a glamoured beauty was on them all, so nice,</div>
<div class="i0">He felt like pins and needles, in glass of strawberry ice,</div>
<div class="i0">He shambled round a corner, "O Constable!" he said,</div>
<div class="i0">"I've found a row of corpses, and every corpse is dead!"</div>
<div class="i0">I like that honest fellow, tho' poor, with eye forlorn,</div>
<div class="i0">Said he, "O Mister Pleeceman, I wish I wasn't born"—</div>
<div class="i0">I've sought again to sketch him, above their ghastly rest,</div>
<div class="i0">He indicates a label, on every corpse's breast.</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"><ANTIMG src="images/illo087a.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="158" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</SPAN></span>
'Twas down an empty cellar, below the bottle shelves,</div>
<div class="i0">They looked as they were sleeping, in fact, they looked themselves,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">The daughters of Herr Zazel, the wife of Zazel, and</div>
<div class="i0">The Pleeceman asked for Zazel, was he in Switzerland?</div>
<div class="i0">The oldest native, answered a deputating clutch</div>
<div class="i0">Of specials, that there never before did happen such,</div>
<div class="i0">And so they wrote sensations, and from the civic band,</div>
<div class="i0">A posse of detectives, went scoot for Switzerland.</div>
</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo087b.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="126" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
The crowner's Morgue was opened, the jurymen were caught,</div>
<div class="i0">And every man protested, although he didn't ought,</div>
<div class="i0">They went to view the corpses.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Mein gott, vots them?" said one,</div>
<div class="i0">"Votever has there happened, vots been, and gone, and done?</div>
<div class="i0">I could'nt spare ze money, avay mit me, so many,</div>
<div class="i0">And so tinks I, I'll mesmer zem all, I vont brings any,</div>
<div class="i0">I wraps 'em up mit labels, vots tied upon zem zare,</div>
<div class="i0">Ven I comes home, to vake 'em, and sorts 'em up mit care.</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</SPAN></span><div class="i0">I vos in my purse, only ze cash enough to stand,</div>
<div class="i0">For vot you calls, von single man, avay in Svitzerland.</div>
<div class="i0">And so I mesmerised my vife, my daughters, von by von,</div>
<div class="i0">And now I'll vake 'em all, and zen, by shings, you zee me run!"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He party pumped his arms, he made a maze of passes,</div>
<div class="i0">With flashing eyes of flame, that lit his pinc nez glasses.</div>
<div class="i0">He clawed with his phalanges as he were going to seize</div>
<div class="i0">Some hidden ghost, when lo! at length, his wife began to sneeze,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">His wife commenced the sneezing, the girls took up the que,</div>
<div class="i0">"Now zee me run, or you vill find, too moosh vor me to do,"</div>
<div class="i0">He cried, and off he started, and took the tram for home,</div>
<div class="i0">When peering thro' the twilight, of autumn's evening gloam,</div>
<div class="i0">He saw a shocking poster, that curdled up his blood,</div>
<div class="i0">"This ground to let for building," on which his house had stood,</div>
<div class="i0">He laughed a weird, and woful, idiotic laugh at fate,</div>
<div class="i0">He took a second tram-car, and sought a barber straight,</div>
<div class="i0">And sitting down, he uttered a low despairing groan,</div>
<div class="i0">"I'm vot you calls vor Bedlam, so shaves me to ze bone!!"</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo088.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="191" alt="illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="JOY" id="JOY">JOY! ON SEEING A FLYING SPRING.</SPAN></h2>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo089a.jpg" width-obs="495" height-obs="324" alt="Joy on seeing a flying spring" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo089b.jpg" width-obs="77" height-obs="319" alt="I" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo089c.jpg" width-obs="489" height-obs="155" alt="illustration" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><span class="hide">I</span> MADE him quite at home,</div>
<div class="i6">In a villa just by Rome,—</div>
<div class="i0">An Italian, of the antient noble style,—</div>
<div class="i0">But I saw him 'neath a star,</div>
<div class="i0">And the tink of his guitar,</div>
<div class="i6">Was an irritating thing, that made me smile,</div>
<div class="i6">His object, was my spouse for to beguile,</div>
<div class="i0">But when he caught it hot,</div>
<div class="i0">With sporting gun, and shot,</div>
<div class="i0">He took a flying spring, across a stile!</div>
<div class="i0">His object, was my spouse for to beguile.</div>
</div></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="The_Mate_of_the_Mary_Anne" id="The_Mate_of_the_Mary_Anne">THE MATE OF THE MARY ANNE</SPAN></h2>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo090.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="327" alt="The Mate of the Mary Anne" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">"I</div>' M the Mate," quoth he, "Of the 'Mary Anne,'"</div>
<div class="i6">As she opened the door to him,</div>
<div class="i0">And I'm all the way from the state of New York,</div>
<div class="i6">With a present, I've got from Jim!"</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"O dear!" said she, "It's a pleasure to see</div>
<div class="i6">A friend, who has known my son,</div>
<div class="i0">We've a party, enjoying the evening tea,</div>
<div class="i6">And you're just in time for fun."</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Ah! thank you," said he, "I would like to explain,</div>
<div class="i6">The chest, is a cumbersome weight,</div>
<div class="i0">I'd have brought it myself; but I hadn't the dimes,</div>
<div class="i6">To cover the cost of the freight.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"It's a matter of seventeen shillings and six,</div>
<div class="i6">But you see, I am one of the crew,</div>
<div class="i0">I'd have paid it myself, for sake of your son,</div>
<div class="i6">If I could have lifted my screw."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">"Ah! Jim was the very best pal that I knew,"</div>
<div class="i6">She got out the cash for him,</div>
<div class="i0">"Now hang up your hat, and come in to the tea,</div>
<div class="i6">And tell us a lot about Jim."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He hung up his hat, and went in to the tea,</div>
<div class="i6">Said he to a girl, who was there,</div>
<div class="i0">"You're the livin' dead image of my chum Jim,</div>
<div class="i6">Regardin' yer figure, and hair."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Said he to another, "Yer like yer mother,</div>
<div class="i6">But still the expression of Jim,</div>
<div class="i0">Is a playin' around yer beautiful smile,</div>
<div class="i6">A perfeck sister of him.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"I guess you are soft, on the ring that I wear,"</div>
<div class="i6">And he 'splayed his horney fist,</div>
<div class="i0">"I'd like you to wear it, for honor of Jim,</div>
<div class="i6">'Twould almost bangle your wrist!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"For savin' his wife, from a shark, I got</div>
<div class="i6">The trinket, at Scooperaboo,</div>
<div class="i0">From a Monarch, who gave it me, out of his nose,</div>
<div class="i6">I'm proud to present it to you.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"The ring is too grand, for my tanned hand,</div>
<div class="i6">It's a valuable old gew gaw,</div>
<div class="i0">I'm skeered, I'd be robbed o' the thing some night,</div>
<div class="i6">In the grip of a lawless claw.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">"It's a putty gay keepsake, that you've got there,</div>
<div class="i6">I'd be glad for sake of poor Jim—"</div>
<div class="i0">And he paused, "O yes you may have it," said she,</div>
<div class="i6">"Ah! thanks! when I'm back with him.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"I guess he'll be proud to see it, and hear,</div>
<div class="i6">That I have presented to you,</div>
<div class="i0">The ring that I got, for savin' the wife,</div>
<div class="i6">Of the Monarch of Scooperaboo.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"I've a bauble that's here, on a link of my chain,</div>
<div class="i6">It's made of a nugget I got,</div>
<div class="i0">I never can know it, I'll maybe be darned!</div>
<div class="i6">Or drowned! or skivered! or shot!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"It's a nugget to waste, with a fellow like me,</div>
<div class="i6">To be sportin' it out of the shop,</div>
<div class="i0">Here! take it by gum! you're the mother of Jim!</div>
<div class="i6">Or maybe I'd put it in pop."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Ah! Sir" said the mother "You're far too kind!"</div>
<div class="i6">As he fastened it on to her chain,</div>
<div class="i0">"Will you keep this locket in place of it? there,</div>
<div class="i6">I will never require it again,"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Aha!" said he, "It's a moral, to see</div>
<div class="i6">You're the spirit of Jim all out,</div>
<div class="i0">I'll have it, and wear it, for honour of Jim,</div>
<div class="i6">Without no manner of doubt.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">"Eh! what's the time, I am bound to an hour,</div>
<div class="i6">I'd like to remain, if I can,</div>
<div class="i0">But the captain's keepin' the cable taut,</div>
<div class="i6">On the men of the 'Mary Anne.'</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Let somebody travel with me to-night,</div>
<div class="i6">Who will carry the luggage ashore,</div>
<div class="i0">I'll bring all your compliments out to Jim,</div>
<div class="i6">If I may not see you no more."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Said a girl, who was there, with auburn hair,</div>
<div class="i6">Who hadn't been talking free,</div>
<div class="i0">"The weather is dark, and you say the ship,</div>
<div class="i6">Is out some yards at sea,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"It's better that two, should travel with you,</div>
<div class="i6">The journey's a little too far,</div>
<div class="i0">And one'll take charge of the present from Jim,</div>
<div class="i6">The other, can go for a car."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">So two of the gentlemen, offered to go,</div>
<div class="i6">Who had been at the evening tea,</div>
<div class="i0">And they all shook hands, and the three took tramp,</div>
<div class="i6">To the wall, by the wailing sea.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"I guess that we ought to be havin' a quench,"</div>
<div class="i6">Said the Mate, "For I always do,</div>
<div class="i0">I never go thirsty, aboard at night,"</div>
<div class="i6">So he went, and treated the two.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">They sat in a room, at the back of the bar,</div>
<div class="i6">Discussing three tumblers hot,</div>
<div class="i0">"I'm darned, if we won't have a couple of smokes!"</div>
<div class="i6">Said he, "And I'll settle the shot."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"You'll pull a cigar with me, by gum!</div>
<div class="i6">I'll get them 'and jest you set,'"</div>
<div class="i0">He went with his purse, to the bar to pay,</div>
<div class="i6">And they have not seen him yet!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">But whether he's shot, or whether he's drowned,</div>
<div class="i6">Or darned, the Host did say,</div>
<div class="i0">Behind the bar, as he pulled a pint,</div>
<div class="i6">That "the drink was still to pay!"</div>
</div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">She laughed a laugh, when the twain returned,</div>
<div class="i5">"You're a mighty discerning pair!"</div>
<div class="i0">And she posed her nose, with a tilted tip,</div>
<div class="i5">Did the girl, with the auburn hair.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">They all suggested, a different way,</div>
<div class="i6">Of finding the missing Mate,</div>
<div class="i0">"Put out your brains," said the auburn hair,</div>
<div class="i6">"On a clean, blue pattern plate.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"And twig a few of the cobwebs off,</div>
<div class="i6">From Scooperaboo, look there!</div>
<div class="i0">We've Brumagem trinkets, of glass, and brass!"</div>
<div class="i6">Said the girl, of the auburn hair.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="AN_UMBRELLA_CASE" id="AN_UMBRELLA_CASE">AN UMBRELLA CASE.</SPAN></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo095.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="405" alt="Un umbrella case" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I saw a dress! 'twas of my wife,</div>
<div class="i0">She stepped along with frivol rife,</div>
<div class="i0">And by her side, a man of strife</div>
<div class="i6">A guardsman of the line.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Ha ha! So ho! was here a cause,</div>
<div class="i0">To agitate the Probate laws,</div>
<div class="i0">For a divorce, I did not pause,</div>
<div class="i6">With guardsman of the line,</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I had an umbrella stout,</div>
<div class="i0">I lifted it, I flung it out,</div>
<div class="i0">In semicircle, with a shout,</div>
<div class="i6">At guardsman of the line!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Ah! me, for an unlucky wight!</div>
<div class="i0">Beneath the sick electric light,</div>
<div class="i0">She turned, O shock unto my sight!</div>
<div class="i6">She was no wife of mine!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He didn't draw, I wasn't slain,</div>
<div class="i0">But of that blow, he did complain,</div>
<div class="i0">And made me wipe away the stain,</div>
<div class="i6">With legal brief, and twine.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="The_Spook" id="The_Spook">THE SPOOK OF ROTTEN ROW</SPAN></h2>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo096.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="732" alt="A Story Told by Jones—The Spook of Rotten Row" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">O</div>NE evening, as in troubled mood,</div>
<div class="i4">I sampled Rotten Row,</div>
<div class="i0">Across my scapula, I got</div>
<div class="i4">A sharp conclusive blow!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</SPAN></span>
A flat concussion of a palm,</div>
<div class="i4">Was quick, and deftly laid,</div>
<div class="i0">With rude familiar frowardness,</div>
<div class="i4">Against my shoulder blade!</div>
<div class="i0">The impact curled up my blood;</div>
<div class="i4">And almost in a thrice,</div>
<div class="i0">My heart refrigerated, to</div>
<div class="i4">An imprompt lump of ice!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I feared it was a bailiff, and</div>
<div class="i4">I sprang from off the sod!</div>
<div class="i0">"I'm but a ghost!" said he, "you need</div>
<div class="i4">Not start" said I "thank God!</div>
<div class="i0">"I must confess, that I eschew</div>
<div class="i4">A bailiff's companie,</div>
<div class="i0">"A ghost, is much more welcome, to</div>
<div class="i4">A person fixed like me."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Thus into swift acquaintanship,</div>
<div class="i4">Familiarly did glide,</div>
<div class="i0">The spook of Rotten Row, and I,</div>
<div class="i4">And walking side by side,</div>
<div class="i0">We chatted in a varied way,</div>
<div class="i4">And slowly sauntered round,</div>
<div class="i0">Until we came upon a lone,</div>
<div class="i4">And sparsy plot of ground,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Then halting there, the spectre cried,</div>
<div class="i4">In accents like a knell,</div>
<div class="i0">"T'was here I fought a duel once,</div>
<div class="i4">And there it was I fell!</div>
<div class="i0">Behold a thistle growing there,</div>
<div class="i4">And yon a shamrock too,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">And there in every season past,</div>
<div class="i4">A little wild rose grew,</div>
<div class="i0">A nursery in miniature,</div>
<div class="i4">Of sign of Kingdoms three,</div>
<div class="i0">That sprang spontaneous thro' the sod,</div>
<div class="i4">From blood, that flowed from me,</div>
<div class="i0">For lo! my sire was Rupert Smith,</div>
<div class="i4">My mater was a Lynch;</div>
<div class="i0">My grandmother per pater, was</div>
<div class="i4">A Flora Jane Mac Tinch,</div>
<div class="i0">An uncle, on the mother's side,</div>
<div class="i4">A Belfast Macinfee,</div>
<div class="i0">This made the union perfect,</div>
<div class="i4">And embodied thus in me,</div>
<div class="i0">Was typed the British Empire,</div>
<div class="i4">Per my consanguinitee.</div>
<div class="i0">And it's an interesting fact,</div>
<div class="i4">That Wales can share the fame,</div>
<div class="i0">And pride, of my nativity,</div>
<div class="i4">For, Jones, it was the name,</div>
<div class="i0">My mother first accepted, as</div>
<div class="i4">A matrimonial claim;</div>
<div class="i0">But Jones was testily inclined,</div>
<div class="i4">And all about a myth,</div>
<div class="i0">In jealous hate, he fell before</div>
<div class="i4">The blade, of Rupert Smith!</div>
<div class="i0">Then Rupert Smith, he minded of</div>
<div class="i4">The widow's wail, and tear,</div>
<div class="i0">And in remorse, he married her,</div>
<div class="i4">As consequence, I'm here!</div>
<div class="i0">The record of my gallant sire,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</SPAN></span>
<div class="i4">To hot complexion grew,</div>
<div class="i0">In me, till I was minded of</div>
<div class="i4">A cause, for fighting too.</div>
<div class="i0">I knew a maid, and for her sake,</div>
<div class="i4">My daily life was fuss,</div>
<div class="i0">It is not always for a maid,</div>
<div class="i4">A man's affected thus;</div>
<div class="i0">But when she wasn't by my side,</div>
<div class="i4">I felt how lonely, space</div>
<div class="i0">Would be, if man could not behold,</div>
<div class="i4">A single woman's face.</div>
<div class="i0">And so I fondled, petted her,</div>
<div class="i4">And worried, wrote some rhymes,</div>
<div class="i0">And even got them published, in</div>
<div class="i4">A small, suburban times,</div>
<div class="i0">I took some pestilential pains,</div>
<div class="i4">To learn the minuet,</div>
<div class="i0">And trained my voice, to harmonise,</div>
<div class="i4">With her's, in the duet.</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo099.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="201" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">We married were, I faith! it was</div>
<div class="i4">A festal day, for hope,</div>
<div class="i0">To care we gave the congè, and</div>
<div class="i4">To pleasure, extra scope,</div>
<div class="i0">Until one day, my joy was washed</div>
<div class="i4">Away, like scented soap!</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas on this wise,—</div>
<div class="i8">In Rotten Row,</div>
<div class="i4">Midst fashionable life,</div>
<div class="i0">I found a promenader there,</div>
<div class="i4">In converse, with my wife!</div>
<div class="i0">I parleyed not a moment, but</div>
<div class="i4">Asserting manhood's law,</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo100.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="120" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I tweaked him by the nose, and cried,</div>
<div class="i4">"Defend thyself and draw!"</div>
<div class="i0">Resenting my impetuous way,</div>
<div class="i4">The old command, to teach,</div>
<div class="i0">He roused him to impromptu fire,</div>
<div class="i4">Of indignation speech,</div>
<div class="i0">And with a sneer, that galled my quick,</div>
<div class="i4">He swore me, I must die!</div>
<div class="i0">But with a rough right royal oath,</div>
<div class="i4">I sneered him back the lie!</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">"Thy name?" quoth I, "I am," said he,</div>
<div class="i4">"A man of Deeds, and Loans,</div>
<div class="i8">And auction sales,</div>
<div class="i8">I come from Wales,</div>
<div class="i4">My name is Mervyn Jones!"</div>
<div class="i0">"What?</div>
<div class="i4">Mervyn Jones of Pontypridd?"</div>
<div class="i4">"Exactly so, the same,"</div>
<div class="i0">Said he,—I heard of him before,</div>
<div class="i4">And quivered at his name!</div>
<div class="i0">For 'twas the name, thro' which the world</div>
<div class="i4">Had come to hear of me,</div>
<div class="i0">By pruning blade of Smith, on Jones;</div>
<div class="i4">His genealogic tree,</div>
<div class="i0">"Yes I am Jones!"</div>
<div class="i0">Quoth he, "By loans,</div>
<div class="i4">And mortgaged, for her life,</div>
<div class="i0">Thro' debts to me, attorney's power,</div>
<div class="i4">I hold upon thy wife,</div>
<div class="i0">So skin thy blade, I'll give thee cause,</div>
<div class="i4">To tweak my nose!" he saith,</div>
<div class="i0">"I'll auction thee, unto the bid,</div>
<div class="i4">Of good old broker death!"—</div>
<div class="i0">Hereditary fate it seemed,</div>
<div class="i4">That I must fight with Jones,</div>
<div class="i0">I would have shirked it, but for those,</div>
<div class="i4">His irritating tones,</div>
<div class="i0">I feared a compensating fate,</div>
<div class="i4">Might strike an even deal,</div>
<div class="i0">Betwixt the house of Smith, and Jones,</div>
<div class="i4">But skinning forth my steel,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">I smote at him, by hip, and thigh,</div>
<div class="i4">By carte, and aye by tierce,</div>
<div class="i0">I held him to his guard, with quick,</div>
<div class="i4">Aggressive strokes, and fierce,</div>
<div class="i0">But lo! the cunning of my wrist,</div>
<div class="i4">A moment lapsed! with art</div>
<div class="i0">Of subtle fencer, past my guard,</div>
<div class="i4">He pinked me, in the heart!</div>
<div class="i0">It skivered me, just like the fork,</div>
<div class="i4">That spoils a grilling steak,</div>
<div class="i0">I shivered, with a yell, and then,</div>
<div class="i4">A woman's cry,—and crake</div>
<div class="i0">Of joy from him, with mighty pang,</div>
<div class="i4">I leaped in air, and fell!</div>
<div class="i0">A muffled music thrilled my brain;</div>
<div class="i4">For me, the passing knell,</div>
<div class="i0">From numbing toe, and finger tip,</div>
<div class="i4">The graduating thrill</div>
<div class="i0">Of life's collapse, crept over me,</div>
<div class="i4">I wriggled, and lay still!</div>
<div class="i0">Then, from the chrysolid of flesh,</div>
<div class="i4">Light spirited I rose,</div>
<div class="i0">And gazed upon my corse, as on</div>
<div class="i4">A suit of cast off clothes,</div>
<div class="i0">My widow shrieked, and fainted, but</div>
<div class="i4">A golden vinagarette,</div>
<div class="i0">My slayer lifted from his fob,</div>
<div class="i4">And to her nose, he set</div>
<div class="i0">The bauble, while he pinched her, slapped</div>
<div class="i4">Her hands, and brought her to,</div>
<div class="i0">Then speaking to my mortal wreck,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</SPAN></span>
<div class="i4">Said he, "Now as for you,</div>
<div class="i0">I have avenged the slur upon</div>
<div class="i4">My nose, thy tweak hath wrought,</div>
<div class="i0">Thou art the loser, in the game</div>
<div class="i4">Of combat, that thou sought,</div>
<div class="i0">But lo! thy widow, will not weep</div>
<div class="i4">It long, for I may say,</div>
<div class="i0">She'll shed her weeds, and she will wed</div>
<div class="i4">With me, the first of May!</div>
<div class="i0">Then, with my spouse upon his arm,</div>
<div class="i4">He turned, and sneaked away,</div>
<div class="i0">And left me here, a widowed ghost,</div>
<div class="i4">Aye, even to this day!"</div>
<div class="i0">My indignation at his wrongs,</div>
<div class="i4">I told the grateful spook:</div>
<div class="i0">"Gramercy!" cried he, as with misty</div>
<div class="i4">Fist, my hand he shook,</div>
<div class="i0">And charged me thus, with eager verve,</div>
<div class="i4">Of deep revengeful tones,</div>
<div class="i0">"If ever thou dost meet a man,</div>
<div class="i4">Who deals in deeds, and loans,</div>
<div class="i0">Who bears the patronymic, and</div>
<div class="i4">The shield, of Mervyn Jones,</div>
<div class="i0">I care not how, by forgery!</div>
<div class="i4">By fist, or aye by knife!</div>
<div class="i0">By sneaking of his fiancée,</div>
<div class="i4">Or mayhap of his wife!</div>
<div class="i0">By burgling of his premises,</div>
<div class="i4">Or pelting him with stones!</div>
<div class="i0">Avenge me, on the offspring, of</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</SPAN></span><div class="i4">The man, called Mervyn Jones!"</div>
<div class="i0">I sware him, if such christened man,</div>
<div class="i4">Did ever dare my sight,</div>
<div class="i0">In widest open day, or from</div>
<div class="i4">The nooks, of darkest night!</div>
<div class="i0">It mattered not, if extra tall,</div>
<div class="i4">Or what his weight, or width,</div>
<div class="i0"><em>I'd borrow from him</em>, to avenge</div>
<div class="i4">The wrongs, of Rupert Smith!</div>
<div class="i0">"I thank thee well!" the spectre cried,</div>
<div class="i4">With chuckle, sad, and grim,</div>
<div class="i0">"Adieu!"</div>
<div class="i2">And lo! he vanished thro'</div>
<div class="i4">The hazy gloaming dim:</div>
<div class="i0">He vanished, and I thanked my luck,</div>
<div class="i4">He left no aching bones!</div>
<div class="i0">For I'm a male descendant, of</div>
<div class="i4">The man, called Mervyn Jones!</div>
<div class="i0">And Mervyn, haps my christian name,</div>
<div class="i4">A broker, I am he,</div>
<div class="i0">A windfall fructifaction, of</div>
<div class="i4">That genealogic tree.</div>
</div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Next evening, when I told this tale,</div>
<div class="i4">To Doctor Bolus Chuff,</div>
<div class="i0">Incredulous, and unimpressed,</div>
<div class="i4">With mien, erect, and tough,</div>
<div class="i0">Presenting a prescription, for</div>
<div class="i4">Some tonic tempered pills,</div>
<div class="i0">Said he "Thro' too much spirits, you</div>
<div class="i4">Have got D.T.'s and chills!"</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="THE_MAGIC_SPECS" id="THE_MAGIC_SPECS">THE MAGIC SPECS</SPAN></h2>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<ANTIMG src="images/illo105.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="242" alt="The Magic Specs" />
<div class="i12"><span class="hide">He</span> WROUGHT a specs, with magic rim, of strange, and subtle parts,</div>
<div class="i0">For by those optics made by him, he saw men's inmost hearts,</div>
<div class="i0">The grim old sage, 'twas of his fads, to wear those wrysome lamps,</div>
<div class="i0">For evermore, and find the lads, the worldly-wise, and scamps.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He saw the plottings, and the strife, he saw the woes, and tears!</div>
<div class="i0">The murky glooms of unknown life, the spring of hopes, and fears,</div>
<div class="i0">The sham of face, the sham of name, the sham of heart within;</div>
<div class="i0">He sifted all, and wrote for fame, record of unknown sin.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Ho, ho!" cried he at length, "I wis, the dross of men is such,</div>
<div class="i0">'Tis surfeit, thus to seek for this, it palls me overmuch;</div>
<div class="i0">I'll seek a gem of human hearts, and find it, if I can,"—</div>
<div class="i0">He sought at home, and foreign parts, to meet an honest man.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">In that pursuit, a year and seven, did on his labours fall;</div>
<div class="i0">"Heigho!" cried he, "outside of Heaven, they're masks, and faces all!</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</SPAN></span><div class="i0">They're masks, and faces all!" quoth he, and from the world he went</div>
<div class="i0">To bide alone, beside the sea, in selfish self-content.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Now, this old sage, thro' many a year, had never thought of self,</div>
<div class="i0">Before he used the specs: in fear, his mirror, on a shelf,</div>
<div class="i0">He set, with face down evermore, lest by a glance, that he</div>
<div class="i0">Should pry into the evil store, of his own villainie.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">But, fishing in a pool one day, the sage forgot his specs—</div>
<div class="i0">To take it from his nose,—and hey! a horror, to perplex</div>
<div class="i0">His soul with fear, was under him; for, in the glassy wave,</div>
<div class="i0">He saw his heart reflected grim! he saw his new-made grave:</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He saw, that he himself was worst, of all that he had seen;</div>
<div class="i0">By sight of conscience, he was curst, the evil deeds, had been</div>
<div class="i0">Dry rotting in his blackened heart, the place he feared to search,</div>
<div class="i0">And self-reproach, did send a dart, that knocked him off his perch;</div>
<div class="i0">The rod and line, fell from his hand, the specs fell off his nose:</div>
<div class="i0">And he was drowned, in sight of land, in all his Sunday clothes.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo106.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="119" alt="illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="Ye_Curious_Tayle_of_Ye_Uncivil_Fight_of_Ye_Civil_Warre"></SPAN>YE CURIOUS TAYLE OF YE UNCIVIL FIGHT OF YE CIVIL WARRE</h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo107.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="346" alt="Ye Curious Tayle of Ye Uncivil Fight of Ye Civil Warre." /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">O</div>DDZOOKS! ye civil war was rough,</div>
<div class="i2">'Twixt cavalier, and roundhead tough,</div>
<div class="i10">Thence, for thy pale</div>
<div class="i10">Of cheek, and wail,</div>
<div class="i0">Now hearken, to ye curious tayle,</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i12">Ah! me.</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img108.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="383" alt="Ye Fanatick Fytte" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">T</div>HEY met, to meet, was cause for strife</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_96" id="Page_96">96</SPAN></span>
<div class="i2">And hunger, for each other's life!</div>
<div class="i10">Alack ah! me,</div>
<div class="i10">That such should be,</div>
<div class="i0">Where posies, pied beneath ye tree,</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i12">Ah! me.</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img109.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="374" alt="Ye Fytte of ye Blude Thurst" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">I</div>N derring do, they straightway play,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</SPAN></span>
