i/.'-r.i^^iAn''^ 0-1/ S CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY UNDERGRADUATE LIBRARY Cornell University Library PR4713.B11 1890 The "Bab" ballads; much sound and little 3 1924 014 153 062 DATE DUE 'i0i/isiii0!fWf^^^^^^^^ *%^< !eri|j as ^••■■i &i» (Jfij^ qsis. -IllN Vji 1087 CAYLORD PRINTCOIN U.S.A. Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924014153062 The "Bab" Ballads. ufh ^ound and f ittle ^mt BY W. S. GILBERT., _ „ . ff^ITH ILLUSTRATIONS ST THE AUTHOR. FIFTH EDITION, REVISED. PHILADELPHIA : HENRY T. COATES & CO., ' B' Ft^ PREFACE. TT appears now-a-days to be an absolute necessity that the subject-matter of even the most insignificant books should be heralded by a Preface ; and I believe that there are on record instances of authors who have experienced no difficulty what- ever in spinning very slender materials into a three-volume novel, and yet have found themselves terribly perplexed when called upon by their publishers to fill two or three pages with a vindication of their motives in writing it : just as busy people find it very easy to be guilty of an impertinence, but very diffi- cult indeed to apologize satisfactorily for it. I have some reason to believe that the Ballads, which now appear for the first time in a collected form, have achieved a certain whimsical popularity among a special class of readers. I hope to gather, from their publication in a separate volume, whether that popularity (such as it is) is a thing to be gratified with. With respect to the Ballads themselves, I do not know (vii) viii PREFACE. that I have anything very definite to say about them, except that they are not, as a rule, founded upon fact. I have ventured to publish the illustrations with them because, while they are certainly quite as bad as the Ballads, I suppose they are not much worse. If, therefore, the Ballads are worthy of publication in a collected form, the little pictures would have a right to complain if they were omitted. I do not know that they would avail themselves of that right, but I should, never- theless, have it on my conscience that I had been guilty of partiality. If, on the other hand, the Ballads should unfortu- nately be condemned as wholly unworthy of the dignity with which the Publishers have - invested them, they will have the satisfaction of feeling that they have companions in misfortune in the rather clumsy sketches that accompany them. W. S G. CONTENTS. FAOl Captain Reece ...... • ' 3 rhe Rival Curates ... . .18 Only a Dancing Girl 24 General John .... . . 27 To a Little Maid 3 ' John and Freddy 32 Sir Guy the Crusader 35 Haunted . ■ 4° The Bishop and the Busman 43 The Troubadour • 4^ Ferdinando and Elvira 54 Lorenzo de Lardy 59 Disillusioned 64 BabetU^s Love .• 67 X CONTENTS. piGlr To My Bride ....... 7^ Tke Folly of Brown 74 Sir Macklin 80 rke Yarn of the " Nancy Bell" .... 85 The Bishop of Rum-ti-Foo 90 The Precocious Baby ...... 96 To Phabe loz Baines Carezv, Gentleman . . . . . 103 Thomas Winterboitom Hance . . . • .109 The Reverend Micah Sowls • . . • ■ 115 A Discontented Sugar Broker 1 2C The Pantomime " Super" to kis Mask . . . 127 The Force of Argument 1 29 The Ghost, the Gallant, the Gael, and the Goblin . 135 The Phantom Curate . . - . . . .141 The Sensation Captain . . . . . . 144 Tempora Mutantur . . . . . . . 1 50 At a Pantomime . . . . . . . 153 King Borria Bungalee Boo . ■ . . . .158 The Periwinkle Girl . . . . . . 161 CONTENTS. PAGE Thomson Green and Harriet Hale . . , . 1 69 Bob Falter .... ... 1 74 The Story of Prince Agib . . . . .181 Ellen Mc Jones Aberdeen ... ..186 Petfr the Wag . . . . . . . ,192 Ben Allah Achmet 198 The Three Kings of Chickeraboo 204 y^oe Go lightly . . . ... . 209 To the Terrestrial Globe . ... 216 Gentle Alice Brown . ....217 The Bumboat Woman' s Story ..... 223 THE "BAB" BALLADS. CAPTAIN REECE, fXE all the ships upon the blue, ^ No ship contained a better crew Than that of worthy Captain Keece, Commanding of The Mantelpiece. (13) 14 THE ''BAB" BALLADS. He was adored by all his men, For worthy Captain Reece, R.N., Did all that lay within him to Promote the comfort of his crew. If ever they were dull or sad, Their captain danced to them like mad, Or told, to make the time pass by. Droll legends of his infancy. A feather bed had every man. Warm slippers and hot- water can. Brown Windsor from the captain's store, A valet, too, to every four. Did they with thirst in summer burn ? Lo, seltzogenes at very turn, And on all very sultry days Cream ices handed round on trays. Then, currant wine and ginger pops Stood handily on all the " tops :" And, also, with amusement rife, A " Zoetrope, or Wheel of Life." New volumes came across the sea From Mister Mtjdie's libraree; The Times and Saturday Review Beguiled the leisure of the crew. Kind-hearted Captain Reece, R.N., Was quite devoted to his men ; In point of fact, good Captain Reece, Beatified The Mantelpiece. CAPTAIN REEOE. 