<div class="i2">And cut, and slash, ye time away;</div>
<div class="i10">Ye evil grue,</div>
<div class="i10">This derring do,</div>
<div class="i0">When earth, was wide enough for two,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i12">Ah! me.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">L</div>O! one at length, in bonds did pine,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_98" id="Page_98">98</SPAN></span>
<div class="i2">Ye squirrel came, and nipped ye twine;</div>
<div class="i10">Reproof of spite,</div>
<div class="i10">From woodland mite,</div>
<div class="i2">For truce to ye fanatic fight,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i12">Ah! me.</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img110.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="353" alt="Ye Refreshment Fytte" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">B</div>UT hey alack! again they rise,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_99" id="Page_99">99</SPAN></span>
<div class="i2">And swish their blades, in murderous wise;</div>
<div class="i10">'Tis pain, to sing,</div>
<div class="i10">Of sword, in swing,</div>
<div class="i0">Where butterflies, did spread ye wing,</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i12">Ah! me.</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img111.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="354" alt="Ye Fytte of ye Seconde Bout." /></div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img112.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="341" alt="Ye Retaliation Fytte." /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">A</div>T length, one trussed his foe, but lo!</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_100" id="Page_100">100</SPAN></span>
<div class="i2">A bat, did cut ye cord, ho! ho!</div>
<div class="i10">Ye moral flat,</div>
<div class="i10">Of gracious bat,</div>
<div class="i0">That men, should drop ye hate, like that—</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i12">Ah! me.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">Y</div>E wrath of wrong, is still to do,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</SPAN></span>
<div class="i2">Ye loathsome vengeance, starts anew,</div>
<div class="i10">O pity! wrong,</div>
<div class="i10">Should wreak so strong,</div>
<div class="i0">Where birds, did pipe ye evensong,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i12">Ah! me.</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img113.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="398" alt="Ye Nervous Fytte." /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">Y</div>E strife waxed hot, in air they spring,—</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</SPAN></span>
<div class="i2">No fiercer fray, did minstrel sing,—</div>
<div class="i10">But why spill here,</div>
<div class="i10">Ye tender tear,</div>
<div class="i0">For Roundhead, or ye Cavalier?</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i12">Ah! me.</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img114.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="354" alt="Ye Fytte of Ye Timely Spring." /></div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img115.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="377" alt="Ye Fytte of Ye Discovery." /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">T</div>HEY scuffle, till each wig, and nose,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_103" id="Page_103">103</SPAN></span>
<div class="i2">Fell off, and nature's truths, disclose,</div>
<div class="i10">Ye wild surprise,</div>
<div class="i10">Doth swiftly rise,</div>
<div class="i0">Ye brows, above ye startled eyes!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i12">Ah! me.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">F</div>OR lo! they recognise each one,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</SPAN></span>
<div class="i2">Each was his father's other son!</div>
<div class="i10">Ye clasping spree,</div>
<div class="i10">Of filial glee,</div>
<div class="i0">Is here depicted, as you see,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i12">Ah! me.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img116.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="416" alt="Ye Fraternal Fytte." /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="Leather_Versus" id="Leather_Versus">LEATHER VERSUS LAW</SPAN></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo117a.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="233" alt="Leather versus" /></div>
<p class="prose">AN instance of calculating foresight and
prudence is illustrated in the following
verses. If men would rely on the mutual
study of a spirit of equity, and enter more confidentially into the
claims of each, what beautiful pictures, of repentant resignation to a
just castigation, would be afforded, by certain of those who misunderstand
the rights of property. An excellent lesson of this kind, is taught
by the experience of the first tramp. He parted from the Farmer, with
comprehensive impressions, of the farmer's energy, and application to
business, a fact, which he took the earliest opportunity, of advertising in
the nearest hospital. Thro' the second case, also runs a beautiful lesson,
to the farmer, it may not have happed so well, as to the tramp, but the
record serves to show, that an action at law, should only result, as a
mutual alternative, agreeable to both parties; thereby the air of the Law
Courts, would be considerably purified, of the stuffiness, that oppresses the
impetuous litigant.</p>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo117b.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="306" alt="Law" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">S</div>AID one tramp, to the second tramp,</div>
<div class="i0">
"The dark is comin' on the sun,</div>
<div class="i0">Do you prowl in to this 'ere barn.</div>
<div class="i8">And I'll dodge on to yonder one.</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">"I allus likes to sleep alone,</div>
<div class="i8">Besides you see, it runs' em tight,</div>
<div class="i0">The Varmers, when a pair o' tramps</div>
<div class="i8">Turns up, so Bill, I'll say good night."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">The chanticleer, did early trump,</div>
<div class="i8">A tonic note, upon his pipe,</div>
<div class="i0">And woke the husbandman, to view,</div>
<div class="i8">How thick, and tall, his crops, and ripe.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">And in his barn, he found a tramp!</div>
<div class="i8">"Ho, trespasser, what shall I do?"</div>
<div class="i0">He cried "Shall I evict by Law?</div>
<div class="i8">Or take the Law myself, on you?"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Well Varmer, I have had with cranks,</div>
<div class="i8">Of legal jaw, too much," said he,</div>
<div class="i0">"So with your leave, I'd rather you,</div>
<div class="i8">Would take the law, yourself on me."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Ha! that's exactly to my form!"</div>
<div class="i8">He gripped him by the neck, "Here goes!</div>
<div class="i0">Whew! now take this! and that, and this,"</div>
<div class="i8">With that, he gave him all his toes.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He kicked him, thro' the barn door,</div>
<div class="i8">He rolled him, in the grunty stye,</div>
<div class="i0">And up, and down, and round the yard,</div>
<div class="i8">And then, he bunged him in the eye!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_107" id="Page_107">107</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">He ducked him, in the horses' pond,</div>
<div class="i8">He slung him, right across a load</div>
<div class="i0">Of dung, he kicked him thro' the gate,</div>
<div class="i8">And wiped him up and down the road!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He kicked him black! He kicked him blue!</div>
<div class="i8">He kicked him green! and red and white!</div>
<div class="i0">He kicked him, till he could not kick,</div>
<div class="i8">For then the tramp was out of sight!</div>
</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo119.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="353" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
That tramp did never more appear</div>
<div class="i8">Around that neighbourhood, he passed</div>
<div class="i0">Away, just like a whiff of smoke,</div>
<div class="i8">That scuds before the autumn blast!</div>
</div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">A second husbandman that morn,</div>
<div class="i8">Was quick astir, he fancied he</div>
<div class="i0">Did hear, a wailing in his barn,</div>
<div class="i8">A moan, as of the wild banshee!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He thought to catch the female sprite,</div>
<div class="i8">For truth, he was a festive scamp,</div>
<div class="i0">But got a sort of snub, when he,</div>
<div class="i8">Discovered but a snoring tramp!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">The sleep was deep, for with his foot,</div>
<div class="i8">He had to supplement the blow,</div>
<div class="i0">Or box, he gave him on his ear,</div>
<div class="i8">And shouted in that ear "Hello!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">You'll pardon me, my friend, but 'ere,</div>
<div class="i8">I thought, this barn belonged to me!</div>
<div class="i0">Now shall I chuck you out myself,</div>
<div class="i8">Or seek injunct, from Chancerie?"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">The startled tramp, did rub his nose,</div>
<div class="i8">And stared that farmer, in the eye,</div>
<div class="i0">Then stretched himself, and spoke as he,</div>
<div class="i8">Would fain enjoy a longer lie.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Well Boss, I've been so often chucked,</div>
<div class="i8">That it would be relief to stay,</div>
<div class="i0">And in the Court of Chancerie,</div>
<div class="i8">Arrange it in a friendly way."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">They took the case to chancerie,</div>
<div class="i8">And argued it, from every point,</div>
<div class="i0">But in the end, they always found,</div>
<div class="i8">The arguments, were out of joint!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">The prosecuting counsel, cranked</div>
<div class="i8">The cogs of all the tramp's defence,</div>
<div class="i0">And also in his turn, was spanked,</div>
<div class="i8">And thus, they cribbed the farmer's pence.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">They argued it, on every side,</div>
<div class="i8">With judge's whim, and lawyer's yarn.</div>
<div class="i0">But still the tramp, remains at home,</div>
<div class="i8">His home, is in the farmer's barn!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">The case, has not been ended yet,</div>
<div class="i8">It crops up now, and often then,</div>
<div class="i0">You cannot tell, when it may crop,</div>
<div class="i8">It might crop up, next week again,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">But when that tramp, will have to go,</div>
<div class="i8">I cannot tell it, nor can he,</div>
<div class="i0">The farmer cannot, nor can they;</div>
<div class="i8">The lawyers of the Chancerie.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Thus tho' we may not take the law,</div>
<div class="i8">Into our hands, it's often meet,</div>
<div class="i0">To serve extemporaneous writ</div>
<div class="i8">By sharp eviction, from the feet.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo121.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="235" alt="illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="HEADS_AND_TAILS" id="HEADS_AND_TAILS">HEADS AND TAILS</SPAN></h2>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo122.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="164" alt="Heads and Tails" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo122a.jpg" width-obs="111" height-obs="100" alt="T" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
WAS in the Daisy Bell,</div>
<div class="i6">I met him, quite a swell,</div>
<div class="i6">His style, was very taking, and off hand,</div>
<div class="i6">"No thanks!" said he "I think</div>
<div class="i0">We'll toss up, for the drink,</div>
<div class="i6">I'm independent, as there's in the land!"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I tossed him, and I lost,</div>
<div class="i0">Said he "That was a frost,</div>
<div class="i6">I'll toss you now, a consolation toss,</div>
<div class="i0">I'll toss you, for a bob"</div>
<div class="i0">I lost! "I wouldn't rob"</div>
<div class="i6">Said he "I wouldn't see you, at a loss.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"By gum! here's what I'll do,</div>
<div class="i0">I'll toss you now for two,</div>
<div class="i6">It's double now, or quits, that we will try,"</div>
<div class="i0">Again I lost; 'twas queer,</div>
<div class="i0">Again, said he, "look here,</div>
<div class="i6">Your fortune, will be lifting by and by."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I thought that it must turn,</div>
<div class="i0">But soon I had to learn,</div>
<div class="i6">His way was rather taking, and off hand,</div>
<div class="i0">A goodly sum was due,</div>
<div class="i0">Said he "I've made off you,</div>
<div class="i6">Six quid, and sixteen tanners, you will stand,"</div>
<div class="i0">"Your double coin," said I,</div>
<div class="i0">"Has just now caught my eye,</div>
<div class="i6">And the dust, from your jacket, I must whack!"</div>
<div class="i6">His jacket, with malacca, I did crack!</div>
<div class="i6">His hide, was very taking, at the back!</div>
</div></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="The_Colonel_and_the_Cook" id="The_Colonel_and_the_Cook">THE COLONEL AND THE COOK</SPAN></h2>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo123.jpg" width-obs="494" height-obs="401" alt="The Colonel and the Cook" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo123a.jpg" width-obs="139" height-obs="147" alt="Oh" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="begin">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
COLONEL I could love you,</div>
<div class="i10">With faithful heart," said she;</div>
<div class="i6">"But you are far too noble—</div>
<div class="i6">Too grand a man for me,</div>
<div class="i0">For you're Commander of the Horse,</div>
<div class="i6">And hardly could be higher,</div>
<div class="i0">While, I am only just a Cook,</div>
<div class="i6">Around the kitchen fire."</div>
</div></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Said she "I could not marry you,</div>
<div class="i6">For you are all so grand;</div>
<div class="i0">I'd be a most unhappy wife—</div>
<div class="i6">The saddest in the land."</div>
<div class="i0">Said he, "I did not ask you;</div>
<div class="i6">But when I'm far from you,</div>
<div class="i0">And on the field of battle,</div>
<div class="i6">I'll see what I can do."</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_112" id="Page_112">112</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">Said he, "I never thought of it,</div>
<div class="i6">And only now, I see—</div>
<div class="i0">Perhaps you are the woman,</div>
<div class="i6">Would suit to wed with me,</div>
<div class="i0">And that is just the cause of them—</div>
<div class="i6">The words, I said to you—</div>
<div class="i0">When on the field of battle,</div>
<div class="i6">I'll see what I can do."</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo124.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="266" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">The town, was all in tumult</div>
<div class="i6">Of women's wail alack!</div>
<div class="i0">For many a gallant soldier,</div>
<div class="i6">Would never more come back,</div>
<div class="i0">And even he (the Colonel)</div>
<div class="i6">Might fall—the first or last;</div>
<div class="i0">And that's the chiefest reason,</div>
<div class="i6">That Cook was weeping fast.</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_113" id="Page_113">113</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">And tho' it was not proper,</div>
<div class="i6">To see the Colonel, look</div>
<div class="i0">With visage of dejection,</div>
<div class="i6">Upon a humble cook,</div>
<div class="i0">Yet nature won't be cheated,</div>
<div class="i6">Despite of high degree.</div>
<div class="i0">"Adieu; I'll come back worthy,</div>
<div class="i6">My love, to wed with thee."</div>
<div class="i0">And that is how they parted,</div>
<div class="i6">And those, the words he said:</div>
<div class="i0">And oft, when she was cooking,</div>
<div class="i6">It came into her head,</div>
<div class="i0">The promise he had uttered,</div>
<div class="i6">Of sweetest memory—</div>
<div class="i0">"Adieu; I'll come back worthy,</div>
<div class="i6">My love, to wed with thee."</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo125.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="257" alt="as This Peeves me now at Present" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">She took a thought one morning,</div>
<div class="i6">And bought a copy-book;</div>
<div class="i0">Said she, I'll study pothooks,</div>
<div class="i6">They're suited for a cook.</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_114" id="Page_114">114</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">I'll write his name, in roundhand,</div>
<div class="i6">A letter, I will send,</div>
<div class="i0">With the words "no more at present"—</div>
<div class="i6">My pet name, at the end.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">She wrote his name, in roundhand,</div>
<div class="i6">A letter, she did send,</div>
<div class="i0">With "No more now at present,"</div>
<div class="i6">Her pet name, at the end.</div>
<div class="i0">But it never, never reached him,</div>
<div class="i6">And he did languish yet,</div>
<div class="i0">For the Cook, at home in Erin</div>
<div class="i6">He never could forget.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">But lo! a taste for learning,</div>
<div class="i6">Is like a taste for drink,</div>
<div class="i0">While working on the pothooks,</div>
<div class="i6">She then began to think.</div>
<div class="i0">And thought, is like a snowball,</div>
<div class="i6">That gathers every turn;</div>
<div class="i0">She studied read-'em-easys,</div>
<div class="i6">While joints began to burn.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">She studied, night and morning,</div>
<div class="i6">At languages, and paint,</div>
<div class="i0">At poetry, and musty prose,</div>
<div class="i6">And legends, old, and quaint.</div>
<div class="i0">She wrote a three-vol. novel,</div>
<div class="i6">And got a fancy price,</div>
<div class="i0">Became a photo beauty;</div>
<div class="i6">"Oh, this," quoth she, "is nice!"</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_115" id="Page_115">115</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">She then appeared in drama,</div>
<div class="i6">While posing there, with grace</div>
<div class="i0">Of gauze, and limelight glowing</div>
<div class="i6">Upon her lovely face;</div>
<div class="i0">A common soldier, shouted</div>
<div class="i6">From the Olympian rail—</div>
<div class="i0">"O 'evans!" its my 'Arriet,</div>
<div class="i6">And turning deadly pale.</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo127.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="291" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="i0">
He darted for the stage door,</div>
<div class="i0">Her carriage grand, was there,</div>
<div class="i0">She was about to enter,</div>
<div class="i0">With all the fuss, and flare,</div>
<div class="i0">Of mashers buzzing round her;</div>
<div class="i0">And plunging forth, said he—</div>
<div class="i0">"I'm wot was once a Colonel, who went across the sea.</div>
<div class="i6">"Of course you must remember,</div>
<div class="i10">The words, I said to you—</div>
<div class="i6">'When on the field of battle,</div>
<div class="i10">I'd see what I could do.'</div>
<div class="i6">I never make a promise,</div>
<div class="i10">But to my word, I stick.</div>
<div class="i6">The man, who breaks his promise,</div>
<div class="i10">Is but a broken brick."</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_116" id="Page_116">116</SPAN></span>
<div class="i6">I'm wot was once a Colonel,</div>
<div class="i10">And for your love, I strove,</div>
<div class="i6">To be reduced, into the ranks,</div>
<div class="i10">For sake of you, my love;</div>
<div class="i0">I ran away in battle, I several times got drunk,</div>
<div class="i0">Was challenged to a duel, and purposely took funk.</div>
<div class="i0">They whittled my commission, into a major's rank,</div>
<div class="i0">And still I acted badly, and several times I drank,</div>
<div class="i0">I managed to get nibbled, down to a sergeant then</div>
<div class="i0">I stole a pint of whiskey, was put amongst the men.</div>
</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo128.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="246" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
"I've been all over Europe,</div>
<div class="i0">A lookin' out for you,</div>
<div class="i0">I have eschewed my grammar,</div>
<div class="i0">To prove my 'eart, was true;</div>
<div class="i0">I've parted with my surname,</div>
<div class="i0">That all might well combine,</div>
<div class="i0">Which now, I'm Private Miggins, of the Seventy-seventh Line.</div>
<div class="i6">"I've got a vulgar accent,</div>
<div class="i10">And vulgar sayin's too.</div>
<div class="i6">I drink, from common pewter.</div>
<div class="i10">It's all along of you,</div>
<div class="i6">And generally, my manners,</div>
<div class="i10">Are much about the styles,</div>
<div class="i6">You'll find amongst the manners,</div>
<div class="i10">Of the people of St. Giles.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">"But here, I say, look, listen!</div>
<div class="i5">You have not acted straight,</div>
<div class="i0">But made us yet the victims,</div>
<div class="i5">Of a lobsided fate;</div>
<div class="i0">While I've been levellin' downwards,</div>
<div class="i5">To suit with your degree,</div>
<div class="i0">You've been, and gone, and levelled up,</div>
<div class="i5">Contrarywise to me.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"You had not ought to take me,</div>
<div class="i5">So short as this, I say;</div>
<div class="i0">You've worked a mean advantage,</div>
<div class="i5">While I was far away.</div>
<div class="i0">But still, we'll go to-morrow,</div>
<div class="i5">And make our love complete."</div>
<div class="i0">"Get out!" she cried, and vanished,</div>
<div class="i5">In her brougham, down the street.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo129.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="222" alt="illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="The_Spirit_that_held_Him_Down"></SPAN>THE SPIRIT THAT HELD HIM DOWN</h2>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo130.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="454" alt="The spirit that held him down" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">H</div>E was one of the middle age men I wot,</div>
<div class="i0">A troubadour bedight,</div>
<div class="i0">Who lost himself, in a lonely wood,</div>
<div class="i2">An exceptional sort of night,</div>
<div class="i6">For the moon, was only beginning to wax,</div>
<div class="i10">And the clouds, were muggy, and black,</div>
<div class="i6">And there wasn't much chance, of finding his way,</div>
<div class="i10">To the trail, of the beaten track.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i6">But troubadours, were stout and strong,</div>
<div class="i10">Of tough, and stubborn, stuff,</div>
<div class="i6">And took the rough, with the sleek, and smooth,</div>
<div class="i10">The smooth, with the rusty rough,</div>
<div class="i6">So up thro' the drift, of the hummocky ruck,</div>
<div class="i10">Of the clouds, he searched for a star,</div>
<div class="i6">To serenade, with the thringumy-thrang,</div>
<div class="i10">Of the thrum, of his new guitar.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_119" id="Page_119">119</SPAN></span>
<div class="i6">The glint of one, thro' a galloping cloud,</div>
<div class="i10">He caught, and he screwed his wire,</div>
<div class="i6">And gave a twist, to its patent head,</div>
<div class="i10">And toned the catgut higher.</div>
<div class="i6">Then flung the cape of his cloak aside,</div>
<div class="i10">And in an æsthetic strain,</div>
<div class="i6">He pitched his voice, to the concert key,</div>
<div class="i10">And twanged on the strings amain.</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo131.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="169" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
But having expressed himself in song,</div>
<div class="i6">With a quivering verse or two,</div>
<div class="i6">His favourite string gave out, with a bang,</div>
<div class="i6">And stopped his impromptu.</div>
<div class="i6">He muttered a satire upon that string,</div>
<div class="i10">And sat on a bank, close by,</div>
<div class="i6">When he heard the trip of a female foot,</div>
<div class="i10">And lisp of a female sigh!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i6">She was one of the guardians, of the piece</div>
<div class="i10">Of ground, that was round him there,</div>
<div class="i6">An ariel spirit in azure blue,</div>
<div class="i10">And fluffs of auburn hair,</div>
<div class="i6">That framed a very attractive face,</div>
<div class="i10">Of cream, and strawberry pink,</div>
<div class="i6">And she greeted the troubadour bedight,</div>
<div class="i10">With a captivating wink!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_120" id="Page_120">120</SPAN></span>
<div class="i6">"O troubadour, what brings you here,</div>
<div class="i10">So lone and sad?" said she,</div>
<div class="i6">Just throw your guitar across your back,</div>
<div class="i10">And wander away with me.</div>
<div class="i6">I'll show you the fairy dells, of mine,</div>
<div class="i10">All tricked around with sheen,</div>
<div class="i6">Of glittering gold, and sparkling gems,</div>
<div class="i10">With electric lights between.</div>
</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo132.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="250" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"I'm a single woman, and never was once</div>
<div class="i0">In love, with a man, till this!"</div>
<div class="i0">And then she stooped to his quivering lip,</div>
<div class="i0">Imprinting a dainty kiss.</div>
<div class="i0">"Why don't you get up out of that?" she cried,</div>
<div class="i0">And make no longer stay.</div>
<div class="i0">But a spirit within, still held him down,</div>
<div class="i0">In a magical sort of way.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i6">"O troubadour, you're a suitable man,</div>
<div class="i10">To live in the woods with me,</div>
<div class="i6">We'll dance to the charms of elphin song,</div>
<div class="i10">Down under the greenwood tree."</div>
<div class="i6">And she coaxed him again, with a dainty kiss,</div>
<div class="i10">"Oh, sweetheart, come, be gay!"</div>
<div class="i6">But a spirit within, still held him down,</div>
<div class="i10">In a magical sort of way.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_121" id="Page_121">121</SPAN></span>
<div class="i6">"I hope, that you don't imagine," said she,</div>
<div class="i10">"That I am a frivolous flirt,</div>
<div class="i6">I'm the woman, that's new, the fashion to-day,</div>
<div class="i10">With rational trunks, for skirt,</div>
<div class="i6">I can ride, on a bicycle, made for two,</div>
<div class="i10">Or 'tec out the sins of town,"</div>
<div class="i6">But all he could do, was give her a grin,</div>
<div class="i10">From the spirit that held him down!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i6">He'd have given the world, to get up out of that,</div>
<div class="i10">But a tantalising sprite,</div>
<div class="i6">Had taken possession of him, you see,</div>
<div class="i10">In the early part of the night.</div>
<div class="i6">The fact of it is, that he couldn't get up,</div>
<div class="i10">If she gave him a kingly crown,</div>
<div class="i6">And all he could do, was give her a grin,</div>
<div class="i10">From the spirit, that held him down!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i6">Twas woe! to see an attractive maid,</div>
<div class="i10">So slurred, by a knightly bard,</div>
<div class="i6">A misery this, for her plaint of love,</div>
<div class="i10">To be grinned at, snubbed, and marred!</div>
<div class="i6">Yet ever again, did she give him a kiss,</div>
<div class="i2">And a lingering, coaxing smile,</div>
<div class="i6">But the spirit within, still held him down,</div>
<div class="i10">In a magical sort of style!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i6">"O come get up out of that!" she cried,</div>
<div class="i10">And gave his collar a shake,</div>
<div class="i6">With a kick in the ribs, that bustled him up,</div>
<div class="i10">And startled him wide awake!</div>
<div class="i6">And her raiment shrunk to the belted blue,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_122" id="Page_122">122</SPAN></span>
<div class="i10">Of a burly man, said he,</div>
<div class="i6">"Yer out very late, in a dress like that,</div>
<div class="i10">So track it along with me."</div>
<div class="i6">"Get up out of that," the constable cried,</div>
<div class="i10">"And don't make no delay,"</div>
<div class="i6">But the spirit within, still held him down,</div>
<div class="i10">In a magical sort of way.</div>
<div class="i6">The spirit within, still held him down,</div>
<div class="i10">But the constable bent his back,</div>
<div class="i6">And hooshed him up, and carried him off,</div>
<div class="i10">At once to the beaten track.</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo134.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="206" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i6">The troubadour, came into the dock</div>
<div class="i10">Next day, in a crowded court,</div>
<div class="i6">And the rig of his garb, to the modern herd,</div>
<div class="i10">Was a source of evil sport.</div>
<div class="i6">But the modern beak had no romance,</div>
<div class="i10">And the sum of a couple of crown,</div>
<div class="i6">He fined the unfortunate troubadour,</div>
<div class="i10">For the spirit that held him down!</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="HIS_FUTURE_STATE" id="HIS_FUTURE_STATE">HIS FUTURE STATE.</SPAN></h2>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">I</div> FOUND him, sitting on a seat,</div>
<div class="i8">With sad reflective mien,</div>
<div class="i0">A drowsing pathos, in his eye,</div>
<div class="i8">Tinged with a tint of green,</div>
<div class="i0">I sat him by "good friend" I said,</div>
<div class="i8">"Of pilgrims, the resort,</div>
<div class="i0">Is this a church?" "I wish it wor!"</div>
<div class="i8">Cried he, "It's Bow Street Court!"</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo135.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="323" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">And then again, I looked at him,</div>
<div class="i8">Once more, I spoke him kind,</div>
<div class="i0">"Thy far off gaze, doth indicate,</div>
<div class="i8">Some presence, on thy mind,</div>
<div class="i0">Some haunting thought, of grave import,</div>
<div class="i10">Connected with the fate,</div>
<div class="i0">Perchance, that thou, mayhap, may meet,</div>
<div class="i8">When in the future state.</div>
<div class="i0">O speak the burden of thy heart,</div>
<div class="i8">That I may note it down,"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"It be's I was a boozin', and</div>
<div class="i8">I'm fined a quid and crown,</div>
<div class="i0">My far off look, is for that fine,</div>
<div class="i8">To dodge the prison gate,</div>
<div class="i0">And warders' lock on fourteen days,</div>
<div class="i8">That quads my future state.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="A_FIGHT_IN_THE_PHOENIX_PARK" id="A_FIGHT_IN_THE_PHOENIX_PARK">A FIGHT IN THE PHŒNIX PARK</SPAN></h2>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_124" id="Page_124">124</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img1361.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="176" alt="A Fight in the" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
<ANTIMG src="images/img136.jpg" width-obs="50" height-obs="52" alt="A" />
MOST attractive lady, of middle class degree,</div>
<div class="i0">When in the Ranelagh Gardens, was thus addressed, as she</div>
<div class="i0">Beheld a man, she jilted, "Theresa Mary Jane,</div>
<div class="i0">You didn't think to see me back in town, so soon again;</div>
<div class="i0">It's most exasperating, that when my back I turn</div>
<div class="i0">You pace the Ranelagh Gardens, with cotton-ball O'Byrne."</div>
<div class="i0">The linen draper started, and with indignant shout,</div>
<div class="i0">Said he, "She loves me only, you ferule-fingered lout,</div>
<div class="i0">Your time you're only wasting, so take a thought, and spurn,</div>
<div class="i0">The idle hopes, that lure ye," said Mister Pat O'Byrne.</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img136b.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="204" alt="phoenix park" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Just then up came a stranger, with bending courtesy,</div>
<div class="i0">He doffed his triple tilted, "Good-night, mam'selle," said he,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_125" id="Page_125">125</SPAN></span><div class="i0">Then turning to O'Gorman, and then, to Pat O'Byrne,</div>
<div class="i0">"Ze manners of ze shentlemans, ze both of you should learn;</div>
<div class="i0">To wrangle round ze lady, I'm shames of you, by dam!</div>
<div class="i0">If ye don't know ze fencin' of ze duel, go, and cram,</div>
<div class="i0">Don't bring ze crowds around her, but mit ze mornin' lark,</div>
<div class="i0">Vash out in blood, ze quarrels all in ze Phœnix Park."</div>
<div class="i0">"I'm on," said Kit O'Gorman. "Begor, an' so am I,"</div>
<div class="i0">Said Pat O'Byrne. The lady, then gave a tender sigh,</div>
<div class="i0">She told them each, she loved him, and though her heart did bleed,</div>
<div class="i0">Expressed a wish, he'd combat on a small Arabian steed.</div>
<div class="i0">"The duel's getting prosy, invest it with a fling</div>
<div class="i0">Of tournamental glory, you'll find it's now the thing,</div>
<div class="i0">To gild, with knightly glamour, your daring feat of strife,</div>
<div class="i0">And he who kills the other, I'll be his wedded wife;</div>
<div class="i0">Till then I'm Queen of beauty," so spake that lady fair,</div>
<div class="i0">"I give you both a fortnight, that each may well prepare,</div>
<div class="i0">And then I'll send you chargers, on which to combat so"</div>
<div class="i0">(Her father dealt in horses), "now, sirs, good-night, and go."</div>
<div class="i0">The fix was fraught with danger, for each of those two men,</div>
<div class="i0">Existence is too precious, man can't be born again;</div>
<div class="i0">They ne'er had used a weapon, they never strode a horse,</div>
<div class="i0">It was extremely awkward, and couldn't well be worse.</div>
<div class="i0">So while O'Gorman practised with foil, and mask. O'Byrne,</div>
<div class="i0">Was in a circus riding, and then he took his turn,</div>
<div class="i0">Before a fencing-master, to guard, and thrust, and fool,</div>
<div class="i0">While Pat O'Gorman, cantered around a riding school.</div>
<div class="i0">At length the fencing-master, he says to Pat O'Byrne,</div>
<div class="i0">"You're perfect mit ze fencing, you've nodings more to learn."</div>
<div class="i0">The man who taught him riding, did compliment him too,</div>
<div class="i0">And Kit O'Gorman also had "nodings" more to do.</div>
</div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_126" id="Page_126">126</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">The fortnight was now over, the morning came at last,</div>
<div class="i0">The rising dawn, was ushered with snow, and biting blast,</div>
<div class="i0">As on the Fifteen Acres, all in the Phœnix Park,</div>
<div class="i0">The duellists were waiting the Arab steeds, when, hark!</div>
<div class="i0">They heard a distant braying, as 'twere a trump of brass,</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas followed by a donkey, and then a second ass,</div>
<div class="i0">Came guided by his halter, unto the fated spot,</div>
<div class="i0">Said Pat O'Byrne and O'Gorman, "O, powdhers, this is rot!"</div>
<div class="i0">But yet a queen of beauty was their's the prize to win.</div>
<div class="i0">"We better pause no longer, but instantly pitch in,"</div>
<div class="i0">Said Pat O'Byrne, and Gorman. They tossed for choice of ass,</div>
<div class="i0">And pick of blade, then wheeling, they faced upon the grass.</div>
<div class="i0">I was for Kit O'Gorman a second on that day,</div>
<div class="i0">To see the flashing rapiers, to hear the donkeys bray</div>
<div class="i0">Was sight and sound to think of, the sylvan haunts were rife</div>
<div class="i0">With echoes reverbrated from crash of deadly strife;</div>
<div class="i0">Up went each donkey backwards, while scintillating wales</div>
<div class="i0">Of flashing steels, were echoed, by lashing of their tails,</div>
<div class="i0">For lo! the fight was doubled, the skittish donkeys sought,</div>
<div class="i0">To variegate the contest, and capered round, and fought;</div>
<div class="i0">They gave no chance. The foemen, with awkward clink of steels,</div>
<div class="i0">Struck now and then, while skew-ways the donkeys fought with heels,—</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas six o'clock commencing, and now, the strokes of ten,</div>
<div class="i0">Were sounding from the city, and still these mounted men,</div>
<div class="i0">Had not received abrasion, a cut, a prod, or crack,</div>
<div class="i0">When both were somersaulted, from off each asses' back;</div>
<div class="i0">The weapons went in splinters, as on the frosty grass,</div>
<div class="i0">Each foeman sprawled a moment, and loudly cursed his ass.</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_127" id="Page_127">127</SPAN></span><div class="i0">The assmen, quickly bounded unto their feet again,</div>
<div class="i0">And watched the seconds, chasing the donkeys round the plain;</div>
<div class="i0">And when at length, we caught them, and brought them back once more,</div>
<div class="i0">With fits of indignation, the baffled foemen swore;</div>
<div class="i0">"Bad scran to it!" said Gorman, "O'Musha, yis bad scran"</div>
<div class="i0">Cried Pat O'Byrne, "It's not a fight, for any dacent man,</div>
<div class="i0">Four mortial hours we've struggled—an' I'm all in a sweat!"</div>
<div class="i0">Said Gorman "Pon me sowl, I got no chance to kill ye yet!"</div>
<div class="i0">"The fight has been protracted, and divil a thing is done,</div>
<div class="i0">I vote we go and tell her", said O'Byrne, "that it's no fun,</div>
<div class="i0">To fight, as we've been fighting. Tib's Eve might come, and go,</div>
<div class="i0">We'd still be found here fooling her donkeys thro' the snow."</div>
</div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">They felt a queer foreboding of something, going down</div>
<div class="i0">Parkgate-street, on that morning, till journeyed back to town;</div>
<div class="i0">They sought the girl, to tell her the fix that they were in,</div>
<div class="i0">When a larky-looking servant in the hall, began to grin.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"She's not at home at present, but breakfast sure is laid,</div>
<div class="i0">She's gone off to be married," outspoke the sneering maid;</div>
<div class="i0">"Le Beau, the fencin'-master is now the blissful man;</div>
<div class="i0">You'll see them soon, they're comin' in a satin-lined sedan."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"O, blur-an-owns!" said Gorman, "O tear o'war," said Byrne,</div>
<div class="i0">MacHugh, the other second, and I got quite a turn!</div>
<div class="i0">The man, who heard them quarrel, in Ranelagh-walk that night,</div>
<div class="i0">Was Le Beau, the man who sent them to Phœnix Park to fight.</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_128" id="Page_128">128</SPAN></span><div class="i0">He taught them both in fencing, and yet they did not know,</div>
<div class="i0">That each, was being instructed by his rival, Mons. Le Beau.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">They tied her pair of donkeys, unto her garden pier,</div>
<div class="i0">When from the topmost window, that servant shouted "Here,</div>
<div class="i0">A note she left to give you, for both of you to learn."</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas written: "Kit O'Gorman, and Mister Pat O'Byrne,</div>
<div class="i0">I've sent a couple of donkeys, I thought that they might teach</div>
<div class="i0">What fools you are, for fighting, for what's beyond your reach,</div>
<div class="i0">But, silly as my donkeys, if both of you remain,</div>
<div class="i0">Remorse for death, will follow,</div>
<div class="i10">I'm yours, Theresa Jane."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">We sought a Pub, and pondered, and drank, and sadly swore,</div>
<div class="i0">We would not be connected, with duels evermore,</div>
<div class="i0">I drank of stout, O'Gorman, and Byrne, of harder stuff,</div>
<div class="i0">They swore of duel fooling, they both had quite enough,—</div>
<div class="i0">Now, here's the bunch of fives, boys, there is no better rod</div>
<div class="i0">To 'venge our wounded honour, than the weapons made by God!</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo140.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="210" alt="illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="THE_ABDICATED_CROWN" id="THE_ABDICATED_CROWN">THE ABDICATED CROWN.</SPAN></h2>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo141a.jpg" width-obs="491" height-obs="331" alt="illustration" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo141b.jpg" width-obs="165" height-obs="319" alt="he" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo141c.jpg" width-obs="485" height-obs="122" alt="he" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
<span class="hide">He</span> WAS jolly, round, and fat,</div>
<div class="i0">And with a bright top hat,</div>
<div class="i2">A chain beneath his burly bosom set,</div>
<div class="i0">In good old fashioned way,</div>
<div class="i0">Said he to me, "I say</div>
<div class="i2">Old boy, I have a thing that's to be met,</div>
<div class="i10">A pressing little debt,</div>
<div class="i10">The dunner has me set,</div>
<div class="i2">My pocket is unfurnished, to be let!</div>
<div class="i0">Five bob is all I ask,"</div>
<div class="i0">I 'sponded to the task,</div>
<div class="i2">That abdicated crown is debit yet!</div>
</div></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="TEARS-IN-LAW" id="TEARS-IN-LAW">TEARS-IN-LAW</SPAN></h2>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_130" id="Page_130">130</SPAN></span></p>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo142a.jpg" width-obs="395" height-obs="221" alt="tears in law" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo142b.jpg" width-obs="86" height-obs="332" alt="tears in law" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">I</div> FOUND him wet with tears,</div>
<div class="i0">'Tis woe! to see a strong man thus,</div>
<div class="i0">"O Reginald Fitz Alpine Smyke,</div>
<div class="i0">Why, wherefore, whence, this fuss?</div>
<div class="i0">O is she dead, thy wife? for that,</div>
<div class="i10">Alone can justify,</div>
<div class="i0">A bearded man to sob, and spring</div>
<div class="i10">The sentimental eye."</div>
<div class="i0">He raised his agonised brows,</div>
<div class="i10">With tears, all steaming hot,</div>
<div class="i0">"Ah woe!" cried he, "you think my wife</div>
<div class="i10">Is gone, alas! she's not,</div>
<div class="i0">This anniversary seven years,</div>
<div class="i10">My mother-in-law pegged out,</div>
<div class="i0">I never pass the day, without</div>
<div class="i10">A lamentating shout,</div>
<div class="i0">Her wealth is settled on my wife,</div>
<div class="i10">And thus for some I bid,</div>
<div class="i0">With wails of woe, I take on so,—</div>
<div class="i0">For every filial tear-in-law,</div>
<div class="i5">She stands a shining quid!"</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_131" id="Page_131">131</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">I left him weeping up the stairs,</div>
<div class="i10">I met his wife below,</div>
<div class="i0">"I'll call," said I "another day,</div>
<div class="i10">Your husband takes on so,"</div>
<div class="i0">"And so he may take on," she said,</div>
<div class="i10">"His crocodiles may fall,</div>
<div class="i0">'Twill drain some water from his brain,</div>
<div class="i10">And do him good, that's all,</div>
<div class="i0">To-day in the domestic stocks,</div>
<div class="i10">He'll find a sudden fall!"</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Alas! for poor Fitz Alpine Smyke,</div>
<div class="i10">His confidence was meant</div>
<div class="i0">For me alone, but she was there,</div>
<div class="i10">In slippers, on the scent!</div>
<div class="i0">Then came an action for divorce,</div>
<div class="i10">With all its quips, and cranks,</div>
<div class="i0">And <em>nisi</em> was the laws <em>decree</em></div>
<div class="i10">That dropped him to the ranks,</div>
<div class="i0">And then he sought for many cribs,</div>
<div class="i10">The cribs he did not suit,</div>
<div class="i0">But he could well dissimulate,</div>
<div class="i10">So he became a mute,</div>
<div class="i0">His wife took the hymeneal bond</div>
<div class="i10">Again, and then she died,</div>
<div class="i0">And hired mutes with sorry mien,</div>
<div class="i10">Were by her coffin's side.</div>
<div class="i0">But when the funeral was o'er,</div>
<div class="i10">The widower he went</div>
<div class="i0">And greeted one of those—the mutes—</div>
<div class="i10">With feeling compliment,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_132" id="Page_132">132</SPAN></span><div class="i0">He lightly pinched him by the crape</div>
<div class="i10">"O Mister Mute, I say,</div>
<div class="i0">I wish I could have wept the tears,</div>
<div class="i10">That you have dropped to-day!"</div>
<div class="i0">"Ah! me alack!" the mute exclaimed,</div>
<div class="i10">"My sorrow was sincere,</div>
<div class="i0">And were I not the ass I am,</div>
<div class="i10">We wouldn't both be here;</div>
<div class="i0">For I am he, Fitz Alpine Smyke,</div>
<div class="i10">Thro' tears, I let her slip,</div>
<div class="i0">And now by tears, I eke it out</div>
<div class="i10">In salary and tip."</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo144.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="221" alt="illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="HE_FOLLOWED_THE_FOX" id="HE_FOLLOWED_THE_FOX">HE FOLLOWED THE FOX</SPAN></h2>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/img145a.jpg" width-obs="396" height-obs="232" alt="He followed the fox" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/img145b.jpg" width-obs="119" height-obs="208" alt="I" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/img145c.jpg" width-obs="393" height-obs="221" alt="illustration" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="margintop">
<p><span class="i0"><span class="hide">I</span> FOLLOWED the fox, tally ho!</span><br/>
<span class="i0">I followed the fox, with a go, by Joe!</span><br/>
<span class="i0">As swift as a swallow, or crow,</span><br/>
<span class="i10">Wo ho!</span><br/>
<span class="i0">The ditch, is a cropper, hello!</span><br/>
<span class="i0">I am in it! and out, and a show!</span><br/>
<span class="i0">Am asked to the next, won't go!</span><br/></p>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="THE_HONEST" id="THE_HONEST">THE HONEST YOUNG CASHIER</SPAN></h2>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_134" id="Page_134">134</SPAN></span>
<ANTIMG src="images/illo146.jpg" width-obs="488" height-obs="423" alt="The Honest young cashier" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo146b.jpg" width-obs="147" height-obs="52" alt="H" class="splitl" />
<div class="stanza begintop">
<div class="i0">
<span class="hide">H</span>
E was a courteous manager—a Bosser of the Bank,</div>
<div class="i0">He filled the post of Chairman, and other seats of rank.</div>
<div class="i0">But he was never envied, his screw was almost nil—</div>
<div class="i0">Ten thousand pounds per annum, and chances from the till.</div>
<div class="i0">One day, when he was wiping his specks, thought he, "I hold,</div>
<div class="i0">I'm working all for nothing by a heap of solid gold.</div>
<div class="i0">I'll make of it a custom, a couple of months or so,</div>
<div class="i0">To leave the strong room open as in and out I go.</div>
<div class="i0">And fitfully in absence of mind, I'll drop my bunch</div>
<div class="i0">Of keys about, and leave them when going down for lunch.</div>
<div class="i0">The point of which is plainly, that on a certain night,</div>
<div class="i0">I'll seize on all the Bullion, and fix it out of sight.</div>
<div class="i0">I will not be suspected, I'll do whate'er I please,</div>
<div class="i0">For I have clinked the vintage with nobles and M.P.'s;</div>
<div class="i0">And though I know he's honest, I'll make it so appear,</div>
<div class="i0">That I will prove the robber, is the honest young cashier.</div>
</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo147.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="229" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_135" id="Page_135">135</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">They'll pass a vote of censure, that I did leave behind,</div>
<div class="i0">My keys, and strong room open, but, pshaw! I need not mind.</div>
<div class="i0">'Twill come out on the trial, I'll make it sure and clear,</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas all of too much trust in the honest young cashier."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He left the strong room open; he left his keys about,</div>
<div class="i0">Upon his mantle-shelf, and desk, anon when he went out—</div>
<div class="i0">A custom not unnoticed by him, the young cashier,</div>
<div class="i0">Who got a stick of wax, and what he did with it is clear.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">One night there was a darkness, like crape upon the land,</div>
<div class="i0">And such a gust and thunder, a man could hardly stand.</div>
<div class="i0">The tempest was so fearsome, that if you spoke in shouts,</div>
<div class="i0">'Twould only be a tangle of tipsy words and doubts.</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas on that gloomy evening, the honest young cashier,</div>
<div class="i0">Bespoke him to the manager, and "Sir," said he, "Look here,</div>
<div class="i0">The staff is nearly idle, and so I think you might</div>
<div class="i0">Excuse me now, I'm wanting to do a thing to-night?"</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Well, you may go and do it." He went, and down he stole</div>
<div class="i0">Into the lonely coal-hole, behind a lump of coal,</div>
<div class="figleft"> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_136" id="Page_136">136</SPAN></span> <ANTIMG src="images/illo148.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="199" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="i0">And trussed him like a hedgehog upon the slack till sure,</div>
<div class="i0">He heard the distant slamming, that closed the outer door.</div>
<div class="i0">Then stole him from the coal-hole, he stole him up the stairs,</div>
<div class="i0">He ambushed on the landing, for fear of unawares.</div>
<div class="i0">He stole into the strong-room, and stealing out his key,</div>
<div class="i0">He stole it to the keyhole, and opened cautiously.</div>
<div class="i0">He looted off that evening as much as he could hold,</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas close on half a million, and all in solid gold.</div>
</div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">'Twas on that self-same evening the chairman thought 'twas right,</div>
<div class="i0">To work his own manœuvre, 'twas such a roughish night.</div>
<div class="i0">Three overcoats were on him, with pockets every side,</div>
<div class="i0">Ten carpet bags he carried, and all were deep and wide.</div>
<div class="i0">He also had a hatbox, and novel thought, and bright;</div>
<div class="i0">He stitched a row of stockings behind him out of sight,</div>
<div class="i0">He loaned a sealskin wallet, a whalebone gingham tent,</div>
<div class="i0">And through the garden gate he skid, and down the town he went.</div>
<div class="i0">He skirmished through the darkness, he skulked against the wind,</div>
<div class="i0">He spankled by some people, and left them all behind.</div>
<div class="figleft"> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_137" id="Page_137">137</SPAN></span> <ANTIMG src="images/illo149a.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="197" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="i0">He slewed around a corner, and up the lane he slank,</div>
<div class="i0">And shuffled thro' the wicket of the courtyard of the Bank.</div>
<div class="i0">He ducked into the back door, and picking up the stair,</div>
<div class="i0">He sneaked into the strong room, and, heavens! what was there?</div>
<div class="i0">The iron door was open, and all the heap of gold</div>
<div class="i0">Was gone! He sank with horror, and to the floor he rolled.</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo149b.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="204" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">And from beneath the tables and corners of the room,</div>
<div class="i0">Three coppers scrambled on him, like shadows of his doom.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">They put him on his trial, and heedless of his rank,</div>
<div class="i0">He got an awful sentence, for robbing of the Bank.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_138" id="Page_138">138</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">It proves that men are mortal, the sequel I have here,</div>
<div class="i0">The bankers called a meeting, they called the young cashier.</div>
<div class="i0">Said they, "You have impressed us with great integritee,</div>
<div class="i0">We'll give the future management of all the Bank to thee."</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo150.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="211" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">They made a testimonial, and signed it every one,</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas cornered with the pictures of specious deeds he'd done;</div>
<div class="i0">And on the scroll in beauty, of art did there appear,</div>
<div class="i0">The tribute of their homage to the honest young cashier.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">When you prepare for robbing, don't leave your keys about,</div>
<div class="i0">For fear a wax impression be taken while you're out;</div>
<div class="i0">And do not come in second, or it might be your doom</div>
<div class="i0">To chance upon three bobbies from the corners of the room.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="THE_ROAD_TO_LONDON" id="THE_ROAD_TO_LONDON">THE ROAD TO LONDON</SPAN></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img151.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="274" alt="The Road to London" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">P</div>RETTY maiden, all the way,</div>
<div class="i10">All the way, all the way,</div>
<div class="i0">Pretty maiden, why so gay,</div>
<div class="i10">On the road, to London?</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Will you give that rose to me?"</div>
<div class="i0">"That's the flower, of love," said she,</div>
<div class="i0">"I'll not give this rose to thee,</div>
<div class="i10">On the road, to London."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"I have got a love, and he,</div>
<div class="i0">Is a good heart, true to me,</div>
<div class="i0">'Tis for him, this rose you see,</div>
<div class="i10">On the road, to London."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Where is now, that love?" asked he,</div>
<div class="i0">"He's away from me," cried she,</div>
<div class="i0">"But he'll soon return to me,</div>
<div class="i10">On the road, to London."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_140" id="Page_140">140</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">"Would you know him, an' he be</div>
<div class="i0">Waiting there, by yonder tree?"</div>
<div class="i0">"Aye would I, on land or sea,</div>
<div class="i10">Or the road, to London!"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Then my sweetest, I am he,</div>
<div class="i0">Give that rose of love to me,</div>
<div class="i0">I have come, to greet with thee,</div>
<div class="i10">On the road, to London!"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Then he flung his cloak aside,</div>
<div class="i0">"I have come to make a bride,</div>
<div class="i0">Of the fairest, far and wide,</div>
<div class="i10">On the road, to London."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Then she laughed at him, and chaffed,</div>
<div class="i0">Unromantic, chaffed, and laughed;</div>
<div class="i0">Till he thought, that she was daft,</div>
<div class="i10">On the road, to London.</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_141" id="Page_141">141</SPAN></span></div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img152.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="271" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"No!" said she "That's not the way,</div>
<div class="i0">Parted lovers, meet to-day,</div>
<div class="i0">'Tis by note, or wire, they say</div>
<div class="i10">'On the road, to London.'</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"So 'twere best, thou didst by flight,</div>
<div class="i0">Take thy footsteps, out of sight,</div>
<div class="i0">Lest my love, per fortune, might</div>
<div class="i10">Strike the road, to London!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"We've been having shrimps and tea,</div>
<div class="i0">He's a champion knock out; He</div>
<div class="i0">Could knock spots off you," said she,</div>
<div class="i10">On the road, to London.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"See! my spouse, from yonder gap,</div>
<div class="i0">Cometh like a thunder clap!"</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img153.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="293" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="i0">"Ho! then here's for the first lap!</div>
<div class="i10">On the road, to London."</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="ANTEDILUVIAN_PAT_OTOOLE" id="ANTEDILUVIAN_PAT_OTOOLE">ANTEDILUVIAN PAT O'TOOLE AND ALL HIS FLEET OF SAIL</SPAN></h2>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo154a.jpg" width-obs="380" height-obs="202" alt="illustration" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo154b.jpg" width-obs="190" height-obs="392" alt="illustration" class="splitl" /></p>
<p class="prose margintop">
WHILE poking my umbrella into
the cracks and crannies that serve to
vary the monotonous setting of the
stones of a certain Pyramid of Egypt,
I scraped away a portion of mortar
or cement, and was agreeably surprised,
by discovering a roll, of what
I fondly hoped might be a bundle of
faded Bank of England notes; but
on closer inspection, it proved to be a
scroll of papyrus, thickly covered
with curious hieroglyphics.</p>
<p class="prose">They throw a misty light on the
history of the O'Tooles, for written
in a strange mingling of blank verse,
and ballad metre, they purport to give
a correct version of the account of
the Deluge; in which disaster, it
appears that a worthy ancestor of the
said family played a conspicuous, and
important part.</p>
<p class="prose">An Addenda accounting for their
presence in the pyramid is appended,
and contains the plausible statement,
that it was actually a descendant of
the said O'Toole, who designed and
built the tombs of the Pharoahs, and
adopted this subtle means of sending
his name down to these remote ages.</p>
<p class="prose">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_143" id="Page_143">143</SPAN></span>
Some savants and Egyptologists will cavil at this startling information,
but I happen to be in possession of a three cornered cypher that runs
thro' the composition of their architecture, which will be of convincing
merit, when I have time to issue the seven folio volumes, which I am not
preparing at present, in connection with this important subject.</p>
<p class="prose">The opening line proves that the Ballad must have been composed at a
much earlier period than that of the deluge.</p>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">'T</div>WAS in the raal ould antient times, when there wasn't any probability</div>
<div class="i0">Of thruth at all in anything, before the world was dhrownded,</div>
<div class="i0">An' the people spoke in Irish, with a wonderful facility,</div>
<div class="i0">Before their undherstandin's wor be foreign tongues confounded,</div>
<div class="i0">It was just about this pariod of the fine ould anshint history</div>
<div class="i0">Of the murnful earth, that Pat O'Toole, the Irishman was born,</div>
<div class="i10">He gev the information,</div>
<div class="i10">In a noisy intimation</div>
<div class="i0">Of his presence, rather early, on a Whitsun Monday morn,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">But it's not all out particular, or anything material,</div>
<div class="i0">To the thruth consarnin' all about the narrative I've spun,</div>
<div class="i10">The story of his birth, or the mirth</div>
<div class="i10">Upon this earth,</div>
<div class="i0">That shook his father's rafthers, with rousin' rounds of fun.</div>
</div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Whin Pat at last had come of age, It took a hundred years or so,</div>
<div class="i5">For then the men lived longer, and a minor wasn't free,</div>
<div class="i10">To slip out of the chancery,</div>
<div class="i10">An' from his legal infancy,</div>
<div class="i10">To come into his property,</div>