15 One summer eve, at half-past ten, He said (addressing all his men) : " Come, tell me, please, what I can do To please and gratify my crew. " By any reasonable plan I '11 make you happy if I can ; My own convenience count as nil ; It is my duty, and I will." Then up and answered William Lee, (The kindly captain's coxswain he, A nervous, shy, low-spoken man) He cleared his throat and thus began : " You have a daughter. Captain Reece, Ten female cousins and a niece, A ma, if what I 'm told is true, Six sisters, and an aunt or two. " Now, somehow, sir, it seems to me. More friendly-like we all should be. If you united of 'em to Unmarried members of the crew. " If you 'd ameliorate our life. Let each select from them a wife ; And as for nervous me, old pal, Give me your own enchanting gal !" Good Captain Reece, that worthy man, Debated on his coxswain's plan : " I quite agree," he said, " Bill ; It is my duty, and I will. 16 THE "BAB" BALLADS. " My daughter, that enchanting gurl, Has just been promised to an earl, And all my other familee To peers of various degree. " But what are dukes and viscounts to The happiness of all my crew ? The word I gave you I '11 fulfil ; ~ It is my duty, and I will. " As you desire it shall befall, I'll settle thousands on you all. And I shall be, despite my hoard, The only bachelor on board." The boatswain of The Mantelpiece, He blushed and spoke to Captain Reeoe ; " I beg your honor's leave," he said, " If you would wish to go and wed, CAPTAIN REECE. 17 " I have a widowed mother who Would be the very thing for you— She long has loved you from afar, She washes for you, Captain K." The captain saw the dame that day- Addressed her in his playful way — " And did it want a wedding ring? It was a tempting ickle sing ! " Well, well, the chaplain I will seek, We '11 all be married this day week — At yonder church upon the hill ; It is nay duty, and I will !" The sisters, cousins, aunts, and niece. And widowed ma of Captain Reece, Attended there as they were bidj It was their duty, and they d'.d. THE RIVAL CURATES. LIST while the poet trolls Of Mr. Clayton Hooper, Who had a cure of souls At Spiffton-extra-Sooper. He lived on curds and whey, And daily sang their praises, And then he 'd go and play With buttercups and daisies. Wild croquet Hooper banned, And all the sports of Mammon, He warred with cribbage, and He exorcised backgammon. His helmet was a glance That spoke of holy gladness ; A saintly smile his lance, His shield a tear of sadness. His Vicar smiled to see This armor on him buckled : With pardonable glee He blessed himself and chuckled. " In mildness to abound My curate's sole design is. In all the country round There 's none so mild as mine is !" (18) THE RIVAL CURATES. ifl And Hooper, disinclined His trumpet to be blowing, Yet did n't think you 'd find A milder curate going. A friend arrived one day At Spiffton-extra-Sooper, And in tbis shameful way He spoke to Mr. Hooper : " You think your famous name For mildness can't be shaken. That none can blot your fame — But, Hooper, you 're mistaken ! " Your mind is not as blank As that of Hopi/EY Porter, Who holds a curate's rank At Assesmilk-cum-Worter. 20 THE " BAB" BALLADS. " -He plays the airy flute, And looks depressed and blighted, Doves round about him ' toot,' And lambkins dance delighted. " He labors more than you At worsted work, and frames it; In old maids' albums, too. Sticks seaweed — yes, and names it ! " The tempter said his say, Which pierced him like a needle — He summoned straight away His sexton and his beadle. (These men were men who could Hold liberal opinions : On Sundays they were good — On week-days they were minions.) THE RIVAL CURATES. 2] " To HoPLEY Porter go, Your fare I will afford you — Deal him a deadly blow And blessings shall reward you. " But stay — I do not like Undue assassination, And so before you strike. Make this communication : " I'll give him this one chance — If he '11 more gaily bear him, Play croquet, smoke, and dance, I willingly will spare him." They went, those minions true, To Assesmilk-cum-Worter, And told their errand to The Reverend Hopley Porter. 