<div class="i10">Till the end of a century;</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_144" id="Page_144">144</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">Well it was just about that time a floatin' big menagerie,</div>
<div class="i5">Was bein' built by Noah, in the exhibition thrade,—</div>
<div class="i0">He advertised, an' posted it, got editorial puffs on it,</div>
<div class="i5">Explainin' that 'twould be the best, that ever yet was made.</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo156.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="302" alt="Illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He had it pasted up on walls, dhrawn out in yalla, red, an' green,</div>
<div class="i2">A lion tamer too</div>
<div class="i5">Was dhrew,</div>
<div class="i2">In puce, an' royal blue,</div>
<div class="i0">A hairy bowld gorilla new,</div>
<div class="i0">He got from Mossoo Doo Shalloo,</div>
<div class="i0">An elephant with thrunk, hooroo!</div>
<div class="i0">The plaziozarus, and emu,</div>
<div class="i5">A wild hoopoo,</div>
<div class="i5">A cockatoo,</div>
<div class="i0">An' the boxin' kangaroo,</div>
<div class="i0">He had it hoarded round, away</div>
<div class="i0">From thim that didn't want to pay,</div>
<div class="i0">An' guarded all be polis, in a private public park,</div>
<div class="i0">He paid a man that cried "Hooray!"</div>
<div class="i0">In shouts you'd hear a mile away,</div>
<div class="i5">"Come in, an' see the menagerie, that's cotch for Noah's Ark,</div>
<div class="i0">Come look at the wild menagerie, before the flood of wet comes down,</div>
<div class="i0">For thin ye won't have time to see, ye'll all be dhrownded thin!</div>
<div class="i5">The glass is goin' down to-day</div>
<div class="i5">An' sure from far Americay,</div>
<div class="i0">A blizzard's on the thrack I hear, so lose no time, come in!"</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_145" id="Page_145">145</SPAN></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Twas thin O'Toole, the Irishman, pushed wid his elbows thro' the crowd,</div>
<div class="i5">He dhropped his tanner, an' he wint into the show that day,</div>
<div class="i0">An' as he thrapsed along the decks, an' in the howld, an' up an' down,</div>
<div class="i5">He sudden got a pleasin' thought, an' thin he went away,</div>
<div class="i0">He kep' the saycret to himself, an' never towld a single sowl,</div>
<div class="i5">He kep' it dark, so there was none to budge, or tell the tale,</div>
<div class="i0">He wint to Father Mooney, an' he took the pledge agin' the drink,</div>
<div class="i5">An' in the sheds of his back yard, he built a fleet of sail,</div>
<div class="i0">He whistled as he worked, an' took a soothin' whiff of honest weed,—</div>
<div class="i5">That wasn't 'dultherated wid cabbage laves, or such,—</div>
<div class="i10">"I'll prove that Noah's out of it,"</div>
<div class="i10">He sung, an' took an airy fit</div>
<div class="i0">Of step dancin', "I'll make a hit, an' lave him on a crutch!"</div>
<div class="i0">He saw that Noah advertised, in notices around about,</div>
<div class="i5">He'd have to charge the passengers, to save them from the flood,</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas such a dirty selfish thrick, that nobody could stand to it;</div>
<div class="i5">But like a thrue born Irishman, siz Pat, siz he, "I could</div>
<div class="i10">Collect thim all,</div>
<div class="i10">Both great an' small,</div>
<div class="i5">An' won't give him a chance at all,</div>
<div class="i0">I'll spoil his speculation, an' I'll save thim from the flood!"</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Wid that he wandhered round the world, an' gathered curiosities,</div>
<div class="i5">Of every sortins of the male, an' of the faymale kind,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_146" id="Page_146">146</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">An' thin embarked thim in his fleet, until he had them all complate,</div>
<div class="i5">He didn't lave a quadruped, or bird, or midge behind,</div>
<div class="i0">He kep' the saycret to himself, an' never wint upon the dhrink,</div>
<div class="i5">An' out of every pub, they missed his presence round the town,</div>
<div class="i10">Until the sky was gettin dark,</div>
<div class="i10">An' thin the hatches of the ark,</div>
<div class="i5">Wor overhauled by Noah, an' the wet kem peltin' down,</div>
<div class="i0">Thin Japhet, Shem, an' Ham, stood on the threshowld of their father's ark,</div>
<div class="i5">An' shouted to the thousands, that wor in the teemin' rain,</div>
<div class="i0">"Shut up yer umberellas quick, an' save yerselves for half-a-crown,</div>
<div class="i5">Ye'll never have a chance like this, in all yer lives again!</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo158.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="342" alt="Illustration" /></div>
<div class="i0">For if ye want to save yer wives,</div>
<div class="i0">Or if ye'd like to lave yer wives,</div>
<div class="i0">Or maybe wish to save yer lives!</div>
<div class="i5">It's half a crown, come in,</div>
<div class="i0">The world will all be dhrownded soon!</div>
<div class="i0">We know it be the risin' moon,</div>
<div class="i0">A wheel of mist is round her boys,</div>
<div class="i0">Come in, an' save yer skin!"</div>
<div class="i0">The charge was rather high, an' so they didn't get a sowl to go,</div>
<div class="i0">For thin the royal mint was low, an' everyone was poor,</div>
<div class="i0">"Ah! what's the use of bawlin' there?" siz Noah, from his aisy chair,</div>
<div class="i5">"Yer only blatherin to the air! come in an' hasp the door,"</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_147" id="Page_147">147</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">Just thin the wathers risin' high, the people all began to cry,</div>
<div class="i5">An' scrambled to the places dhry, as fast as they could whail;</div>
<div class="i0">Whin all at once they seen a show, for from the distance down below,</div>
<div class="i0">Came Captain Pat O'Toole hooroo! an' all his fleet of sail!</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo159.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="260" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He scattered life belts in the flood, an' empty casks, an' chunks of wood,</div>
<div class="i5">An' everything he possibly could, with nets, an' ropes, an' thongs</div>
<div class="i0">He dhragged thim in by hook, or crook, a tinker, king, a thramp or duke,</div>
<div class="i5">By fishin' line, or anchor fluke, an' several pairs of tongs,</div>
</div>
<ANTIMG src="images/illo160a.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="247" alt="illustration" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo160b.jpg" width-obs="269" height-obs="418" alt="illustration" class="splitl" />
<div class="margintop">
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_148" id="Page_148">148</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">
The elephant loaned out his thrunk,</div>
<div class="i0">To male or faymale, in their funk</div>
<div class="i0">Of wather,—without whiskey,—dhrunk;</div>
<div class="i2">An' risin' thro' the wreck</div>
<div class="i0">Of the cowld deluge, teemin' round,</div>
<div class="i0">Giraffe, an' ostrich, scoured the ground,</div>
<div class="i0">An' every dhrownin' sowl they found,</div>
<div class="i2">They saved them by a neck!</div>
<div class="i0">For Pat was known, to bird, an' baste,</div>
<div class="i0">Of kindly heart, an' so a taste,</div>
<div class="i0">Of pleasin' gratitude they placed,</div>
<div class="i2">For help of Captain Pat,</div>
<div class="i0">While fore, an aft, an' every tack,</div>
<div class="i0">The captain scrambled like a black,—</div>
<div class="i0">With freight of men, his punts to pack—</div>
<div class="i2">In specks, an' bright top hat.</div>
<div class="i0">On larboard, or on starboard side, whatever dhrownin'</div>
<div class="i0">Crowds he spied, he dhragged them in wid wholesale pride,</div>
<div class="i2">As quick as jumpin' cat!</div>
<div class="i0">The blind an' lame, the short, an' tall, the wild, an' tame,</div>
<div class="i0">The great, an' small, wid tubs he came, an' saved them all,</div>
<div class="i2">The skinny, round, an' fat.</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo161a.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="106" alt="illustration" /></div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_149" id="Page_149">149</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">He didn't care,</div>
<div class="i0">At front or rare,</div>
<div class="i2">Or head or tail,</div>
<div class="i0">No matther where,</div>
<div class="i0">He didn't fail,</div>
<div class="i0">By skin, or hair,</div>
<div class="i0">Whin once he cotch a grip,</div>
<div class="i0">He hawled thim in with frightened howls, upon the decks, as thick as rowls;</div>
<div class="i6">Till all the world of livin' sowls, wor safe in every ship!!</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo161b.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="343" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He saved the King of Snookaroo, he had no trowsers on, its thrue,</div>
<div class="i0">But what is that to me or you? he saved him all the same,</div>
<div class="i0">There was no bigotry in Pat, an' in the bussel of the king,</div>
<div class="i0">He stuck a boat hook, with a spring, an' saved him all the same!</div>
<div class="i0">The Rooshan Bear he did not shirk, he cotch him on a three-pronged fork,</div>
<div class="i0">And wrastlin' with a furious Turk, he dumped thim on the deck,</div>
</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo162.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="297" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_150" id="Page_150">150</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">The Chinese Emperor; he squat around a lamp, siz he to Pat,</div>
<div class="i0">"O Captain take me out of that,"</div>
<div class="i0">Pat scruffed him be the neck,</div>
<div class="i0">"O do not save the Jap he said,</div>
<div class="i0">He has no pigtail on his head,</div>
<div class="i0">The bad pernicious chap!"—But Pat hauled in the Jap.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Outside a public house, the sign was loaded with the muses nine,</div>
<div class="i5">They shouted "Pat ah! throw a line, we've all been on the dhrink,"</div>
<div class="i0">Siz Pat "Although I'll never brake the pledge meself, here, thry an' take</div>
<div class="i5">Howld of the teeth of this owld rake," and raked thim in like wink!</div>
<div class="i0">Three judges of a county coort, wor by the wathers taken short,</div>
<div class="i5">O throth, it must have been the sport, to see their dhreepin' wigs!</div>
<div class="i0">"Ketch on to this!" said Pat O'Toole, an' like a soft, good natured fool,</div>
<div class="i5">He flung a lawyer's 'lastic rule, an' dhragged thim in like pigs,</div>
<div class="i0">We'd all be innocent, in bliss, with ne'er a polis, but for this,</div>
<div class="i5">The judges shouted, "do not miss"—and dashed their dhreepin' wigs,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_151" id="Page_151">151</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">"O save the polismen!" they cried, "There's thirteen on a roof outside;"</div>
<div class="i5">An' with some knotted sthrips of hide, he mopped them in like pigs,</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo163a.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="218" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Now ships ahoy!"</div>
<div class="i5">siz Pat, "We may</div>
<div class="i0">Put out to say,</div>
<div class="i0">Without delay,</div>
<div class="i0">An' while its day,</div>
<div class="i0">We'll start away,</div>
<div class="i0">Before the rising gale,"</div>
</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo163b.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="369" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Thin from a bog oak, three-legg'd stool,</div>
<div class="i0">He took the sun, with a two foot rule,</div>
<div class="i0">An' round the world, went Pat O'Toole,</div>
<div class="i0">An' all his fleet of sail!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_152" id="Page_152">152</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">'Twas on St. Swithin's day, the wet began, an' rained for forty days,</div>
<div class="i5">An' forty nights, it blundhered out the thunder, lift an' right,</div>
<div class="i0">Whin like a merricle it stopped, the sun came out, said Pat O'Toole,</div>
<div class="i5">"Hooroo! there's land ahoy! the tops of Wicklow are in sight!"</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo164.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="115" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">An' then he brought his ships around, an' dhropped a cargo everywhere,</div>
<div class="i5">In counthries where they'd propagate, an' where he thought they'd fit,</div>
<div class="i0">He made a present to the blacks, of lions and the tigers, and</div>
<div class="i5">The serpents and the monkeys, and such awkward perquisit,</div>
<div class="i0">He gev the Esquimaux, the bears, an' with the Rooshins, left a few,</div>
<div class="i5">An' dhropped a hungry wolf or two, to make the bargain square,</div>
<div class="i0">The mustang, and the buffaloe, the red man of the wilderness,</div>
<div class="i5">To bowld Amerikay he gev, an' still you'll find thim there,</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo165.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="213" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_153" id="Page_153">153</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">To Hindoostan, the elephant, an' hippopotamus he gev,</div>
<div class="i0">The alligator, crocodile,</div>
<div class="i0">The simple vulture too,</div>
<div class="i0">The divil for Tasmania, the 'possum, an' the parakeet,</div>
<div class="i5">He brought out to Osthreelia, with the boundin' kangaroo.</div>
<div class="i0">He left the Isle of Man the last, an' gev a three-legged cat that passed</div>
<div class="i5">One day, beneath a fallin' mast, an' cut her tail in two!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">The only thing he missed, in this regard of all the captain done,</div>
<div class="i5">He didn't save the Irish elk, 'twas dhrownded be the flood,</div>
<div class="i0">But still we can't find fault with him, he made it up to Erin, for</div>
<div class="i5">He didn't lave a reptile there, an' did a power of good.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">But while the Captain, Pat O'Toole, was coastin' round, an' dhroppin' men,</div>
<div class="i5">An' elephants, an' butterflies, behind him in his thrack,</div>
<div class="i0">The ark with Noah, and his wife, an' childer, sthruck on Ararat,</div>
<div class="i5">An' sprung a leak, an' all at once, became a total wrack!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_154" id="Page_154">154</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">Whin Noah got his specks, an' saw by manes of different telegrams,</div>
<div class="i5">How Pat O'Toole had been at work, his heart within him sunk,</div>
<div class="i0">Siz he unto his Familee, "Let one of you's, sit up for me,"</div>
<div class="i5">Thin slipped around the corner, and he dhrank till he got dhrunk.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">But Pat O'Toole, he always kep' the pledge, he took before the flood,</div>
<div class="i5">He lived for eighteen hundred years, a blameless sort of life,</div>
<div class="i0">And whin he died, the Hill of Howth was built up for his monument,</div>
<div class="i5">And Ireland's eye was modelled out, in memory of his wife.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo166.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="153" alt="illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2>SONNET ON SHARES.</h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo167.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="309" alt="Sonnet on Shares" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">T</div>O fill his glass as host,</div>
<div class="i0">Was honour I did boast,</div>
<div class="i8">And he spake to me one day, with a smile,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"You wish to make a mark,</div>
<div class="i0">Then to my counsel hark,</div>
<div class="i8">In the Co., for which I'm chairman, put your pile."</div>
<div class="i0">He was noble, he was good,</div>
<div class="i0">Of the upper ten, his blood</div>
<div class="i8">Æsthetic tint of azure, all the while,</div>
<div class="i8">A tone to conjure with,—I put my pile.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">The shares went down, O my!</div>
<div class="i0">Was not a fool to buy;</div>
<div class="i8">If I had been a savage on the Nile,</div>
<div class="i0">I needn't pen this sonnet, with a sigh!</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="The_Lucky_Sixpence" id="The_Lucky_Sixpence">THE LUCKY SIXPENCE</SPAN></h2>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_156" id="Page_156">156</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo168a.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="246" alt="The Lucky Sixpence" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">Y</div>OU can't exist on nothing, when launched in wedded life—</div>
<div class="i0">So a lucky battered sixpence, was all I gave my wife,</div>
<div class="i0">And said to her one morning, "When another vessel starts</div>
<div class="i0">I'll scoot, and make my fortune, in romantic foreign parts."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">And so I went and scooted, but how the thing was done,</div>
<div class="i0">Was not like any pic-nic, or passage made for fun.</div>
<div class="i0">We had hardly left the Channel, and were in the offing yet,</div>
<div class="i0">When the steward heard me snoring in the quiet lazarette.</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo168b.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="273" alt="I found a Purse" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">It wasn't quite successful—the voyage—after this,</div>
<div class="i0">And when we got out foreign, I didn't land in bliss.</div>
<div class="i0">I worked my passage over, but the captain wasn't kind,</div>
<div class="i0">And all I got for wages, was a compliment behind!</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_157" id="Page_157">157</SPAN></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">And thus I was a failure, my later life was worse,</div>
<div class="i0">When twenty years were over, at last I found a purse.</div>
<div class="i0">It made me sad, and homesick, and tired of foreign life,</div>
<div class="i0">"I'll start," says I, "for Europe, and try and find my wife."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I sought her when I landed, but everything was changed,</div>
<div class="i0">And high and low I wandered, and far and near I ranged;</div>
<div class="i0">I put her full description in several ads.—at last</div>
<div class="i0">My flag of hope that fluttered, came half-way down the mast.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I went, and I enlisted all in the bluecoat ranks;</div>
<div class="i0">And took to promenading along the Liffey banks.</div>
<div class="i0">I made a measured survey of curbstones in the squares,</div>
<div class="i0">And prowled behind the corners, for pouncing unawares.</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo169.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="247" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Twelve months of measured pacing, had gone since I began;</div>
<div class="i0">I hadn't run a prisoner, the time was all I ran;</div>
<div class="i0">And when the year had vanished, said the sergeant, "Halt, O'Brine!</div>
<div class="i0">You haven't run a prisoner, you'll have to draw the line."</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">That night I went and drew it—'twas peeping through a blind!—</div>
<div class="i0">I got some information, of suspicious work behind.</div>
<div class="i0">The act I had my eye on, was a woman with some lead,</div>
<div class="i0">I watched her squeeze a sixpence, in wad of toughened bread.</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_158" id="Page_158">158</SPAN></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">A chance of some distinction was here, I could not shirk,</div>
<div class="i0">I peeled my worsted mittens, and bravely went to work.</div>
<div class="i0">I double somersaulted the window—'twas a do</div>
<div class="i0">I picked up in Australia, from a foreign kangaroo.</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo170a.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="216" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I lighted on the table, not quite upon my feet,</div>
<div class="i0">But, ah! her guilty terror was evidence complete.</div>
<div class="i0">"Wot's this," said I, impounding the lead, and bread, and tin;</div>
<div class="i0">"I've caught you in the act, ma'am, I'll have to run you in."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">They put her on her trial, and the evidence began,</div>
<div class="i0">I swore my information, like a polis and a man;</div>
<div class="i0">I showed a silver sixpence, with a hole in it defined,</div>
<div class="i0">And showed them how I telescoped my presence thro' the blind.</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo170b.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="222" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">The jury found her guilty, the judge condemned her then,</div>
<div class="i0">To go into retirement, where she couldn't coin again.</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_159" id="Page_159">159</SPAN></span><div class="i0">"O, sure I wasn't coinin', mavourneen judge asthore,</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas the sixpence of my sweetheart that's on a foreign shore.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">A lucky one he gave me, he stayed away too long.</div>
<div class="i0">I wanted for to change it, and thought it wasn't wrong</div>
<div class="i0">To take its little photograph, for the sake of bein' his wife."</div>
<div class="i0">Said the Judge, "It doesn't matter, I've sentenced you for life!"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I saw her disappearing, from my eye behind the dock,</div>
<div class="i0">O, ham an fowl! it's awful, to think upon the shock.</div>
<div class="i0">I staggered with my baton to the sergeant, and I swore,</div>
<div class="i0">He had made me run too many, I'd seek a foreign shore.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo171.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="212" alt="illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="A_Wall_Flower_Sonnet" id="A_Wall_Flower_Sonnet">A WALL FLOWER SONNET.</SPAN></h2>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_160" id="Page_160">160</SPAN></span></p>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo172ab.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="147" alt="A Wall Flower Sonnet" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo172ac.jpg" width-obs="145" height-obs="314" alt="A Wall Flower Sonnet" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">S</div>HE was charming, full of grace,</div>
<div class="i0">A hostess, you could place</div>
<div class="i0">In a higher sphere, than that in which she shone,</div>
<div class="i0">"I've a partner you should meet,</div>
<div class="i0">A girl, extremely sweet!"</div>
<div class="i0">And for the dance she always put me on,</div>
<div class="i0">But meetings of regret,</div>
<div class="i0">Were maidens that I met,</div>
<div class="i0">My hostess was a gay designing one,</div>
<div class="i0">Her wallflowers were too plain,</div>
<div class="i0">The waltz did give me pain,</div>
<div class="i0">I took a B. and S. and I was gone!</div>
<div class="i0">She played with me, too often put me on,</div>
<div class="i0">My hostess was a gay designing one!</div>
</div></div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo172b.jpg" width-obs="100" height-obs="227" alt="illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="PARADOXICAL_WORDS" id="PARADOXICAL_WORDS">PARADOXICAL WORDS</SPAN></h2>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo173a.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="281" alt="Paradoxical Words" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo173b.jpg" width-obs="72" height-obs="63" alt="H" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
<span class="hide">H</span>
E was up on the hustings, and thrashed with his tongue,</div>
<div class="i10">The air in a socialistic vein,</div>
<div class="i0">And as an employer, for the workers he felt,</div>
<div class="i10">By proxy,—a sympathetic pain!</div>
<div class="i0">A pang, that the few could wallow in their wealth,</div>
<div class="i10">Whilst many—their brothers—should sweat,</div>
<div class="i0">"But ha!" shouted he, with a chuckle, and a grin,</div>
<div class="i10">"You'll be having a millenium of it yet!"</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He taught that the masters should share with the men,</div>
<div class="i10">He scouted, with pitiless vim,</div>
<div class="i0">The right of the master, to more than his man,</div>
<div class="i10">For his man was the master of him,</div>
<div class="i0">Then they flourished their hats, for the precept, with hope,</div>
<div class="i10">That to practice, he might be content;</div>
<div class="i0">But the confidence trick, is a hustings resource,</div>
<div class="i10">And to part, wasn't just what he meant:</div>
<div class="i0">He spoke, as a speech is the fashion to-day,</div>
<div class="i10">In loud paradoxical words,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_162" id="Page_162">162</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">As a titled Premier of the Commons, would shout,</div>
<div class="i10">"Down down with the House of Lords."</div>
<div class="i0">But still, 'twas a hopeful, and beautiful proof,</div>
<div class="i10">That the cause of the toiler, was just,</div>
<div class="i0">And he wouldn't have to wait, very long for a snack,</div>
<div class="i10">From the sugar ornamented upper crust,</div>
<div class="i0">In a very little time, he'd be gathering his whack,</div>
<div class="i10">From the azure-fired diamond—upper dust,</div>
<div class="i0">"You'll be having a millenium of it yet, working men,</div>
<div class="i10">Put me into Parliament, and then,</div>
<div class="i0">You'll find it a fact, we'll pass every act,</div>
<div class="i10">For your chums, and your kids, working men,</div>
<div class="i0">The hours you will work, will be eight, working men,</div>
<div class="i10">On Saturday, not quarter so late,</div>
<div class="i0">And another holiday, in the middle of the week,</div>
<div class="i10">We'll give you, by the laws of the state,</div>
<div class="i0">With a capon, or a duck, on your plate,</div>
<div class="i10">O put me into Parliament, and <em>wait</em>!</div>
<div class="i0">You'll be having the land parcelled out into bits,</div>
<div class="i10">You'll be all of you fixed in the soil,</div>
<div class="i0">And spontaniety of crops you will reap,</div>
<div class="i10">Without any trouble or toil.</div>
<div class="i0">The screw will extend for each working man,</div>
<div class="i10">Employers will have to screw back,</div>
<div class="i0">Till tailored by the act, in polished top hats,</div>
<div class="i10">You'll all be as gents in the track!</div>
<div class="i0">We'll cut away the taxes, by the laws that we'll pass!</div>
<div class="i10">You won't have to pay any rate!</div>
<div class="i0">You'll be having a millenium of it yet, working men,</div>
<div class="i10">O put me into Parliament, and <em>wait</em>!"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_163" id="Page_163">163</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">And thus with emotional foliated flights,</div>
<div class="i10">He spoke like the clashing of swords,</div>
<div class="i0">As a titled Premier of the Commons would shout,</div>
<div class="i10">"Down down with the House of Lords!"</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He finished his speech in a thunder of cheers,</div>
<div class="i10">The welkin was knocked into splits,</div>
<div class="i0">And he smuggled off home, by the rear, or his trap,</div>
<div class="i10">They'd have looted for souvenir bits!</div>
</div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">With the conscience of one, who believes he has done,</div>
<div class="i10">What was really the best, for himself,</div>
<div class="i0">He retired into bed, that night, and he fell</div>
<div class="i10">Fast asleep, like a saint on a shelf.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">It might have been a very short period of time,</div>
<div class="i10">Or maybe it might have been long,</div>
<div class="i0">When he woke with a buzz like a bee in his ear,</div>
<div class="i10">Or the purr of a tom cat's song.</div>
<div class="i0">It might be the bizz of a wasp, or the hum,</div>
<div class="i10">Of a foraging blue bottle fly,</div>
<div class="i0">But no! 'twas the sound of the whizz of a drill!</div>
<div class="i10">'Twas then that he opened his eye.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He jumped up in bed, and he cried with an oath,</div>
<div class="i10">"What's that, that you're doing, you scamp?"</div>
<div class="i0">To a burglar brave, who was sampling his room,</div>
<div class="i10">With a bag, jemmy, brace, and a lamp.</div>
<div class="i0">Then the burglar grinned in an amicable way,</div>
<div class="i10">For a diplomatic cracker was he,</div>
<div class="i0">And he wouldn't take offence at the oath of a man,</div>
<div class="i10">Who had only awoke, said he,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_164" id="Page_164">164</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">"I was down at the meetin' an' heerd every word,</div>
<div class="i10">When you gave out the socialist pay,</div>
<div class="i0">An' I am a bloke wot swears by the truth</div>
<div class="i10">Of the beautiful words that you say.</div>
<div class="i0">That's whoy I am here, for my slice of the swag,</div>
<div class="i10">That you've pinched, by employin' your men.</div>
<div class="i0">I'm tottin' up the stock, in a confidential way,</div>
<div class="i10">For an equal division of it then,</div>
<div class="i0">For mate, I'm a pal of a Socialistic turn,</div>
<div class="i10">Wot tries to do everythink straight,</div>
<div class="i0">We'll halve them between us, the jewels and coin,</div>
<div class="i10">An' make an even deal of the plate."</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo176.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="190" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">But out from the bed, with a jump in his shirt,</div>
<div class="i0">The candidate sprang to the floor,</div>
<div class="i0">Said he, "I may preach, but to practice is bosh!"</div>
<div class="i0">And leaped with a shout to the door.</div>
<div class="i0">But the cracker of cribs, with a colt in his fist,</div>
<div class="i0">Was first, and with that at the nose</div>
<div class="i0">Of the candidate, muttered "You'll die of the cold,</div>
<div class="i10">If you don't burrow under the clothes!</div>
<div class="i0">"So don't make a row," said that burglar brave,</div>
<div class="i10">"But jerk into bed out of sight,</div>
<div class="i0">I hate to be put upon when I'm at work,</div>
<div class="i10">An' Boss, this is my busy night!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_165" id="Page_165">165</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">"Now jest let me fasten a gag on yer mouth,</div>
<div class="i10">You know that it's wrong, to alarm</div>
<div class="i0">Your neighbours at night, when they're wantin' to sleep,</div>
<div class="i10">Quick! into this noose with each arm,</div>
<div class="i0">There! now, with that beautiful knot on your pins,</div>
<div class="i10">You cawn't say as how yer to blame,</div>
<div class="i0">If I pinch all I can in the regular way,</div>
<div class="i10">Of the grabber's contemptible game!"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He opened the safe, and he smashed the bureau,</div>
<div class="i10">He looted the drawers, and shelf,</div>
<div class="i0">Of the plate, and the clocks, and the watches, and cash,</div>
<div class="i10">From the cabinet, quick as an elf.</div>
<div class="i0">Slid everything down to his pal, with a rope,</div>
<div class="i10">And then he slid down it himself,</div>
<div class="i0">They drove with the swag, from the terrace amain,</div>
<div class="i10">In a couple of hired out traps;</div>
<div class="i0">And the city, was billed on the following day,</div>
<div class="i10">With the Special Editions in caps!</div>
</div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">'Twas a reasonable period, from the incident above,</div>
<div class="i10">That a solemn deputation came down,</div>
<div class="i0">For the candidate to speak in a socialistic vein,</div>
<div class="i10">To the voters of the east of London town:</div>
<div class="i0">"We'll be looking for you there, on waggon No. I.</div>
<div class="i10">Near the arch, that's of marble, in the park,"</div>
<div class="i0">But he pointed to the door "O tell them that I'm dead;</div>
<div class="i10">For cram it! I am not up to the mark,"</div>
</div></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_166" id="Page_166">166</SPAN></span></p>
<h2><SPAN name="A_CANTABILE_ON_MUSIC_ART_AND_LAW"></SPAN>A CANTABILE ON MUSIC, ART, AND LAW.</h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo178.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="232" alt="A Cantabile on Music, Art and Law" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Ho! there, pumps and castanets for three,</div>
<div class="i0">We would dance a brief measure.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">O</div> YOU will wonder why we're here,</div>
<div class="i10">And wish that we were far,</div>
<div class="i0">By wig, and gown, it doth appear,</div>
<div class="i10">We're members of the bar,</div>
<div class="i0">And tho' we are, we say to you,</div>
<div class="i10">We all of us opine,</div>
<div class="i0">That we may justly claim our due,</div>
<div class="i10">In an artistic line.</div>
<div class="i0">We are the type of one, you know,</div>
<div class="i10">As well as we can tell,</div>
<div class="i0">He is a burly splendid beau,</div>
<div class="i10">A stately howling swell!—</div>
<div class="i0">A signor of the lyric stage,</div>
<div class="i10">An operatic Don,—</div>
<div class="i0">And by similitude, we'll wage</div>
<div class="i10">That he, and we are one!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_167" id="Page_167">167</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">'Tis true, tho' he is mostly stout,</div>
<div class="i10">We're nearly always thin,</div>
<div class="i0">But if you turn us inside out,</div>
<div class="i10">We're stouter men within.</div>
<div class="i0">For he is all a puff, and smoke,</div>
<div class="i10">A sound that dies away;</div>
<div class="i0">But we are they who crack a joke,</div>
<div class="i10">That lasts for many a day.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He has his crotchets; we do harp,</div>
<div class="i10">On clients, this, and that,</div>
<div class="i0">He has his sharps, and we are sharp,</div>
<div class="i10">His flats, and they are flat;</div>
<div class="i0">He blows away his notes, but we,</div>
<div class="i10">Are shrewder men by far,</div>
<div class="i0">The notes we get professionly,</div>
<div class="i10">We stick them to the Bar!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">His quavers, they are nothing to</div>
<div class="i10">The rallantando thrills,</div>
<div class="i0">That shake our clients, when we screw</div>
<div class="i10">The rosin on their bills.</div>
<div class="i0">They often simulate, as deaf,</div>
<div class="i10">When we do charge a case,</div>
<div class="i0">Our time is on the treble cleff,</div>
<div class="i10">And their's is on the base.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">We make a loud fortissimo,</div>
<div class="i10">When pleading in the wrong,</div>
<div class="i0">And often pianissimo,</div>
<div class="i10">When we should put it strong,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_168" id="Page_168">168</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">But still we pull our fees the same,</div>
<div class="i10">Tho' suits may not be won,</div>
<div class="i0">And by our tongue, we conquer fame,</div>
<div class="i10">Like that conceited Don.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">And to the jury, we do plaint,</div>
<div class="i10">Upon a mauling stick,</div>
<div class="i0">And from our pallets, clap the paint,</div>
<div class="i10">Around their craniums thick,</div>
<div class="i0">We mould them from their purpose dense,</div>
<div class="i10">Like hods of plastic wax,</div>
<div class="i0">And sculp into their common sense,</div>
<div class="i10">And then climb down their backs!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Our song is done, for we are brief,</div>
<div class="i10">And we will sing no more,—</div>
<div class="i0">And to my own intense relief,</div>
<div class="i10">I thought they'd take the door,</div>
<div class="i0">But no! they did not go, and each,</div>
<div class="i10">Put forth his kidded fist,</div>
<div class="i0">"While we've been trying thus to teach,</div>
<div class="i10">Our fees we almost missed!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Remember this is Christmas eve,</div>
<div class="i10">Three Chrismas waits we be,</div>
<div class="i0">The more the reason you should give,</div>
<div class="i10">Our consultation fee.</div>
<div class="i0">We have our instruments, and they</div>
<div class="i10">Are of the parchment tough,</div>
<div class="i0">With which we play, while men do pay,</div>
<div class="i10">We wot we've said enough.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_169" id="Page_169">169</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">And wherefore, and whereas for this,</div>
<div class="i10">Aforesaid, told to thee,</div>
<div class="i0">Moreover, we must have, we wis,</div>
<div class="i10">Our consultation fee.</div>
<div class="i0">Five guineas unto each of us,</div>
<div class="i10">Refreshers each, a pound,"—</div>
<div class="i0">I rose to kick them into bruss,</div>
<div class="i10">They bolted through the ground!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">My future suppers, must be free</div>
<div class="i10">Of nightmare risk; the cause</div>
<div class="i0">Of that cantabile of glee,</div>
<div class="i10">On music, art, and laws;</div>
<div class="i0">Was merely this, that I did run,</div>
<div class="i10">The danger of such rig,</div>
<div class="i0">By feeding on a goose, they hatched,</div>
<div class="i10">Inside a lawyer's wig.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo181.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="134" alt="illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_170" id="Page_170">170</SPAN></span></p>
<h2><SPAN name="WOMANS_TEARS" id="WOMANS_TEARS">WOMAN'S TEARS.</SPAN></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo182a.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="215" alt="Woman's Tears" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i6">
<ANTIMG src="images/illo182b.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="354" alt="T" class="floatl" />HE tears were in her eye,</div>
<div class="i6">Said I "what makes you cry?"</div>
<div class="i6">And my sympathy was such, that I sighed;</div>
<div class="i6">For it gives my heart the creep,</div>
<div class="i6">To see a woman weep,—</div>
<div class="i6">Especially the one to be my Bride.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i12">"Alas!" said I, "Ah! me,</div>
<div class="i12">It grieveth me, to see</div>
<div class="i6">That trickle, at your nostril, by the side."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i6">"'Twas the onions, I was cutting," she replied.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="HERADIC_FRUITS_OF_A_FAMILY_TREE"></SPAN>HERADIC FRUITS OF A FAMILY TREE</h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo183.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="599" alt="HERADIC FRUITS OF A FAMILY TREE By a Lyin' King Of Arms" /></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_172" id="Page_172">172</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo184.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="374" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">W</div>HEN Cha, the first,</div>
<div class="i10">Was run to ground,</div>
<div class="i0">An Ancestorial</div>
<div class="i10">Mite was found;</div>
<div class="i0">By Rails in Pale,</div>
<div class="i10">At Dexter Chief,</div>
<div class="i0">From Judges' wig,</div>
<div class="i10">He pipes his grief.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">H</div>IS deeds, of later</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_173" id="Page_173">173</SPAN></span>
<div class="i10">Life, did tend,</div>
<div class="i0">To prove him of</div>
<div class="i10">The Sinister Bend;</div>
<div class="i0">As boozing Charge,</div>
<div class="i10">He takes his place,</div>
<div class="i0">From Sinister Chief,</div>
<div class="i10">To Dexter Base.</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo185.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="306" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo186.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="398" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">H</div>IS son, did Charge</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_174" id="Page_174">174</SPAN></span>
<div class="i10">In Sable Chief,</div>
<div class="i0">A Sword, or he</div>
<div class="i10">Had come to grief;</div>
<div class="i0">That Chief above,</div>
<div class="i10">From Sinister, part,</div>
<div class="i0">Has got,—per Fesse—</div>
<div class="i10">That Sword in Heart!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">A</div>NOTHER Son,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_175" id="Page_175">175</SPAN></span>
<div class="i10">Of prudent parts,</div>
<div class="i0">Doth Pawn his Arms,</div>
<div class="i10">For peaceful arts;</div>
<div class="i0">From Dexter or,</div>
<div class="i10">On Shield of Gu,</div>
<div class="i0">In pale, reguardant</div>
<div class="i10">Sinister Jew.</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img187.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="360" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo188.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="373" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">A</div>NOTHER Son,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_176" id="Page_176">176</SPAN></span>
<div class="i10">From want appeald,</div>
<div class="i0">To art, for Charge,</div>
<div class="i10">On Argent Shield,</div>
<div class="i0">And so, upon</div>
<div class="i10">His Coat he drew</div>
<div class="i0">A Garb, that he</div>
<div class="i10">Might dare, and do</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">H</div>E sought to Void</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_177" id="Page_177">177</SPAN></span>
<div class="i10">A hen-coup, he</div>
<div class="i0">Is Trussed above it,</div>
<div class="i10">On a tree;</div>
<div class="i0">Couchant, in Chief,</div>
<div class="i10">With Spade, in Fesse,</div>
<div class="i0">A sorry wight,</div>
<div class="i10">He must confess.</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo189.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="304" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo190.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="388" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">A</div>T length, an Orient</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_178" id="Page_178">178</SPAN></span>
<div class="i10">Pile, he took,</div>
<div class="i0">Then Counterchanged,</div>
<div class="i10">His Coat for luck!</div>
<div class="i0">This Dexter treatment,</div>
<div class="i10">Is not right;</div>
<div class="i0">He's Or, on Ar,</div>
<div class="i10">The lawless wight!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">B</div>UT ah! at last,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_179" id="Page_179">179</SPAN></span>
<div class="i10">His fate was healed</div>
<div class="i0">And by command,</div>
<div class="i10">Got Royal Shield;</div>
<div class="i0">A Dexter King,</div>
<div class="i10">Reguardant, won!</div>
<div class="i0">He dyed, and left</div>
<div class="i10">An "only Son."</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/img191.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="345" alt="illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_180" id="Page_180">180</SPAN></span></p>
<h2> <SPAN name="THE_POLIS_AND_THE_PRINCESS_GRANA_UILLE"></SPAN>THE POLIS AND THE PRINCESS GRANAUILLE</h2>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo192a.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="379" alt="illustration" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo192b.jpg" width-obs="228" height-obs="123" alt="illustration" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="prose begin">
<p>THE man who confidently seeks to
set up a new idea, by upsetting an old
theory, or tradition, is one who lives
in advance of his time, whereby he forfeits
many valued amenities of contemporaneous
courtesy. But he is to be extolled for the moral heroism
that impells him, to advance new facts, into the study of
history, or explode errors so steadfastly grounded on the popular belief, that
he finds himself, pen to pen with a hostile army of Savants, Antiquarians,
Historians, and Critics: some stirred with spirit of envy, others with a
craving for notoriety, but all unanimous, and up in arms, with loaded pens
and arsenal of inkpots.</p>
<p>In this regard I find myself, by placing the correct revision of a popular
tradition before my discerning readers.</p>
<p>I have to confess that it was not thro' deep and industrious research,
that I am thus enabled to challenge the truth, of the accepted records.</p>
<p>It was thro' the chance, afforded by an hour of breezing sea-scape
recreation, that I discovered the mysterious chronicle.</p>
<p>The popular tradition, is thus related by Dr. Walsh. "The celebrated
Grana Uille or Grace O'Mally, noted for her piratical depredations in the
reign of Elizabeth, returning on a certain time from England, where she
had paid a visit to the Queen, landed at Howth, and proceeded to the
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_181" id="Page_181">181</SPAN></span>castle. It was the hour of dinner—but the gates were shut. Shocked at an
exclusion so repugnant to her notions of Irish hospitality, she immediately
proceeded to the shore, where the young lord was at nurse, and seizing the
child, she embarked with, and sailed to Connaught, where her own castle
stood.</p>
<p>After a time, however, she restored the child; with the express stipulation,
that the gates should be thrown open, when the family went to dinner—a
practice which is observed to this day."</p>
</div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">WHEN the Hill of Howth was covered, by a city great, and grand,</div>
<div class="i0">And nuggets still were gathered, like cockles on the strand;</div>
<div class="i0">On the shore, around by Sutton, a children's maid was met,</div>
<div class="i0">Who was wheeling of a baby, in a sky blue bassinet.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">And as that maiden cycled that infant by the sea,</div>
<div class="i0">Down the boreen from the Bailey, came number 90 B;</div>
<div class="i0">And he sudden lit his eye on, he sudden had her set,</div>
<div class="i0">That slavey, with the baby, in the sky blue bassinet.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He held aloft his baton, saluted like a man,</div>
<div class="i0">Said he "I'm almost certain, you're name is Mary Anne,</div>
<div class="i0">The sergeant up the boreen, in the distance there is gone,</div>
<div class="i0">We'll make the distance greater, if you and I move on.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">For fifty years I've ambushed, and watched around me bate,</div>
<div class="i0">But never met a sweetheart, that took me so complate,</div>
<div class="i0">And what's a bate? it's nothin' to a polis, whin he's gone!</div>
<div class="i0">I'm gone on you me darlin', let you and I move on."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"O hoky smoke! avourneen, I never seen yer like,</div>
<div class="i0">As sure's me name is Dooley, with the christian name of Mike,</div>
<div class="i0">I sware it, by this number, on my collar, which you see,</div>
<div class="i0">I'm shockin' fond of you agra," said No. 90 B.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_182" id="Page_182">182</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">He took that trusting maiden, to the adjacent strand,</div>
<div class="i0">"A punt is on the shingles, convaynient here to hand,</div>
<div class="i0">Put the bassinet into it," said the blue official fox,</div>
<div class="i0">"We'll go and look for winkles, thro' seaweed on the rocks."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Now whether or for winkles, or what it was they went,</div>
<div class="i0">They stayed away much longer than was their first intent,</div>
<div class="i0">A thoughtless time, that stranded them in a piteous plight,</div>
<div class="i0">The tide was in, O Moses! the punt was out of sight.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Upon that woeful morning, the fact we may not shunt,</div>
<div class="i0">The little Lord St. Lawrence, was kidnapped by a punt,</div>
<div class="i0">And reverbrated wailings, of his nurse is echoed still,</div>
<div class="i0">With oathings of the polis, around Ben Heder hill!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">But then it struck that polis, a hopeful thought of mark,</div>
<div class="i0">And to the weeping servant, he muttered, "Whist! an' hark!"</div>
<div class="i0">Then put his index finger, abaft his coral nose,</div>
<div class="i0">"Howld on! I'll go, an' square it, I've got a schame, here goes!"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">The crafty rogue departed, and told the specious tale,</div>
<div class="i0">Of how the child was stolen by the Princess Granauille,</div>
<div class="i0">He told the weeping mother, he almost thought he knew,</div>
<div class="i0">From information he received, that he had got a clew,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">When Granauille was challenged, it struck her, she could make</div>
<div class="i0">A profitable bargain, in re her nephew's sake,</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas just before his teething; his nose was but a blob,</div>
<div class="i0">Like every other baby's, so she could work the job.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_183" id="Page_183">183</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">As tourist come from Connaught, she owned that it befel,</div>
<div class="i0">That she had left her galley, to find a cheap hotel,</div>
<div class="i0">But when she reached the castle, with appetite, it shocked</div>
<div class="i0">Her, when she found the outer door, at dinner time was locked!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">She thought it mean, and stingy, the child she lifted then—</div>
<div class="i0">And told that subtle polis, she'd give the child again,</div>
<div class="i0">In safety to its father, if he would leave the door,</div>
<div class="i0">At dinner, always open, on the latch for evermore.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Upon Lord Howth, she fathered her nephew in this way,</div>
<div class="i0">That he might be ancestor of Viscount Howth to-day,</div>
<div class="i0">And if you want a dinner, I'll give you all a tip,</div>
<div class="i0">There's just a fleeting moment, I've always let it slip,—</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">The minute hand records it, upon the castle clock,</div>
<div class="i0">And if you're up that moment, you have no need to knock,</div>
<div class="i0">Walk in, the door is open, and make "a hearty male,"</div>
<div class="i0">And thank that crafty polis, and the Princess Granauille.</div>
</div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo195.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="191" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">And now about the baby, his voyaging began,</div>
<div class="i0">Before he'd had his teething, and still he's not a man,</div>
<div class="i0">He's yet a child! whose ravings Across the ocean flew,</div>
<div class="i0">Of "Who am I? and where am I? and what am I to do?"</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_184" id="Page_184">184</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">He's never grown a whisker, he's never known a beard!</div>
<div class="i0">Of hair upon the cranium, he never yet has heard!</div>
<div class="i0">And so he is not altered, he's still in statu quo,</div>
<div class="i0">As bald and snub, and chubby, as three hundred years ago!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Three hundred years are over, and lo! he's living yet,</div>
<div class="i0">He made a sleeping cabin, from the sky blue bassinet,</div>
<div class="i0">He made the punt commodious, with wreckage that he found,</div>
<div class="i0">But of a human sinner, he's never heard a sound!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He lives without a purpose, an object or intent,</div>
<div class="i0">Three hundred years of waiting, in ignorance are spent,</div>
<div class="i0">He lives; and for this reason, because he never knew,</div>
<div class="i0">Of who he is, or where he is, or what he is to do!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He never saw a sailor! he never hailed a sail!</div>
<div class="i0">The pensive penguin harkened unto his lonely wail;</div>
<div class="i0">The albatross did follow he shrieked him for the clew,</div>
<div class="i0">"O who am I? and where am I? and what am I to do?"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He pleaded to the swallow, and Mother Cary's chicks,</div>
<div class="i0">Of his expatriation, and in his devilish fix,</div>
<div class="i0">Besought the mild octopus, and all the ocean crew,</div>
<div class="i0">"O who am I? and where am I? and what am I to do?"</div>
</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo196.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="103" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He hailed the great sea serpent, the comprehensive whale,</div>
<div class="i0">The flying fish, to answer, the burden of his wail,</div>
<div class="i0">Of what the deuce had happened, that life was all so blue!</div>
<div class="i0">"O who am I? and where am I? and what am I to do?"</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_185" id="Page_185">185</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">He is not dead, it's certain, I'll merely mention here,</div>
<div class="i0">He may be in mid ocean, or yet he may be near,</div>
<div class="i0">The north wall boat may hail him, it's prophesied that yet,</div>
<div class="i0">Hell be thrown up at Sutton, in the sky blue bassinet.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Be watching all the papers; for soon or late some day,</div>
<div class="i0">In leaded type, you'll see it, and with a big display</div>
<div class="i0">Of capitals above it, of claimant, who will know,</div>
<div class="i0">Of what to do, and do it, and one who'll have to go!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Now most of you will question, the record I recite,</div>
<div class="i0">To clear your doubts upon it, I think it's only right,</div>
<div class="i0">To tell you, I was searching for cockles at Blackrock,</div>
<div class="i0">When lo! my heart was fluttered with interesting shock!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I saw a feeding bottle, that lay upon the strand,</div>
<div class="i0">I stooped anon and gripped it, with sympathetic hand,</div>
<div class="i0">I thought it might be jetsam, of baby that was drowned,</div>
<div class="i0">But looking thro' the bottle, a manuscript I found.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">And there in broken Irish, it states the fact, that he</div>
<div class="i0">Had sealed it in his bottle, and still he's on the sea,</div>
<div class="i0">With anxious intimation, that yet he seeks the clew,</div>
<div class="i0">Of who he is? and where he is? and what he is to do?</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo197.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="140" alt="MARVELOUS RELIC, A MESSAGE FROM THE C——" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="A_HORROR_OF" id="A_HORROR_OF">A HORROR OF LONDON TOWN.</SPAN></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/198.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="118" alt="A Horror of London Town" /></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_186" id="Page_186">186</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">O</div>N London streets by a gin shop door,</div>
<div class="i5">In the blaze of a noontide sun,</div>
<div class="i0">With horrible zest of a thirst for gore,</div>
<div class="i5">Was a desperate murder done,</div>
<div class="i0">On the sainted flags of a Christian town,</div>
<div class="i5">I saw this outrage planned,</div>
<div class="i0">And three little boys, in crime, sere brown</div>
<div class="i5">Were there with a helping hand.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">'Twas a group of seven—I counted them all,</div>
<div class="i5">A group of seven strong men,</div>
<div class="i0">And summing them up, with the criminals small,</div>
<div class="i5">Their total I think was ten,</div>
<div class="i0">With umbrellas, and sticks, and stones,</div>
<div class="i5">They hunted a sad wretch down,</div>
<div class="i0">Mid random of kicks, and ogerous groans,</div>
<div class="i5">A shame unto London town!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">But while was fought the unequal fight,</div>
<div class="i5">That murder of ten to one,</div>
<div class="i0">There came an ominous venger of right,</div>
<div class="i5">They call him a copper for fun,</div>
<div class="i0">And I said he'll be pulling the lot of them; then</div>
<div class="i5">The villians ha! ha! shall see</div>
<div class="i0">There are dungeons dark for the murderous ten,</div>
<div class="i5">In the walls of the Old Bailee!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_187" id="Page_187">187</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">But no! He paused, and he gravely stood,</div>
<div class="i5">And the never a stir, stirred he,</div>
<div class="i0">As he saw them compass the deed of blood,</div>
<div class="i5">To its end with a ghastly glee,</div>
<div class="i0">And O 'twas pity to hear the tones,</div>
<div class="i5">Of the suppliant's voice in pain,</div>
<div class="i0">As he sought to fly from the sticks and stones,</div>
<div class="i5">And the yells of "Hit, hit him again!"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">A drayman flourished the butt of his whip,</div>
<div class="i5">I am sure it was loaded with lead,</div>
<div class="i0">And his laugh was wild, as a terrible clip,</div>
<div class="i5">He aimed at the victim's head!</div>
<div class="i0">Alas! too sure, by the jugular vein,</div>
<div class="i5">He was struck, and he dropped and died,</div>
<div class="i0">And the drayman shook, as he laughed amain,</div>
<div class="i5">For blood was the caitiff's pride!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">But O I proved, ere I wandered home,</div>
<div class="i5">There yet was a friend most true,</div>
<div class="i0">Who bore the corse to a silent tomb,</div>
<div class="i5">Ah! yes, and embalmed it too,</div>
<div class="i0">A kind purveyor came walking by,</div>
<div class="i5">And he stopped on the edge of the flag,</div>
<div class="i0">Then turned to his boy, and exclaimed with a sigh,</div>
<div class="i5">"Jim, slip the dead rat in your bag."</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo199.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="31" alt="illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="A_Confidential" id="A_Confidential">A CONFIDENTIAL SONNET</SPAN></h2>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_188" id="Page_188">188</SPAN></span></p>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo200.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="268" alt="A Confidential Sonnet" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo200b.jpg" width-obs="263" height-obs="267" alt="I" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><span class="hide">I</span>
MET him one night there,</div>
<div class="i0">North east of Leicester Square,</div>
<div class="i0">Within about a quarter of a mile,</div>
<div class="i0">"I've confidence," said he,</div>
<div class="i0">"In all humanity,</div>
<div class="i0">I'll leave my bloomin' purse with thee awhile!"</div>
<div class="i0">He left it, went away</div>
<div class="i0">Then coming back, "I say,"</div>
<div class="i2">Said he, with an insinuating smile,</div>
<div class="i0">"Now lend your watch to me,</div>
<div class="i2">For I am like yourself without no guile,"</div>
<div class="i0">He took it, went away,</div>
<div class="i0">And from that evil day,</div>
<div class="i0">I keep that man's description on my file.</div>
</div></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="A_TRAM_CAR_GHOST"></SPAN>A TRAM CAR GHOST.</h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo201.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="228" alt="A Tram Car Ghost" /></div>
<div class="prose">
<p>THE last car at night, is a vehicle laden with varied symptoms of
mysterious hauntings that more or less oppress the fares, some toned down
by the lassitude of overwork, drop gratefully into their seats, and quickly
fall into fitful slumber, others seem to court a spasmodic notoriety by loud
and disjointed converse. A weary of world expression clouds the features
of a few with an unuttered protest, for the disagreeable fact of their birth,
whilst others seem by their grumpy glances to suggest a jealous objection
to other people's existence.</p>
<p>A select few, unconsciously advertise a flippant gratification at the
possession of life, and squeeze festivity from it, as colour from a blue rag.
But all are haunted with the mysterious workings of unseen spirits, that
usually accompany the fares, in the latest car at night.</p>
</div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">T</div>HERE wasn't a soul in the tramway car,</div>
<div class="i8">Well not that myself could see,</div>
<div class="i0">But the sad conductor took my arm,</div>
<div class="i8">And steadfast gazed on me—</div>
<div class="i0">Then pointing up to the corner seat,</div>
<div class="i8">"Look! that's his regular game,</div>
<div class="i0">I'm sorry to have it to say of a ghost,</div>
<div class="i8">But he hasn't a tint of shame!"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">You'll think the tram conductor was drunk,</div>
<div class="i8">His breath was sweet as mine,</div>
<div class="i0">Like the orris root, or a tint of mint,</div>
<div class="i8">Or scent of a similar line.</div>
<div class="i0">It might be a ginger cordial; but</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_190" id="Page_190">190</SPAN></span>
<div class="i8">The air of the night was strong,</div>
<div class="i0">And it wouldn't be proper to say I'm sure,</div>
<div class="i8">I might perhaps be wrong.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Will you slack?" said I, but he caught my arm</div>
<div class="i8">"The man that I killed is there!</div>
<div class="i0">I hate to have it to say. But no,</div>
<div class="i8">I can't recover my fare!</div>
<div class="i0">I asked it from him one winter's night,</div>
<div class="i8">But full as a tick with drink,</div>
<div class="i0">The only answer he gave to me,</div>
<div class="i8">Was just a chuckle and wink.</div>
<div class="i0">With this American tink-a-ting,</div>
<div class="i8">I couldn't defraud the Co.,</div>
<div class="i0">So caught his collar, and chucked him off</div>
<div class="i8">The back of the tram car, so.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">There wasn't a soul that saw the deed,</div>
<div class="i8">Not even the driver knew,</div>
<div class="i0">And there he lay on the tramway track,</div>
<div class="i8">Till the townward car was due.</div>
<div class="i0">It broke his neck, and his shoulder blade,</div>
<div class="i8">His legs, and arms, its broke,</div>
<div class="i0">And laid him out, a squirming trout,</div>
<div class="i8">'Twas then he awoke, and spoke!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Said he, "What's up? is the dancing done?</div>
<div class="i8">The waltz has made me sore!"</div>
<div class="i0">And wriggling out on the frosty ground,</div>
<div class="i8">He never spoke no more!</div>
<div class="i0">Heigho! the murder was caused by me,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_191" id="Page_191">191</SPAN></span>
<div class="i8">Was never a soul who knew,</div>
<div class="i0">That I am the man, who chucked the man,</div>
<div class="i8">That the townward tram car slew!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">And everybody on earth was done</div>
<div class="i8">With the murdered man, but me!</div>
<div class="i0">The very next night, in the corner seat,</div>
<div class="i8">I looked, and there was he!</div>
<div class="i0">I thought at first that he might be a twin,</div>
<div class="i8">And asked his thruppeny fare,</div>
<div class="i0">But he sneered at me, I turned away,</div>
<div class="i8">And left him sneering there!</div>
<div class="i0">Thinks I, I'll watch him, and jot my tot,</div>
<div class="i8">And when he is goin' to go,</div>
<div class="i0">I'll chuck him the same, as I did before,</div>
<div class="i8">For sake of the tramway co.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I calculated the list of fares,</div>
<div class="i8">Then turned around to look,</div>
<div class="i0">But hey! I'm blowed, if he hadn't gone off,</div>
<div class="i8">Gone! with his bloomin' hook!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">But how it was done, or whither he went,</div>
<div class="i8">I never could guess, or think,</div>
<div class="i0">For the ventilators all were shut,</div>
<div class="i8">There wasn't an open chink!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">And I was up at the door so tight,</div>
<div class="i8">He couldn't have passed me by,</div>
<div class="i0">I never did close an eye that night,</div>
<div class="i8">No lid of a bloomin' eye!</div>
<div class="i0">I hates to see the company done,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_192" id="Page_192">192</SPAN></span>
<div class="i8">And that was a cheated fare,</div>
<div class="i0">I'd rather lose my regular meals,</div>
<div class="i8">Than wrong the company, there!</div>
<div class="i0">I'd rather work from ante M, six</div>
<div class="i8">Till three of the A.M. clock,</div>
<div class="i0">Than wrong the tramway co. of a coin,</div>
<div class="i8">That wasn't my legal stock.</div>
<div class="i0">There's nobody sees the ghost but me,</div>
<div class="i8">Because he's a sneaking sprite,</div>
<div class="i0">He always comes when I take my turn</div>
<div class="i8">On the latest car at night.</div>
<div class="i0">That's him! he's there in the corner seat,</div>
<div class="i8">The man that I killed is there,</div>
<div class="i0">I hate to have it to say, But no,</div>
<div class="i8">I can't recover my fare!</div>
<div class="i0">I've this American tink-a-ting,</div>
<div class="i8">And tickets of sortin's three,</div>
<div class="i0">But that embezzling raw will come</div>
<div class="i8">To cheat, and sneer at me.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I cawnt tell why, but he worry's me so,</div>
<div class="i8">I'd collar him if I could,</div>
<div class="i0">He hasn't a scruff, or any a crop,</div>
<div class="i8">O' the neck, or flesh or blood,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He hasn't a waistband, I could grip,</div>
<div class="i8">Nor anythink I could kick,</div>
<div class="i0">I'd like to fetch him a trip, but ah!</div>
<div class="i8">To think of it, makes me sick</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_193" id="Page_193">193</SPAN></span><div class="i0">He hasn't a face, to black his eye,</div>
<div class="i8">Or even a hat to block,</div>
<div class="i0">But all the same, in the corner there,</div>
<div class="i8">He gives the fares a shock!</div>
<div class="i0">He dosses himself in the favourite seat,</div>
<div class="i8">And while he's nestlin' there,</div>
<div class="i0">The passengers cawnt shove up to the end,</div>
<div class="i8">To make my regular fare.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">For some insist that the seat is cold!</div>
<div class="i8">And others complain it's hot!</div>
<div class="i0">And some it's damp, and some remark,</div>
<div class="i8">It's a most infernal spot!</div>
<div class="i0">And some keep shovin' their sticks above,</div>
<div class="i8">To let in the atmosphere,</div>
<div class="i0">While others are closin' them up with a curse,</div>
<div class="i8">The thing is devilish queer.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">It's pisonous hard on a man like me,</div>
<div class="i8">Who lives on what he can get,</div>
<div class="i0">But I'll have to try and see if I cawnt,</div>
<div class="i8">Jest manage to shuffle him yet.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Ha! there, he's gone! I knew that he would,</div>
<div class="i8">Waltz out of my bloomin' sight!</div>
<div class="i0">His regular trick with my thruppeny fare,</div>
<div class="i8">Now—jump with the car, good night."</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo205.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="23" alt="illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="MARGATE" id="MARGATE">MARGATE SANDS.</SPAN></h2>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_194" id="Page_194">194</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/206.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="128" alt="Margate Sands" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
<ANTIMG src="images/img206.jpg" width-obs="100" height-obs="185" alt="S" />
HE was five, or six, he four years old,</div>
<div class="i5">When they met on the Margate Sands,</div>
<div class="i0">And he gravely looked in her great blue eyes</div>
<div class="i5">With hold of her little fat hands,</div>
<div class="i0">And he said, "I love oo well Rosie;</div>
<div class="i5">I know, dat I'd rather have oo,</div>
<div class="i0">Dan all de lickel girls on de sands to-day,</div>
<div class="i5">Iss, even dan de girl in blue!"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"I'm glad oo do; and I love oo too!"</div>
<div class="i5">Thro' a heaven of golden hair,</div>
<div class="i0">Like silvery bells, was her sweet response,</div>
<div class="i5">On the ozoned rose lit air,</div>
<div class="i0">And then with his bucket, and spade, he built</div>
<div class="i5">For his love, on the sand, that day,</div>
<div class="i0">A castle, and pie, till the tide came in,</div>
<div class="i5">And washed his castle away.</div>
</div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">In many a year thereafter 'twas,</div>
<div class="i5">In a box in Drury Lane,</div>
<div class="i0">Said a gent, as he used his opera glass,</div>
<div class="i5">"Yon lady's remarkably plain!"</div>
<div class="i0">And the lady exclaimed, at the self-same time,</div>
<div class="i5">When she saw his glass in hand,</div>
<div class="i0">"What an ugly fright!" they did not know,</div>
<div class="i5">They had loved, on the Margate sand!</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="John_Mc_Kune"></SPAN>JOHN MC KUNE</h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo207.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="734" alt="John McKune" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">O PADDY MURPHY—carman of the stand in College Green—</div>
<div class="i0">You've had your sudden ups and downs, and busy days you've seen,</div>
<div class="i0">We're waiting for your story; how the mare struck up the tune,</div>
<div class="i0">Of sparks amongst the gravel, on the road to Knockmaroon.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"O faith an' I may tell you, you will not be waitin' long,</div>
<div class="i0">Whin the piebald mare Asooker, is the sweetheart of me song,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_196" id="Page_196">196</SPAN></span><div class="i0">For sure it was a mastherpiece, of how she dhragged McKune,</div>
<div class="i0">Behind her whiskin' tail, along the road, to Knockmaroon.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">'Twas in the busy period, whin the Fenians wor at war,</div>
<div class="i0">I mopes'd around the Dargle, on a newly painted car;</div>
<div class="i0">Whin, creepin' from the ditches, like a bogey in the moon,</div>
<div class="i0">A man proposed the journey of a dhrive to Knockmaroon.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He might as well have axed me on the minute, for a run,</div>
<div class="i0">To Roosha or to Paykin, or the divil or the sun!</div>
<div class="i0">He might as well have axed me, for a Rocky Mountain jaunt;</div>
<div class="i0">So I bounced him with an answer of the sudden words, "I can't!"</div>
<div class="i0">The boys to-night are risin' an' I darn't go impugn</div>
<div class="i0">Me car into the danger, of a dhrive to Knockmaroon!"</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo208.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="170" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Thin spakin' wid the dacency, of a remorseful tone,</div>
<div class="i0">"In fact," siz I, "me car's engaged, in Bray, by Mick Malone;</div>
<div class="i0">Besides the mare is nervous, an' me wife expects me soon,</div>
<div class="i0">For the army's out, I hear, upon the road to Knockmaroon!"</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_197" id="Page_197">197</SPAN></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He didn't stop to parley, but he jumped upon me car,</div>
<div class="i0">An' showed a livin' pixture, of the brakin' of the war,</div>
<div class="i0">By pointin' a revolver at me nose! "I'm John McKune,</div>
<div class="i0">Dhrive on," siz he, "I'll guard you on the road to Knockmaroon!"</div>
<div class="i0">I never knew that powdher smelt so flamin' strong before,</div>
<div class="i0">It smelt as if a whole review, was stinkin' from the bore!</div>
<div class="i0">The steel of that revolver shone, like bayonets in the moon,</div>
<div class="i0">Of all the British army on the road to Knockmaroon!</div>
<div class="i0">An' hauntin' round its barrel, the ghosts of every sin,</div>
<div class="i0">I done in all me life before, wor there, in thick an' thin!</div>
<div class="i0">So like a fiddler in a fight I quickly changed me tune,</div>
<div class="i0">"Bedad!" siz I, "It's I'm yer man, we're off to Knockmaroon."</div>
<div class="i0">"You see, I've got a takin' way," says he, an' with a grin,</div>
<div class="i0">He put his barker back into his breeches fob, agin,</div>
<div class="i0">"Now whail around, an' thro' the bog,—the featherbed,"—says he,</div>
<div class="i0">"I'll guard you, by the barracks of the Polis, at Glencree,</div>
<div class="i0">An' dhrive, as if yer car was late, to bring the Royal Mail!</div>
<div class="i0">Whip up! as if the divil sat upon your horse's tail!"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I gev the mare a coaxer, of the knots upon me whip,</div>
<div class="i0">An' rowlin thro' the darkness, where the road begins to dip,</div>
<div class="i0">I bowled upon me journey, with the load of John McKune,</div>
<div class="i0">An' fits of wondher, why he dhrove that night to Knockmaroon;</div>
<div class="i0">An' just as we were wheelin' out, beyond the feather bed,</div>
<div class="i0">The boys put up their lamplight, an' alightin' down, he said</div>
<div class="i0">Some hurried words an' whisperin's, then with a cheer for him,</div>
<div class="i0">Presentin' arms, "Dhrive on," they cried, "God speed you Wicklow Jim!"</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_198" id="Page_198">198</SPAN></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I dhrove as if the Phooka was the horse beneath me whip,</div>
<div class="i0">We flew, as if the jauntin' car was on a racin' thrip,</div>
<div class="i0">We scatthered dust, an' whizz of wheels, an' sparks upon the air,</div>
<div class="i0">When all at once, I pulled her up, at shout of "Who comes there?"</div>
<div class="i0">It was a throop of sojers, an' me heart began to croon,</div>
<div class="i0">Wid jigs, aginst me overcoat! siz he, "I'm John McKune,"—</div>
<div class="i0">He sprang from off the cushion, an' a little while was gone,</div>
<div class="i0">Then comin' back, a captain gev the password, to dhrive on!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He leaped upon the car again, an' says to me, once more,</div>
<div class="i0">"Now, dhrive me 'cross the grand canal, and on to Inchicore,"</div>
<div class="i0">But when we got around a turn, an' in a lonely place,</div>
<div class="i0">He whipped his waypon out again, to point it at me face!</div>
<div class="i0">Siz he, "Yer car is weighty, an' yerself's a dacent bulk,</div>
<div class="i0">You say the mare is nervous, an' she might begin to sulk;</div>
<div class="i0">We mustn't let that meddle with the work that I've in hand,</div>
<div class="i0">So skip your perch this minute, like a lark, at my command,</div>
<div class="i0">Come, hop yer twig, unyoke her, in a slippy lightenin' crack!</div>
<div class="i0">Just double up that rug, an' sthrap it tight across her back,</div>
<div class="i0">An' shorten up the reins, an' swop yer overcoat an' hat,</div>
<div class="i0">Quick! flutther up, as if you wor a blackbird from a cat!"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I never felt so brave, in all me life, me courage rose,</div>
<div class="i0">To bid him go to blakers!—but the barrel at me nose,</div>
<div class="i0">Brought down me heart like wallop, till I felt it, in me brogue,</div>
<div class="i0">An' so I done his dirty work, the ugly thievin' rogue!</div>
<div class="i0">I loosed the crather from the shafts, and sthrapped the rug, an' then,</div>
<div class="i0">He vaulted on her back, an' faced her up the road again,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_199" id="Page_199">199</SPAN></span><div class="i0">"You'll find her in the mornin', on the grass in Phœnix Park,"</div>
<div class="i0">He shouted, as with skelpin' whip, he galloped thro' the dark,</div>
<div class="i0">An' left me cursin' in a fit, beside me sthranded yoke,</div>
<div class="i0">As if I got the headache of a mapoplectic sthroke!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Next night, whin I was frettin', that I'd never see her more,</div>
<div class="i0">I heard the mare Asooker's hoof, beside the stable door;</div>
<div class="i0">I darted out, she kissed me, with a whinney loud and long,</div>
<div class="i0">That made her ever afther, as the sweetheart of me song!</div>
</div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">When fifteen years wor over, an' meself was down in Cork,</div>
<div class="i0">I read it on a paper,—in the Bowry of New York,—</div>
<div class="i0">Of a pub around a corner, where a lonely man in June,</div>
<div class="i0">Was sittin', when two men came in, says they, "you're John McKune!"</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo211.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="217" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He dhropped his glass of cock-tail, with a crash upon the floor;</div>
<div class="i0">And looked, as if he'd jump the sash, of window, or the door,</div>
<div class="i0">He looked, as if he'd rather be in Hell, or on the moon;</div>
<div class="i0">Said they, "At last we have you, for a traitor, John McKune!"</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_200" id="Page_200">200</SPAN></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He didn't spake an answer, but he quickly thried to grip,</div>
<div class="i0">The bright revolver waypon, from the fob, behind his hip,</div>
<div class="i0">He hadn't time to dhraw it, like a flashin' lightenin' dart,</div>
<div class="i0">Two loaded levelled weapons, wor against his jumpin' heart!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Hands up!" they shouted "Damn you! ye scaymin' divil's limb;</div>
<div class="i0">We've come to scotch the serpent, we know as Wicklow Jim,"</div>
<div class="i0">Said they, "At last we have you for oaths you gave to men,</div>
<div class="i0">An' swore them for your purpose, to bethray, an' sell them then!"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He didn't make an answer, but he thried to whip a knife,</div>
<div class="i0">From collar of his cota—it was there to guard his life—</div>
<div class="i0">He hadn't time to dhraw it, for a crack of shots! an' soon,</div>
<div class="i0">A pool of blood, was spurtin' from the corpse of John McKune.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo212.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="214" alt="illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="ILL_GO_FOR_A_SOJER"></SPAN>I'LL GO FOR A SOJER.</h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo213.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="209" alt="I'll go for a Sojer" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">"O</div> WHERE is my Johnnie acushla?" says she,</div>
<div class="i10">He left me last night, an' "Maggie" says he,</div>
<div class="i0">"It's meself an' yerself mam that couldn't agree,</div>
<div class="i10">Be dang but I'll go for a sojer!"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He took all the cash that I had in the till,</div>
<div class="i0">I followed him round to the butt of the hill,</div>
<div class="i0">"Go back, or yerself is the first that I'll kill!"</div>
<div class="i10">Says he, "Whin I'm gone for a sojer!"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I hung to his neck, an' I axed him to stay,</div>
<div class="i0">Ye might as well ax for the night to be day;</div>
<div class="i0">But wringin' his neck from me, shoutin' "Hooray!"</div>
<div class="i10">Says he "Whoo! I'll go for a sojer!"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I set the dog afther him, thought that he'd stick</div>
<div class="i0">In the tail of his coat, he was up to the thrick;</div>
<div class="i0">For he turned on his heel, an' he skelped him a lick,</div>
<div class="i10">Of the stick, "I am off for a sojer!"</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_202" id="Page_202">202</SPAN></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"O whisht! arrah there, look he's comin'!" she cried,</div>
<div class="i0">As far in the distance, her Jack she espied,</div>
<div class="i0">With Corporal Quirk on the march by his side,</div>
<div class="i10">He's comin' back home with a sojer.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">When Johnnie came near enough to her to spake,</div>
<div class="i0">"O Johnnie Avourneen!" said she, "did ye take</div>
<div class="i0">The shillin'?" "No faith, for I'm too wide awake,</div>
<div class="i10">I only wint off for a sojer."</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo214.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="17" alt="illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="ODE_HERE" id="ODE_HERE">ODE HERE!</SPAN></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/214.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="72" alt="Ode Here" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">I</div> DYED away the grey, from my sparsy head of hair,</div>
<div class="i10">I buttered up the fur upon my tile,</div>
<div class="i0">I darned the ventilators in my garments here, and there,</div>
<div class="i10">And with my go-to-meeting stick, and smile,</div>
<div class="i0">I went to see a widow, I had courted long ago;</div>
<div class="i10">She had just been to the Probate for a pile!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Said she, "You are a person that I really do not know"</div>
<div class="i10">Her tone was rather cutting, like a file!</div>
<div class="i10">A serious alteration in her style;</div>
<div class="i10">I knew her when a maiden without guile,</div>
<div class="i10">She wouldn't even loan me from her pile,</div>
<div class="i10">A widow's mite; it agitates my bile!</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="The_Smugglers" id="The_Smugglers">THE SMUGGLER'S FATE</SPAN></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo215.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="575" alt="The smuggler's fate" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">A Seaside Idyll this;</div>
<div class="i0">To teach how oft amiss,</div>
<div class="i0">Doth fall the fate of men</div>
<div class="i3">who would be free:</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">It makes me cry heigho,</div>
<div class="i3">In minor cadence low,</div>
<div class="i0">When I do mind me</div>
<div class="i3">Of the fate of three,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i3">To shun hymenial perils,</div>
<div class="i3">And tired of mashing girls,</div>
<div class="i0">A smuggler's cave, they took beside the sea,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_204" id="Page_204">204</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">And formed a reckless crew,</div>
<div class="i0">That swallowed their own brew,</div>
<div class="i3">Of whiskey, punch and coffee, beer and tea;</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo216.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="336" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i3">But most of beer, and whiskey, as you see,</div>
<div class="i0">And that's the reason that I cry heigho!</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo217a.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="312" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_205" id="Page_205">205</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">They wrestled with the wave,</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo217b.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="224" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i2">Then ran into their cave;</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo218.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="385" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_206" id="Page_206">206</SPAN></span>
<div class="i5">But telescopes above, were taking stock,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i5">Thus fate was on their track,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i5">And soon alas! alack!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">The smiles of fate fell on them from the rock,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_207" id="Page_207">207</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">Thus mesmerised by mirth,</div>
<div class="i0">They climbed the rocks, and earth,</div>
<div class="i5">With fascinated recklessness alack!</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo219.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="564" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">My sympathy to show,</div>
<div class="i0">Again I say heigho!</div>
<div class="i5">'Twere better to their cave they had gone back.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_208" id="Page_208">208</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">Ah! me, the smugglers three,</div>
<div class="i0">Were blind their fate to see,</div>
<div class="i5">And lo! capitulation followed soon;</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo220.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="361" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">For spite of all their pains,</div>
<div class="i0">They soon were in the chains,</div>
<div class="i5">That fettered them in bondage 'neath the moon,</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo221.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="416" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_209" id="Page_209">209</SPAN></span>
<div class="i5">That shone on double case, of treble spoon;</div>
<div class="i0">Too like the moon, that wanes;</div>
<div class="i0">And that is why I sing in minor tune,</div>
<div class="i5">And cry again with sympathy, heigho!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_210" id="Page_210">210</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">Thus ever day by day,</div>
<div class="i0">In bondage still they lay,</div>
<div class="i5">Surrendering provisions, and their brew,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_211" id="Page_211">211</SPAN></span></div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo222.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="396" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Until the crew did go</div>
<div class="i0">Into the town, and lo!</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo223.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="373" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i5">A parson had some triple work to do,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_212" id="Page_212">212</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">They're captives now,</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo224.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="287" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i2">hard labour is their due,</div>
<div class="i2">Alack! the hapless crew;</div>
<div class="i0">I cry again with sympathy, heigho!</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="THE_LATE" id="THE_LATE">THE LATE FITZ-BINKS.</SPAN></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/225.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="126" alt="The Late Fitz-Binks" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">I</div>T was about an hour they call the small, and the mysterious,</div>
<div class="i5">An hour wherein the ghosts are wont to take their constitutional,</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas twenty-four o'clock; an hour that's oftimes deleterious</div>
<div class="i5">To many a liver wetted swell, pugnacious or emotional.</div>
<div class="i0">The beggared corporation lights, did flick in the nor'wester gale,</div>
<div class="i5">That blistering nose, and finger-tips, were loaded well with sleet,</div>
<div class="i0">When Binks harrangued a constable, "Good night, it's cold, you're looking pale,"</div>
<div class="i5">From where he backed a lamp-post, at the end of Brunswick Street.</div>
<div class="i0">"Ah! Sergeant," said Fitz-Binks, "It's late, or I could treat you decently,</div>
<div class="i5">And 'twouldn't be too dusty, if we had a flying drink;</div>
<div class="i0">But Chap, of Vic., is strict, they passed in Parliament so recently,"</div>
<div class="i5">The bobbie was a thirsty one, he winked a thirsty wink.</div>
<div class="i0">"Ha! ha!" said Binks, "You know the lines, so don't be too particular,</div>
<div class="i5">There's some back door that's open," said the constable, "you're right;</div>
<div class="i0">Just move an' there thro' yondher lane an' hide up perpendicular,</div>
<div class="i5">Beyant the lamp, I'll folly whin there's nobody in sight."</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_214" id="Page_214">214</SPAN></span><div class="i0">The thing was managed gracefully, and with an open sesamè,</div>
<div class="i5">The constable had stolen to a quiet bar with Binks,</div>
<div class="i0">Produced a clay, said he, "I hope yer honor won't think less of me,</div>
<div class="i5">To pull a pipe," "By Jove! I don't," said Binks, and bought the drinks.</div>
<div class="i0">The moment was so contraband, it gave unto that liquor bar,</div>
<div class="i5">A zest, he asked the constable to take another neat,</div>
<div class="i0">But lifting out his ticker, says the bobbie, "Well be quick or 'gar!</div>
<div class="i5">The sergeant might come whop on me! he's out upon his beat."</div>
<div class="i0">The constable decanted it, said he, "Howld on until I look,</div>
<div class="i5">Now fly!" said he, and while they dived again into the night,</div>
<div class="i0">He fished from out his overcoat, and deftly in his mouth he stuck,</div>
<div class="i5">A friendly lump of orris root, to make his breath all right.</div>
<div class="i0">That bobbie was a wily one, the act was rather opportune,</div>
<div class="i5">For they had scarcely managed to get half-way up the gut</div>
<div class="i0">When he was made aware that he must coin a whited whopper soon,</div>
<div class="i5">For hark! it was the tramping of the sergeant's heavy foot!</div>
<div class="i0">Said he, "We must dissimble, or I'm ruined, and a shapable,</div>
<div class="i5">Excuse I'll have to make!" * * *</div>
<div class="i0">* * * "What brings the two of you down here?"</div>
<div class="i0">"I'm makin' just a Pres'ner, Sir, he's dhrunk, an' he's incapable,"</div>
<div class="i5">Exclaimed the bobbie, gripping Binks, just under Binks's ear!</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas somewhat ominous for Binks, though he protested not, he chewed</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_215" id="Page_215">215</SPAN></span><div class="i0">The cud of thought, until he saw that sergeant out of sight;</div>
<div class="i0">He had not comprehended yet, the patronising turpitude</div>
<div class="i5">Of bobbies, who will take a treat, "well now," said he, "good night,"</div>
<div class="i0">But spake that constable, said he, "good night is best for you, ye see,</div>
<div class="i5">But it won't answer now for me, I darn't let you go,</div>
<div class="i0">It's quietly, and aisily, and dacently, you'll come wid me,</div>
<div class="i5">Yer dhrunk, an' yer incapable! I towld the sergeant so."</div>
<div class="i0">Fitz-Binks fell plump in mire of doubt, 'twas shocking! thus to realize,</div>
<div class="i5">Such treachery, and subterfuge, of ingrate sneak of sin,</div>
<div class="i0">But 60 X was bigger in his figure, by a deal of size,</div>
<div class="i5">And little Binks, was little, so the bobbie ran him in!</div>
<div class="i0">The sergeant,—he who took the charge—was grave, and staid, particular!</div>
<div class="i5">He entered Binks upon his book, and sent him to the cell,</div>
<div class="i0">And Binks did forfeit half a sov., for standing perpendicular,</div>
<div class="i5">Before the Beak, and leaving court, he cursed that bobbie well!</div>
<div class="i0">He said the act was scandalous, and of the gutter order, he,—</div>
<div class="i5">That bobbie was, "Ah whisht! ye see, an' howld yer tongue, shut up</div>
<div class="i0">It's fond of me, you ought to be, if I swore ye wor disordherly,</div>
<div class="i5">It would have cost ye exthra, or you'd maybe be put up!"</div>
<div class="i0">It used to be a sermonising habit, and methodical,</div>
<div class="i5">To tag a moral story, with a warning at its end</div>
<div class="i0">And bobbie entertainments in the midnight, might be quodical!</div>
<div class="i5">So leave him to his duty, if you'd keep him as a friend.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="A_FUGITIVE" id="A_FUGITIVE">A FUGITIVE KISS.</SPAN></h2>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_216" id="Page_216">216</SPAN></span></p>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo228.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="261" alt="A Fugitive Kiss" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo228b.jpg" width-obs="211" height-obs="327" alt="I" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
<span class="hide">I</span>
WAS on the carpet kneeling,</div>
<div class="i0">And fondly, and with feeling,</div>
<div class="i2">I pressed her metacarpus,</div>
<div class="i8">To my osculating lip,</div>
<div class="i5">When flexor,</div>
<div class="i5">And extensor,</div>
<div class="i2">Of stern Parental censor,</div>
<div class="i2">Incontinent did greet me,</div>
<div class="i8">And took me near the hip!</div>
<div class="i0">I rolled into the fender,</div>
<div class="i0">With broken silk suspender,</div>
<div class="i2">And motive movement sharp, as</div>
<div class="i8">Her Pater gave the tip!</div>
<div class="i2">He didn't back the winner,</div>
<div class="i8">For sport was not his grip.</div>
</div></div>
<div class="prose">
<p>The above brief but touching confession of disastrous failure, recorded
by Timothy Pipkins,—a sporting student of St. Jago's Hospital,—is indicative
of the Nemesis from an offended fate, that frequently foils the
improvident hunter of matrimonial adventure.</p>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="THE_BEDROOM_CURSE_AND_THE_MURDERED_COCKATOO"></SPAN>THE BEDROOM CURSE AND THE MURDERED COCKATOO</h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo229.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="226" alt="The Bedroom Curse" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">T</div>IM DOOLIN was a well known jock, an active sprite, and light and trim,</div>
<div class="i0">And time there was, that jocks did funk, to mount, and run the race with him.</div>
<div class="i0">He won by length, he won by head, he saved the race by nose, and ear,</div>
<div class="i0">Till all the jocks, around their pints, exclaimed the thing was devilish queer.</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/229a.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="93" alt="And The" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">But fortune is a gay coquette; by fickle fortune, Doolin lost,</div>
<div class="i0">Till every one who backed him, soon did find him out a fraud and frost.</div>
<div class="i0">I've seen him lose at Punchestown, I've seen him last, at Baldoyle too,</div>
<div class="i0">At Fairyhouse I've seen him fall—his colours then were black and blue.</div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/229b.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="106" alt="Murdered Cockatoo" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_218" id="Page_218">218</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">He stood and scratched his head amain, beside the stable door one night;</div>
<div class="i0">He had been drinking tints of malt, and felt as he were almost tight.</div>
<div class="i0">A race was on to run next day; he totted up his chance to win,</div>
<div class="i0">When turning thro' the stable-door, he saw a gentleman within!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He thought the thing extremely strange, and asked the man, why he was there,</div>
<div class="i0">And stoutly gave the hint, that he was there, to sneak, and dose the mare.</div>
<div class="i0">The gentleman, he laughed a laugh. "I've backed the beast myself, by gum!</div>
<div class="i0">And you must win, or I will be the loser of a tidy sum."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Well, look," said Doolin, "pon me sowl, I have me doubts that she's in form."</div>
<div class="i0">The stranger glared at Doolin, and with voice, as of a rising storm,</div>
<div class="i0">Accused the jock of practices, that were not meet for honest men,</div>
<div class="i0">And asked him how he won so oft, and could not pass the post again?</div>
<div class="i0">"Well, yis, yer honor, 'pon me faith, it puzzles me the same as you,</div>
<div class="i0">That I can't jerk the horse ahead, and win as once I used to do.</div>
<div class="i0">I never drink before the race. I always pray before I mount:</div>
<div class="i0">And yet I find it's all the same; my prayers have come to no account!"</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_219" id="Page_219">219</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">"I used to curse and swear, but, ah, bedad, my swearing days are done!"</div>
<div class="i0">"Then how on earth could you expect to be the man who could get on?"</div>
<div class="i0">"I may not dare to curse and swear. I have a rich, religious aunt,</div>
<div class="i0">I'm in her will, and I would lose the fortune if I did, and shan't.</div>
<div class="i0">She often heard me curse and swear; but warning me one day, says she:</div>
<div class="i0">'If you go on to curse and swear, I'll have no more to do with thee!</div>
<div class="i0">I've made my will, and left you all my worldly goods, and money, too;</div>
<div class="i0">I've got it written, signed and sealed, so you be careful what you do!'</div>
<div class="i0">I promised her, upon my oath, that I would neither curse nor swear,</div>
<div class="i0">And I have kept my word, and I will keep my word to her, so there!</div>
<div class="i0">She lent to me a cockatoo, and cautioned me, I must not lack,</div>
<div class="i0">To treat him well; he's in the room I occupy, till she comes back."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"Ah, that, indeed. Well, here's a tip: when in the morning you get up,</div>
<div class="i0">Keep cursing all the time you dress, and swear at night, before you sup,</div>
<div class="i0">By this no human ear will catch the oathings that will make you light,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_220" id="Page_220">220</SPAN></span><div class="i0">And take a load from off your mind, and you will win the race—good night."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">That very night when he went home, he slyly locked the bedroom door,</div>
<div class="i0">And up and down around the room he scattered curses, and he swore,</div>
<div class="i0">He cursed before, he cursed behind, he cursed until his face was red,</div>
<div class="i0">By dint of cursing, and at last he stripped, and tumbled into bed.</div>
<div class="i0">Next morning many oaths he made, and sandwiched them with many a curse,</div>
<div class="i0">That sounded weird, and wry, and strange; his oathings they could not possibly be worse.</div>
<div class="i0">He cursed because he had to rise, he cursed to leave the bed so nice,</div>
<div class="i0">And warm, and soft, he cursed because the water was as cold as ice.</div>
<div class="i0">He cursed around the basin-stand, he cursed the water jug, alas!</div>
<div class="i0">The towel and the soap he cursed, with oath that almost broke the glass.</div>
<div class="i0">He cursed a button that was loose, he cursed the thread and needle, new,</div>
<div class="i0">He cursed the irritating starch, he cursed his washerwoman, too.</div>
<div class="i0">He curbed his braces—they were tied with bits of string, that broke in twain,</div>
<div class="i0">He fixed them with a pin; it stuck into his spine—he cursed again;</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_221" id="Page_221">221</SPAN></span><div class="i0">He cursed the postman for his knock—'twas by his tailor he was sent;</div>
<div class="i0">He cursed the landlady who brought the bill; and asked him for the rent.</div>
<div class="i0">Before, behind, above, below, at right or left, he was not loath</div>
<div class="i0">To drop a detonating curse, or fling an alternating oath.</div>
<div class="i0">He cursed the razor and the strop, he cursed the wart upon his nose,</div>
<div class="i0">He cursed his hair that wouldn't grow, he cursed the corns upon his toes.</div>
<div class="i0">He cursed a stud and button-hole that was too big; and in the street,</div>
<div class="i0">He saw a burly constable, and cursed the man upon his beat,</div>
<div class="i0">He cursed the helmet on his head, the number on his collar, too;</div>
<div class="i0">He cursed the stripe upon his arm, his mittens, and his suit of blue.</div>
<div class="i0">He cursed his baton right and left, he cursed it also upside down,</div>
<div class="i0">He cursed him to the county gaol and back again, and into town.</div>
<div class="i0">He cursed the lining of his sleeve, a bottle in his pocket—who</div>
<div class="i0">Had put it there he could not tell—he cursed his aunt, her cockatoo.</div>
<div class="i0">He cursed the laces of his boots, the cockatoo he cursed again,</div>
<div class="i0">Again he swore, unlocked the door, and gaily started for the train.</div>
<div class="i0">Hurrah! he won the race that day, and everything for him went right,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_222" id="Page_222">222</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">And surreptitiously he cursed and swore, and cursed again that night.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">A painful shocking thing, that men should stoop to acts like this, for fame or pelf.</div>
<div class="i0">Thro' all my friends there's not a man would act so shocking but himself.</div>
<div class="i0">His calender grew bright again with fortune's sunlight o'er it cast,</div>
<div class="i0">But there must be an end to such, and retribution comes at last.</div>
<div class="i0">His aunt returned to town again; he gave her back her cockatoo,</div>
<div class="i0">'Twere better he had slain him first; it's what, I think, and so will you.</div>
<div class="i0">One day a mortuary note did come—alas! his aunt was dead!</div>
<div class="i0">He buried her with decent haste, and then her latest will was read.</div>
<div class="i0">But by that testament, he found that he had not been left her purse,</div>
<div class="i0">It intimated this, that he had taught her cockatoo to curse!</div>
<div class="i0">It intimated this, that she thro' that, had met her death, alas;</div>
<div class="i0">And in a codicil expressed a wish they'd send the bird to grass.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">No mortal eye but his, beheld the deed he then essayed to do—</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas murder! for he wrung the neck of his dead aunt, her cockatoo,</div>
<div class="i0">No mortal eye beheld the deed; but things again with him went queer,</div>
<div class="i0">Till one day looking down the street, he saw a stranger prowling near.</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_223" id="Page_223">223</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">The man who told him thus to swear, 'twas on a dark November eve,</div>
<div class="i0">He knew that stranger held a secret stone for him inside his sleeve;</div>
<div class="i0">He knew that he had run a score of heavy debt, was due for sin,</div>
<div class="i0">And darting back, he closed the door. Said he to Bridget "I'm not in.</div>
<div class="i0">Just say that I am out," said he, and quickly up the stairs he flew,</div>
<div class="i0">The stranger knocked. "Ah, let me see," and up the stairs he mounted, too.</div>
<div class="i0">The servant sneaked the key-hole then, and saw a struggle on the bed,</div>
<div class="i0">Then ran below—"Mavrone, asthore, come up, agrah, the lodger's dead!"</div>
</div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">The moral is of gentlemen you do not know, you should beware:</div>
<div class="i0">You should not use your bedroom, for a hiding-place, to curse, and swear.</div>
<div class="i0">To curse a harmless constable upon his beat, is even worse;</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas he who caught the jurymen, who gave the verdict on his corse.</div>
<div class="i0">That shocking room is haunted now; it may not raise a shock in you,</div>
<div class="i0">But every dark November eve, there comes a shrouded cockatoo,</div>
<div class="i0">And gliding in his pallid shirt, a wretched spectre doth rehearse,</div>
<div class="i0">The record of his oathings dire! the cockatoo then shrieks a curse!</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_224" id="Page_224">224</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">The man of easy habits then will see the deadly deed anew,</div>
<div class="i0">Of how the neck was wrung by him, who slew his aunt, her cockatoo.</div>
<div class="i0">The man of easy habits then, will see the evil sprite of gloom,</div>
<div class="i0">Come prowling for his guilty soul, and bear it down the trap of doom.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">The landlady can never make the lodgers in that room content,</div>
<div class="i0">They never stay, beyond the day that she has asked them for the rent,</div>
<div class="i0">But men are not so wicked now; they will not swear an oath for pelf.</div>
<div class="i0">They're much about the same as you—almost exactly like myself.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="A_GUN_SOLO" id="A_GUN_SOLO">A GUN SOLO.</SPAN></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/236.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="75" alt="A Gun Solo" /></div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo236.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="287" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">
BY a lonely dried up fountain,</div>
<div class="i0">In a purple Irish mountain,</div>
<div class="i5">My talk was interesting,</div>
<div class="i5">With a female of that spot,</div>
<div class="i0">When she sprang from off my knees;</div>
<div class="i0">For rasping thro' the trees,</div>
<div class="i5">A bullet stopped our jesting,</div>
<div class="i5">I started at the shot!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"It's my husband's gun!" she murmured,</div>
<div class="i0">I sauntered from the spot!!</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="The_Semi-Grand_Piano" id="The_Semi-Grand_Piano">THE SEMI-GRAND PIANO</SPAN></h2>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo237a.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="311" alt="The semi grand piano" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo237b.jpg" width-obs="114" height-obs="103" alt="I" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><span class="hide">I</span>
WAS walking thro' the darkness of</div>
<div class="i2">The pleasant town of Birr,</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas late, and very lonely,</div>
<div class="i8">You could not hear a stir</div>
<div class="i0">When turning round a corner, I heard the music sweet,</div>
<div class="i0">Of a semi-grand piano, and a singing down the street.</div>
</div></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">You will say it's not uncommon to hear the pleasant sound,</div>
<div class="i0">Of a semi-grand piano upon a midnight round,</div>
<div class="i0">But O the silver music, of the voice that mingled there,</div>
<div class="i0">With the semi-grand piano, was wonderful, and rare!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I waited on in rapture, and harkened to the strain,</div>
<div class="i0">I paused until she finished, and commenced the song again,</div>
<div class="i0">And O the magic pathos, of her voice was such, I say'd</div>
<div class="i0">"I'll warble when she's finished, an Italian serenade."</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_226" id="Page_226">226</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">And so anon I warbled a heart bewitching thrill,</div>
<div class="i0">All in the friendly darkness, beneath her window sill,</div>
<div class="i0">I thought it might remind her, of the troubadours of old,</div>
<div class="i0">Tho' 'twasn't too romantic, for the night was dev'lish cold!</div>
<div class="i0">It wasn't all Italian, but it was much the same,</div>
<div class="i0">It was a sweet impromptu, a song without a name,</div>
<div class="i0">And if it doesn't bore you, I'll sing you just a verse,</div>
<div class="i0">You'll say it might be better; but I think it might be worse.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i2">"O lady who was singing</div>
<div class="i8">With happy semi-grand,</div>
<div class="i2">A troubadour is waiting,</div>
<div class="i8">He's asking for your hand,</div>
<div class="i2">Carrissima! Mia! Agrah!</div>
<div class="i8">From other lands I roam,</div>
<div class="i2">Be ready with the trousseau,</div>
<div class="i8">I'll come, and take you home!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i2">Recordar, how I love you,</div>
<div class="i8">This lay of mine will tell,</div>
<div class="i2">O willow! willow! wirrasthrue!</div>
<div class="i8">Mavrone! I love you well!</div>
<div class="i2">L'ami l'amo l'amantibus</div>
<div class="i8">Ri foldherando dum,</div>
<div class="i2">Mein fraulein cushla bawn agrah!</div>
<div class="i8">Get up your traps, and come!"</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">It wasn't all Italian, this song of mine you see,</div>
<div class="i0">It wasn't like a tarantelle; 'twasn't like a glee,</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas thought of on the spur, its thus that brightest songs are made,</div>
<div class="i0">I think that you'll agree with me, 'twas a compo serenade.</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_227" id="Page_227">227</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">I felt the song was working, 'twas amorous, and new,</div>
<div class="i0">'Twas making an impression, a thing I always do,</div>
<div class="i0">As tho' the middle ages, were back again in Birr,</div>
<div class="i0">Hark! hark behind her lattice, at last I heard a stir!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">O there's nothing like the feeling that passes through the mind</div>
<div class="i0">When you know a lovely lady is pulling up her blind,</div>
<div class="i0">And my heart was all a-flutter, in that lonely street of Birr,</div>
<div class="i0">When I heard the curtains rustle, with the sylphid hand of her.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I saw the window open, I saw a face to scarce!</div>
<div class="i0">I heard a voice that muttered "What are ye doin' there?"</div>
<div class="i0">And over me was emptied a full and flowing can!</div>
<div class="i0">Which made me hurry homewards, a wet and wiser man!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I sang my song that midnight, with voice of dulcet tone,</div>
<div class="i0">My dulcet voice next morning was like a bagpipe groan,</div>
<div class="i0">A blanket round my shoulders, my feet were in a pan,</div>
<div class="i0">Some doctor's stuff beside me, a sad and wiser man!</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo239.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="247" alt="illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="CANTICRANK" id="CANTICRANK"><big>CANTICRANK.</big></SPAN></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/canticrank.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="73" alt="canticrank" /></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_228" id="Page_228">228</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">I</div>F you have æsthetic notions of the classic beauty rare,</div>
<div class="i0">You would never for a moment say that Nature took the prize,</div>
<div class="i0">For the elegance of figure, or tint upon her hair,</div>
<div class="i4">Of Mother Becca Canticrank, you wouldn't like her eyes;</div>
<div class="i12">Her nose you couldn't admirate,</div>
<div class="i12">Her teeth are in a chippy state,</div>
<div class="i0">Her voice is like a corncrake, her manner like a knife;</div>
<div class="i12">A cutting way of dealing</div>
<div class="i12">With sentimental feeling,</div>
<div class="i0">You wouldn't altogether care to choose her for a wife.</div>
<div class="i0">But ah! she is the casket of a compensating excellence,</div>
<div class="i4">The odour of a sanctity peculiarly her own,</div>
<div class="i12">She knows she is, without a doubt,</div>
<div class="i12">Intensely moral out and out,</div>
<div class="i0">And so she sits in judgment on a self-constructed throne.</div>
<div class="i12">As Censor of corruptousness,</div>
<div class="i12">Of Nature in voluptousness,</div>
<div class="i0">She rails in holy horror, with a Puritanic rage,</div>
<div class="i12">That beauty's form is shocking,</div>
<div class="i12">In semi-raiment mocking,</div>
<div class="i0">Her own upholstered scragginess in picture or on stage.</div>
<div class="i12">Her loathing is the ballet;</div>
<div class="i12">For lo! from court and alley,</div>
<div class="i0">The thousand Cinderellas are fairy clad and bright,</div>
<div class="i12">A direr deed of sinning—</div>
<div class="i12">By dint of beauty winning</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_229" id="Page_229">229</SPAN></span><div class="i0">Their bread, than by the needle, in the murky candlelight,</div>
<div class="i12">O Mother Becca Canticrank,</div>
<div class="i12">The ways of earth are very rank;</div>
<div class="i0">But women live by beauty, intelligence, and toil.</div>
<div class="i12">And toil is overcrowded, Mam,</div>
<div class="i12">Intelligence is got by cram;</div>
<div class="i0">And what's for lovely Sally of the garret, shall she spoil?</div>
<div class="i12">No! pray for her, and set her,</div>
<div class="i12">As toiler for the sweater,</div>
<div class="i0">Or freeze her in the winter, on your doorstep in the street,</div>
<div class="i12">With penance to her bones,</div>
<div class="i12">By whiting up the stones,</div>
<div class="i0">That you may moil her handiwork with smirch of dirty feet.</div>
<div class="i12">Or pray for her, and crape her,</div>
<div class="i12">As vestal to the draper,</div>
<div class="i0">To do the woful penance, of Canticranks to please;</div>
<div class="i12">Till worn out and weary,</div>
<div class="i12">Unto her bedroom eyrie,</div>
<div class="i0">She staggers up at midnight, then bring her to her knees;</div>
<div class="i12">Do anything, but let her</div>
<div class="i12">Enjoy a way, to better</div>
<div class="i0">The miserable midnight of her life, into the day</div>
<div class="i12">Of brighter fortune's light;</div>
<div class="i12">Aye, crush her back to night,</div>
<div class="i0">And teach her how to thank you, by kneeling down to pray.</div>
<div class="i12">Yes, hound away the ballet,</div>
<div class="i12">Destroy the chance of Sally,</div>
<div class="i0">For she has many prizes in the marriage market won.</div>
<div class="i12">By hypocritic prudity,</div>
<div class="i12">Go boom the semi-nudity,</div>
<div class="i0">Of drawing room and salon, for the first and second son.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="CAUGHT_IN_THE_BREACH" id="CAUGHT_IN_THE_BREACH">CAUGHT IN THE BREACH.</SPAN></h2>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_230" id="Page_230">230</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo242.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="451" alt="Caught in the breach" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">O</div>F fascinating parts,</div>
<div class="i0">He played with female hearts;</div>
<div class="i10">'Twas reprehensible, as you may guess;</div>
<div class="i0">But still it was his way,</div>
<div class="i0">Continued he to play,</div>
<div class="i10">Until a maiden asked him for redress,</div>
<div class="i0">And folly bore the fruit,</div>
<div class="i0">Of breach of promise suit,</div>
<div class="i10">He owns a couple of thousand pounds the less,</div>
<div class="i10">He's a sorry man to-day, he does confess,</div>
<div class="i10">And the wily way of woman he does bless,</div>
<div class="i10">And his pipe is all that he will now caress,</div>
<div class="i10">He doesn't care to think of it, the mess!</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="A_KLEPTOMANIACS_DOOM" id="A_KLEPTOMANIACS_DOOM">A KLEPTOMANIAC'S DOOM.</SPAN></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo243.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="288" alt="A Kleptomaniacs doom" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">T</div>HE Lord of Masherdudom wore on his essencèd curls</div>
<div class="i0">A golden zone of strawberry leaves, and rays with pips of pearls,</div>
<div class="i0">Tho' he was called an Englishman his blood was Prussian blue,</div>
<div class="i0">Which unto his complexion gave a gallimaufry hue,</div>
<div class="i0">The Earl of Masherdudom, he was just as he began,</div>
<div class="i0">He seemed in perpetuity, a fossil ladies' man,</div>
<div class="i0">And yet he wasn't what you'd call an absolute success,</div>
<div class="i0">He hankered to be more, than most; he wasn't, he was less,</div>
<div class="i0">For he was poisoned with the grip of miser hungered greed,</div>
<div class="i0">And racking rent upon the screw, he made his tenants bleed.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He loved his Parson; for he taught that gold was dross, and scutch,</div>
<div class="i0">To men who of the sinful chink, had not got overmuch;</div>
<div class="i0">He taught by unctions homily, how really false, the leaven</div>
<div class="i0">Of gold is to a tenant here, compared with gold in Heaven;</div>
<div class="i0">But man with base ingratitude is rife, they did not bless</div>
<div class="i0">The Earl of Masherdudom, so he wasn't a success.</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_232" id="Page_232">232</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">One day 'twas ruminating thus, alone, and in his club,</div>
<div class="i0">"My politics do fail" he said "to fail, aye there's the rub,</div>
<div class="i0">I was a high conservative; I am, what am I now?</div>
<div class="i0">An India rubber ball of wind, a pinhole in my brow,</div>
<div class="i0">Evaporated of my brain, a shrunken rag, and dust,</div>
<div class="i0">A something must be done I wot, I wis a something must;"</div>
<div class="i0">He took a portly bottle up, and from its tinselled neck,</div>
<div class="i0">He poured the buzzing nectar forth, and without pause or reck,</div>
<div class="i0">Into his æsophagus then decanting it straightway</div>
<div class="i0">He lit a weed,—he was a man who never smoked a clay,—</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo244.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="168" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="i0">
"Oddsbodkins to that liberal!"—He swore in antient guise</div>
<div class="i0">Of quaintly oath—"He's more than I, I wot, for he is wise</div>
<div class="i0">Unto the leading, and the light
<div class="i3">That gives to men a glim</div>
<div class="i0">Of what they know is just, I'm but</div>
<div class="i3">A farthing dip to him,"</div>
<div class="i0">Twas thro' his indignation he did make a vulgar slip</div>
<div class="i0">And coined so rude a simile,—in re the farthing dip;</div>
<div class="i0">"I find my brains have broken loose, my occiputs to let,</div>
<div class="i0">But ha! I've got a last resource, that none may wot of yet,</div>
<div class="i0">I'll take my diamond ring to-night, and use it round his panes,</div>
<div class="i0">And in a mask I'll burgle him, and steal his liberal brains!"</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He quaffed the glorious fizz again, a swill both deep and strong</div>
<div class="i0">Nor witted he, nor wotted he, it was a lawless wrong</div>
<div class="i0">To steal another's brains. He then invested in some crape,</div>
<div class="i0">And putty, thus to make his nose more liberal of shape;</div>
<div class="i0">He turned his coat, its lining was of party colored trim,</div>
<div class="i0">And got a life preserver "now I'll go and burgle him!"</div>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo245.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="268" alt="illustration" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_233" id="Page_233">233</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">
That night</div>
<div class="i0">He sneaked the toepath o'er,</div>
<div class="i5">With serpentine device,</div>
<div class="i0">And round a postal pillar red,</div>
<div class="i5">He scouted slyly twice,</div>
<div class="i0">Until on india rubber soles,</div>
<div class="i0">At length he reached the goal,</div>
<div class="i2">And up the garden wall</div>
<div class="i5">He clomb,</div>
<div class="i0">And down the wall he stole!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Then knotting on his mask of crape, with spry ambition fain,</div>
<div class="i0">He slid, and worked his diamond ring around the window pane,</div>
<div class="i0">He crept into the servant's hall, no maid, or cook was there;</div>
<div class="i0">He took his boots, and gaiters off, and climbed along the stair;</div>
<div class="i0">He sought to catch the banister, to guide his pilot fist;</div>
<div class="i0">But headlong down the flight he fell, the banister he missed!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">And lo! from every room above, the shrieks of horror rose,</div>
<div class="i0">From girls in papered tresses, bereft of daylight clothes,</div>
<div class="i0">And full for twenty minutes by the clock, their cries increase,</div>
<div class="i0">Of "ho! Police" and "robbers hi!" and "murder ho Police!"</div>
<div class="i0">The butler fired a pistol shot, the cook discharged a spit!</div>
<div class="i0">The boots let fly a bootjack, and the footman all his kit!</div>
<div class="i0">The groom ran down the stable stairs with horsey oathings dire,</div>
<div class="i0">And a constable came knocking said he "are you's on fire?"</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">He put his bull's eye on him "Ha! well here's a putty case!</div>
<div class="i0">You needn't hide, behind that putty nose upon your face;</div>
<div class="i0">I'm on the 'wanted' tack for you a couple of months or three,</div>
<div class="i0">So don't you be disorderly, move on, and come with me,"</div>
<div class="i0">They put him on his country, and the evidence was queer,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_234" id="Page_234">234</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">But said his Lordship solemnly,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i10">"The crime that we have here,</div>
<div class="i0">Is rare in English jurisprud', a noble drinks, and goes</div>
<div class="i0">With mask of crape upon his eyes, and putty on his nose,</div>
<div class="i0">To burgle certain premises, but drink being in his head,</div>
<div class="i0">Mistook the house, attacked his own, and burgled it instead!</div>
<div class="i0">Now this is queer; but I have here, a very antient law,</div>
<div class="i0">And from its context, you will mark, I this deduction draw,</div>
<div class="i0">That should a man by suicide, attempt to sneak away,</div>
<div class="i0">From curses that grow thick on him, we make the coward stay,</div>
<div class="i0">And if a man by putty nose, and mask, and diamond ring,</div>
<div class="i0">Do burgle his own home, It's just a similar sort of thing,</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">And so unto the upper house, for thy remaining years,</div>
<div class="i0">I sentence thee!" and with his wig, the judge mopped up his tears.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo246.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="154" alt="illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="AN_ILL_WIND_BLEW_HIM_GOOD" id="AN_ILL_WIND_BLEW_HIM_GOOD">AN ILL WIND BLEW HIM GOOD!</SPAN></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo247.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="241" alt="An ill wind blew him good!" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">I WAS to the windward walking,</div>
<div class="i0">Of love and marriage talking,</div>
<div class="i5">When, zephyr like a feather,</div>
<div class="i10">Took my topper on its wing</div>
<div class="i0">And I hollo'd! and I hollo'd!</div>
<div class="i0">While another fellow followed,</div>
<div class="i5">It stopped, they came together,</div>
<div class="i10">With his foot upon the thing!</div>
<div class="i0">Æsthetic oaths I uttered,</div>
<div class="i0">A threat for damage muttered,</div>
<div class="i5">And my popping of the question,</div>
<div class="i10">Had also lifted wing.</div>
</div>
<hr class="tb" />
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">She's wedded to another,</div>
<div class="i0">And now I cannot smother,</div>
<div class="i5">My blessing on that zephyr,</div>
<div class="i10">And that fugitive top hat,</div>
<div class="i0">For had I not been checked,</div>
<div class="i0">My happiness was wrecked,</div>
<div class="i5">I wouldn't be so rosy</div>
<div class="i10">To-day, and round and fat.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="THE_GHOST" id="THE_GHOST">THE GHOST OF HIRAM SMIKE.</SPAN></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/248.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="186" alt="The Ghost of Hiram Smike" /></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_236" id="Page_236">236</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">S</div>HE was a dainty lady, with golden hair, and cream</div>
<div class="i0">Of roses, her complexion, belike a charming dream.</div>
<div class="i0">Her eyes were sapphire lighted, her lips, with peachen bloom,</div>
<div class="i0">Paterre of pearls were framing, but in her heart a tomb;</div>
<div class="i0">For many loves lay buried, that cemet'ry below—</div>
<div class="i0">O fie on it for ladies, with love, to trifle so.</div>
<div class="i0">At last unto a stranger, her stony heart, did strike,</div>
<div class="i0">His wealth was most romantic, his name was Hiram Smike.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">'Twas on her mother's sofa he looked at her, said he,</div>
<div class="i0">"I'm kinder sweet on you, love, will you accept of me?</div>
<div class="i0">I've travelled half this orange, and never saw your likes;</div>
<div class="i0">I calculate you oughter join the wigwams of the Smikes."</div>
<div class="i0">His wealth was most romantic, she answered him with tact,</div>
<div class="i0">Said he, "I'm off to-morrow, my trunk is ready packed;</div>
<div class="i0">I must be off to 'Frisco, to see my corn is barned,</div>
<div class="i0">Don't marry in my absence, for if you do, I'm darned!</div>
<div class="i0">Now play some tune, that's proper, to show that you're engaged,</div>
<div class="i0">Expressive of your promise, and how your heart is caged;</div>
<div class="i0">Strike up some soothin ballad, to tell how you'll be true,</div>
<div class="i0">And I'll work in a chorus, of Yankee-doodle-do."</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_237" id="Page_237">237</SPAN></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Her fairy fingers wandered, along the ivory keys,</div>
<div class="i0">Of her new rosewood cottage, like warble thro' the trees;</div>
<div class="i0">She sang, that she'd be faithful, all in a soothing strain,</div>
<div class="i0">While he worked in a chorus—and then he crossed the main.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">It was a level twelve months, a fortnight, and a day,</div>
<div class="i0">Since Hiram Smike departed, and yet he stayed away;</div>
<div class="i0">But she did wait no longer, and they were back from church,</div>
<div class="i0">It was the wedding breakfast, she's left him in the lurch.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"A health unto the bridegroom," and up they rose to drink;</div>
<div class="i0">When hark! a cry was uttered that made the lady think;</div>
<div class="i0">A voice of an old woman, employed upon that day,</div>
<div class="i0">To do some extra tending, "look here," said she, "I say,</div>
<div class="i0">I guess you do not know me because I've shaved my chin,</div>
<div class="i0">I'm dressed like an old woman, but I'm a man within;</div>
<div class="i0">I'm Hiram Smike, your lover, who left the Yankee shore,</div>
<div class="i0">To come back here to wed you, I'm darned for evermore.</div>
<div class="i0">You've lifted me like thunder, but you shall never boast</div>
<div class="i0">Of how you jilted Hiram—I'm off to make a ghost!"</div>
<div class="i0">He said, tucked up his flounces, and, fluttering through the door,</div>
<div class="i0">He left them all astounded, and he was seen no more.</div>
<div class="i0">Next morning in the Dodder, upon the city side,</div>
<div class="i0">A man beheld a woman, come floating down the tide.</div>
<div class="i0">And far away in London, a bride, and bridegroom fled</div>
<div class="i0">From their hotel at midnight—a ghost was round the bed!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">They sought a second lodging, but in the room, as host,</div>
<div class="i0">Was waiting to receive them that sad, intruding ghost.</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_238" id="Page_238">238</SPAN></span><div class="i0">They tried a cabman's shelter, but it was all in vain,</div>
<div class="i0">That tantalizing spectre was by their sides again.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">Aye, even in the daylight, in Rotten Row, aloud</div>
<div class="i0">They heard an awful murmur like water thro' the crowd;</div>
<div class="i0">A moan as from neuralgia did on each tympan strike,</div>
<div class="i0">"His ghost is on the war path avenging Hiram Smike."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">They tried the penny steam-boats, the railway underground,</div>
<div class="i0">The busses and the tramcars, but still they always found</div>
<div class="i0">That busy ghost around them, their lives could not be worse.</div>
<div class="i0">"O thunder!" shrieked the bridegroom, "I'll seek for a divorce."</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">But when the court was opened, the judge refused to sit,</div>
<div class="i0">For every pleading lawyer had got a sneezing fit;</div>
<div class="i0">And then there came the earthquake, the ruddy sunsets came,</div>
<div class="i0">When lo! quite unexpected, one night, they saw a flame.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">A flash like a vesuvian, did by the table strike,</div>
<div class="i0">With a Satanic whisper, "You're wanted, Hiram Smike."</div>
<div class="i0">And from that curious moment, there is no more to tell,</div>
<div class="i0">They're having every comfort, I hear they're doing well.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo250.jpg" width-obs="100" height-obs="9" alt="Decoration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="WHY_DID_YE_DIE" id="WHY_DID_YE_DIE">WHY DID YE DIE?</SPAN></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo251.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="271" alt="Why did ye die" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">"O</div> PAT, the blush is on your face,</div>
<div class="i10">You're white, an' cowld an' still,</div>
<div class="i0">I'm all alone, an' by your side,</div>
<div class="i10">Upon the bleak damp hill.</div>
<div class="i0">The beatin' from your heart is gone!</div>
<div class="i10">The starlight from your eye,</div>
<div class="i0">Mavrone Asthore, O Pat agra!</div>
<div class="i10">Arrah! why did ye die?</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">A sthrake of blood is on your breast,</div>
<div class="i10">An' blood is on your brow,</div>
<div class="i0">O let me die meself, an' rest,</div>
<div class="i10">It's all I care for now.</div>
<div class="i0">I want to go where you are gone,</div>
<div class="i10">An' in your grave to lie!</div>
<div class="i0">Ah! Pat avrone, I'm all alone,</div>
<div class="i10">Arrah! why did ye die?</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_240" id="Page_240">240</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">Me curse is on the men avick!</div>
<div class="i10">That brought you out this night,</div>
<div class="i0">That took you off an' made me sick,</div>
<div class="i10">An' coaxed ye to the fight,</div>
<div class="i0">O sure 'twas wrong to give your life,</div>
<div class="i10">An' lave your wife to cry,</div>
<div class="i0">Ah! Pat you should have stayed at home,</div>
<div class="i10">Arrah! why did ye die?</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">You wouldn't take me warnin', Pat,</div>
<div class="i10">An' shun the moonlight boys,"—</div>
<div class="i0">"Ah! Biddy whisht! wake out of that,</div>
<div class="i10">You're dhramin'! stop yer noise!</div>
<div class="i0">Ye've dhragged the blankets off of me,</div>
<div class="i10">I'm jammed against the wall,</div>
<div class="i0">An' you're bawlin' all for nothin' for</div>
<div class="i10">I'm not dead at all!"</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo252.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="203" alt="illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="A_PRETTY_LITTLE_LAND_I_KNOW"></SPAN>A PRETTY LITTLE LAND I KNOW</h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo253.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="379" alt="A PRETTY LITTLE LAND I KNOW" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><div class="dropcap">A</div> PRETTY little land I know,</div>
<div class="i0">Surrounded by the pearly spray;</div>
<div class="i0">It's where the em'rald shamrocks grow</div>
<div class="i8">In fertile propagation.</div>
<div class="i0">The great bear in the polar sky</div>
<div class="i2">Can see it at the fall of day,</div>
<div class="i0">When peeping with his glistening eye,</div>
<div class="i8">Towards Britain's mighty nation.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">For when the sun is rolling down</div>
<div class="i2">Into the ocean for the night,</div>
<div class="i0">In all his radiant golden crown,</div>
<div class="i8">And purple-flecker'd rays;</div>
<div class="i0">While tucking on his dreaming cap,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_242" id="Page_242">242</SPAN></span>
<div class="i2">Inside the crimson curtains bright,</div>
<div class="i0">The great warm-hearted kingly chap,</div>
<div class="i8">Looks back with loving gaze.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">And where the shining waters dance</div>
<div class="i2">Across the wild Atlantic deeps,</div>
<div class="i0">He takes a sudden, pleasing glance;</div>
<div class="i8">And when the twilight cometh grey</div>
<div class="i0">On other shores, with coaxing glow,</div>
<div class="i2">He winks his eye before he sleeps,</div>
<div class="i0">Upon that charming land I know,</div>
<div class="i8">That's jewel'd in the pearly spray.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">There, lore of bravest deeds enshrine</div>
<div class="i2">Great phantoms of historic days;</div>
<div class="i0">There, myrtle wreaths of memory twine</div>
<div class="i8">O'er many storied graves;</div>
<div class="i0">There, many marble brows are bound</div>
<div class="i2">By sculpture of the poet's bays,</div>
<div class="i0">The while their souls are still in sound</div>
<div class="i8">From harp strings to the waves.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">With glorious wealth of hair in curls,</div>
<div class="i2">And beauty, real elating, boys,</div>
<div class="i0">It's there you'll find most darling girls</div>
<div class="i8">In plentiful diffusion.</div>
<div class="i0">And Cupid, with his bow and darts,</div>
<div class="i2">His murders perpetrating, boys,</div>
<div class="i0">Don't care at all what crowds of hearts</div>
<div class="i8">He slays by love's delusion.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="How" id="How">HOW THEY ENLIST</SPAN></h2>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo255.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="318" alt="How They Enlist" /></div>
<div class="center">
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><ANTIMG src="images/illo255a.jpg" width-obs="100" height-obs="114" alt="T" />WO guardsmen, and a Dublin boy</div>
<div class="i6">Were drinking in a bar</div>
<div class="i0">The Dublin boy was standing treat,</div>
<div class="i6">Unto the men of War,</div>
<div class="i0">And thus to one, he speaketh so—</div>
<div class="i6">The taller of the two—</div>
<div class="i0">"I wonder how men come to go</div>
<div class="i6">And list, now how did you?</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">The soldier grinned a stately grin,</div>
<div class="i6">In military style,</div>
<div class="i0">He meant it for the Dublin boy</div>
<div class="i6">As patronising smile!</div>
<div class="i0">"It kind of sort like worries me,—</div>
<div class="i6">This was the cause of that,</div>
<div class="i0">I always liked to feed on lean,</div>
<div class="i6">I couldn't bolt the fat!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_244" id="Page_244">244</SPAN></span>
<div class="i0">"One day, it was at dinner, see,</div>
<div class="i6">A big disgustin' lump</div>
<div class="i0">Of fat, was dumped upon my plate,</div>
<div class="i6">I got the bloomin' hump!</div>
<div class="i0">I merely took the thing upon</div>
<div class="i6">My fork, and with a sigh,</div>
<div class="i0">I let my father have the fat</div>
<div class="i6">Whop in his bloomin' eye!</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div class="i0">"A sign of partnership dissolved</div>
<div class="i6">Between my boss, and me,</div>
<div class="i0">I took the shillin', and became</div>
<div class="i6">A guardsman, as you see,</div>
<div class="i0">But there! my appetite has been</div>
<div class="i6">Most tricky like, and mean,</div>
<div class="i0">Now I can eat a pound of fat,</div>
<div class="i6">And I detest the lean!"</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo256.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="213" alt="illustration" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="THE_KINDERGARTEN" id="THE_KINDERGARTEN">THE KINDERGARTEN WAY.</SPAN></h2>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/illo257a.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="233" alt="The kindergarten way" class="splitl" />
<ANTIMG src="images/illo257.jpg" width-obs="133" height-obs="83" alt="I" class="splitl" /></p>
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i0"><span class="hide">I</span>
N a perfumed orange grove, ajacent to Cordova,</div>
<div class="i0">I taught the English Grammar unto a lady gay;</div>
<div class="i5">The verb "to osculate"</div>
<div class="i5">I taught to conjugate,</div>
<div class="i0">Corporeally depicted, in kindergarten way.</div>
<div class="i12">But by eavesdropping trick,</div>
<div class="i12">A caballero quick,</div>
<div class="i5">With lapse of condescension,—</div>
<div class="i5">But where I may not mention,—</div>
<div class="i12">In dexter handed flick,</div>
<div class="i12">The Spanish verb to "stick"</div>
<div class="i0">Corporeally inflicted, in kindergarten way.</div>
<div class="i5">The verb "to do," he did it,</div>
<div class="i5">For Spanish laws forbid it;</div>
<div class="i12">To translate free,</div>
<div class="i12">Corporeallee,</div>
<div class="i5">The verb "to love," and practice it,</div>
<div class="i5">Upon the pupil, 'tis unfit,</div>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_246" id="Page_246">246</SPAN></span>
<div class="i12">To illustrate,</div>
<div class="i12">Its active state,</div>
<div class="i12">When passive hate,</div>
<div class="i12">Behind a gate,</div>
<div class="i12">Doth lie in wait,</div>
<div class="i0">To teach the verb "to suffer,"</div>
<div class="i12">In kindergarten way;</div>
<div class="i0">He taught the verb "to suffer,"</div>
<div class="i12">By impromt sword display,</div>
<div class="i0">I learnt the verb "to suffer!"</div>
<div class="i12">And would not, could not stay,</div>
<div class="i12">So left upon that day,</div>
<div class="i12">My fee he did not pay,</div>
<div class="i12">His ingrate, Spanish way!</div>
</div></div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo258.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="233" alt="curtain" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_247" id="Page_247">247</SPAN></span></p>
<h2><small>OPINIONS OF THE PRESS <br/> ON</small> <br/> <strong>THE BARNEY BRADEY BROCHURES</strong> <br/> <small>BY</small> <br/> WM. THEODORE PARKES.</h2>
<div class="prose">
<p>"It is pleasant to turn from these gloomy details to the hearty, rollicking, honest, joyous
spirit of Barney Bradey. He sings the Prince's Installation to the tune to which <em>Ingoldsby</em>
sang the Queen's Coronation, and with very much of the same spirit and success. The
details are full of real good humour, and are thus picturesquely concluded with a touch of the
Ulster King at Arms....
Barney Bradey's eye was pretty well everywhere but it failed to see one incident of the
day.... All this is worthy of being sung by such a bard as the author of 'St. Patrick's
Ruction.'"—<cite>Athenæum.</cite></p>
<p>"Most people know Barney Bradey, and the more you know of him the better you like
him. Perhaps very few of your comic poets have achieved such legitimate success as
Barney, whether in 'St. Patrick's Ruction' or, the 'Queer Papers,' or even in the fugitive
pieces which come to us from time to time. The whole story of Napoleon's war is told in
verse, with a genuine Irish humour, abounding in good points and suggestive images. The
fun is quite of an original kind, and is really <em>sui generis</em>. The author has great command of
language, expressive yet simple, and manages meter with uncommon skill. The strange
inversions, provoking hyberbole, and quaint terms characteristic of Irish humour, are here
lavishly displayed; and the man who would not laugh with Barney, while yet appreciating
his satirical truth, must be unhappy indeed. The range of thought, though extensive, is
very germane, and the humourist discovers a tinge of that Byronic happiness in soaring high
and still keeping the game in sight. We regret that we cannot quote a stanza or two from
'The Christening Cake' to prove to our readers that our praise is as well deserved as it is
genuine."—<cite>Freeman's Journal.</cite></p>
<p>"This is a humourous extravaganza, by the author of 'St. Patrick's Ruction' and other
comic rhymes, and is characterized by the same cleverness and quaint drollery. The
'baptism of fire,' the proclamations, letters, telegrams, projects, and incidents of the war, are
represented in fantastic forms of illustration. The effect is as ridiculous as the author intends
it to be."—<cite>Daily Express.</cite></p>
<p>"Welcome Barney!—In many a quaint, merry, and most grotesque "fytte," our
rollicking Irish Rabelais runs over the most marked opening incidents of the Franco-Prussian
war. All the outlandishness of diction; the funniness of Hibernian phonetic spelling; the
strange, wild, yet always true, similes and comparisons; the madcap, boisterous, merry-making
that characterized 'St. Patrick's Ruction,' and the 'Queer Papers,' are repeated,
equalled, aye, surpassed in the <span class="smcap">Christening Cake</span>. Barney's history of the war ends at
Saarbruck. We long to hear him on Weissembourg, Sedan, Strasbourg, Metz, and Paris.
We lately noticed 'St. Patrick's Ruction,' a work as full of real Irish witticisms as any we
ever perused, and one that has won its author unstinted praise. The orthography of the
present brochure is as comically outrageous, the similes and comparisons as far-fetched, and
yet as true to nature—the whole dainty tome as full of genuine, rollicking, open-hearted
Irish fun and humour as 'The Installation' or 'Sods from Puncherstown.' It is pathetic,
comical—true to nature, true to art."—<cite>Tyrone Constitution.</cite></p>
<p>"It is seldom in these days that one comes upon anything thoroughly and undeniably
Irish in the matter of witty writing. But the productions of 'Barney Bradey' are a
refreshing exception to this doleful rule. In 'St. Patrick's Ruction,' and the 'Queer Papers,'
we rejoiced to find that an original had arisen among us; and now, in another production,
we are pleased to see our first opinion verified. The design of the piece lies in the combination
of fifteen poems in one 'harmonious whole.' The story ends with the capture of
Saarbruck, and all throughout runs a vein of most pungent and telling satire."—<cite>Post.</cite></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_248" id="Page_248">248</SPAN></span>
"The clever author of 'St. Patrick's Ruction has presented the public with another
exceedingly witty pamphlet. The language is well chosen, and is sure heartily to amuse
the reader; there is a vein of well-directed satire in every line that exhibits the thoughtfulness
of the apparent careless writer."—<cite>Limerick Chronicle.</cite></p>
<p>"Barney sings in Anglo-Irish doggrel of the most exquisite and original kind. His
readers, whose name is legion, will find him quite as entertaining in those 'Queer Papers' as
when his comet-like genius first blazed upon the world in 'St. Patrick's Ruction."—<cite>Limerick
Reporter.</cite></p>
<p>"Barney Bradey is a poet of no ordinary powers. It is not going too far to say that he has
acquitted himself to his own satisfaction, and also to that of others. His orthography is
peculiar, and his fun and wit are thoroughly Irish. The droll and clever Barney is a queer
character, but he is so full of humour and says so many witty things that he must become a
favourite with every one."—<cite>Dundalk Democrat.</cite></p>
<p>"This poem under notice is merry in the extreme, and displays an accurate knowledge of
Irish character, and of the peculiar English in which it likes to display itself. The author
wishes everybody to be agreeable, and sets a good example himself. Here is a description of
the ladies present at the installation service, full of the gentlest satire.... In addition,
there is prose, entitled 'Sods from the Turf of Puncherstown.' It makes merry, but most
good-humouredly, with everybody and everything, and by many readers will be regarded as
fully equal to most of Artemus Ward's attempts. We have not seen his 'Tails and Ballids,'
but it is spoken of highly, and we do not think the present attempt is deserving of less praise."—<cite>Portadown
News.</cite></p>
<p>"This is a whimsical and clever little production, written in a style of orthography
peculiarly its own, and conveying a vast amount of humour. The lines entitled 'O Law!
there's a Star from the Sky,' are rich and full of humorous comicality, greatly heightened by
their droll versification."—<cite>Derry Journal.</cite></p>
<p>"The grand processions, crushing, crowding, cheering, are all graphically detailed by the
poetic 'Barney.' Altogether, a very pleasant hour may be spent in company with our
facetious friend, 'Barney Bradey.'"—<cite>Carlow Sentinel.</cite></p>
<p>"Barney Bradey has acquired considerable success in his treatment of Irish wit and
character, partly in prose and partly in poetry: the latter runs on in a clear stream of
merriment, while the former, with rollicking fun, possesses an undercurrent of light wit, and
occasionally of caustic sarcasm. Taken as a whole the little book is exceedingly readable,
and as a bold venture on a very delicate field of literature, may be looked on as a decided
success."—<cite>Herald.</cite></p>
<p>"Barney Bradey will cause a merry laugh to many by his piquant humour and droll
conceits. They display at times an acuteness of observation and a pungency of wit which is
heightened by the quaint mode of expression used."—<cite>King's County Chronicle.</cite></p>
<p>"Over Barney Bradey's Papers every reader is sure to laugh. They are full of fun and
jollity. The only fault is their brevity."—<cite>Malvern News.</cite></p>
<p>"Barney Bradey is one gem of the Isle. He understands the 'boys,' and expresses their
opinions in a very cute sensible way."—<cite>Kirkcudbrightshire Advertiser.</cite></p>
<p>"Barney Bradey's Papers are so droll that we cannot do better than give our readers the
one 'Matrimonial.'"—<cite>Eastern Post.</cite></p>
<p>"Barney Bradey's Papers will afford considerable amusement.'—<cite>Ayrshire Express.</cite></p>
<p>"Barney Bradey's Papers are full of genuine humour."—<cite>Greenwich Gazette.</cite></p>
<p>"The facetious style has an excellent exponent in the person of Barney Bradey."—<cite>Brighton
Daily News.</cite></p>
<p>"Prose or verse come equally facile to his exceedingly humorous and racy pen."—<cite>Ecclesiastical
Gazette.</cite></p>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illo260.jpg" width-obs="200" height-obs="16" alt="decoration" /></div>
</div>
<SPAN name="endofbook"></SPAN>
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