22 TEE "BAB" BALLADS. "What?" said that reverend gent, " Dance through my hours of leisure! Smoke ? — bathe myself with scent ? — Play croquet? Oh, with pleasure ! " Wear all my hair in curl ? Stand at my door and wink — so : — At every passing girl ? My brothers, I shouM think so ! " For years I 've longed for some Excuse for this revulsion : Now that excuse has come — I do it on compulsion ! ! ! " THE RIVAL CURATES. 23 He smoked and winked away — This Reverend Hopley Porter — The deuce there was to pay At Assesmilk-cum-Worter. And Hooper holds his ground, In mildness daily growing — They think him, all around, The mildest curate going. f \ J' I I - \ ONLY A DANCING GIRL. /^NLY a dancing girl, ^ With an unromantic style, With borrowed color and curl, With fixed mechanical smile, With many a hackneyed wile. With ungrammatical lips, And corns that mar her trips ! (24) ONLY A DANCING GIRL. 25 Hung from the " flies " in air, She acts a palpable lie, She 's as little a fairy there As unpoetical I ! I hear you asking, Why — Why in the world I sing This tawdry, tinselled thing ? No airy fairy she. As she hangs in arsenic green, From a highly impossible tree. In a highly impossible scene (Herself not over clean). For fays don't suffer, I 'm told, From bunions, coughs, or cold. And statelydames that bring Their daughters there to see. Pronounce the " dancing thing " No better than she should be. With her skirt at her shameful knee, And her painted, tainted phiz : Ah, matron, which of us is ? (And, in sooth, it oft occurs That while these matrons sigh, Their dresses are lower than hers, And sometimes half as high ; 26 THE "BAB" BALLADS. And their hair is hair they buy, And they use their glasses, too, In a way she 'd blush to do.) But change her gold and green For a coarse merino gown, And see her upon the scene Of her home, when coaxing down Her drunken father's frown. In his squalid cheerless den : She's a fairy truly, then ! -K3S- GEN ERAL JOHN. fPHB bravest names for fire and flames, And all that mortal durst, Were Gteneral John and Private James, Of the Sixty-seventy-first. (27) 28 THE " RAB" BALLADS. General John was a soldier tried, A chief of warlike dons ; A haughty stride and a withering pride Were Major-General John's. A sneer would play on his martial phiz, Superior birth to show ; " Pish !" was a favorite word of his, And Iffe often said " Ho ! ho !" Fdll-Private James described might be, As a man of a mournful mind ; No characteristic trait had he Of any distinctive kind. From the ranks, one day, cried Private James, " Oh ! Major-General John, I 've doubts of our respective names. My mournful mind upon. " A glimmering thought occurs to me, (Its source I can't unearth) But I 've a kind of notion we Were cruelly changed at birth. " I've a strange idea, each other's names That we have each got on. Such things have been,'' said Private James. " They have !" sneered General John. " My General John, I swear upon My oath I think 'tis so " " Pish !" proudly sneered his General John, And he also said, " Ho ! ho !" GENERAL JOHN. 29 " My General John ! my G-enerai, John I My General John ! " quoth he, " This aristocratical sneer upon Your face I blush to see ! " No truly great or generous cove Deserving of them names Would sneer at a fixed idea that's drove In the mind of a Private James !" Said General John, " Upon your claims No need your breath to waste ; If this is a joke, Full-Private James, It 's a joke of doubtful taste. 3* 30 THE ''BAB" BALLADS. ' But being a man of doubtless worth, If you feel certain quite That we were probably changed at birth, I'll venture to say you're right." So General John as Private James Fell in, parade upon ; And Private James, by change of names, Was Major-General John. TO A LITTLE MAID By a Policeman. nOME with me, little maid, ^ Nay, shrink not, thus afraid — I '11 harm thee not ! Fly not, my love, from me — I have a home for thee — A fairy grot, Where mortal eye Can rarely pry. There shall thy dwelling be ! List to me, while I tell The pleasures of that cell. Oh, little maid ! What though its couch be rude. Homely the only food Withir;. its shade ? No thought of care Can enter there, No vulgar swain intrude ! Come with me, little maid. Come to the rocky shade I love to sing ; Live with us, maiden rare — Come, for we " want" thee there, Thou elfin thing. To work thy spell, In some cool cell In stately Pentonville ! (31) JOHN AND FREDDY. JOHN courted lovely Mary Ann, " So likewise did his brother Freddy, Fred was a very soft youDg man, While John, though quick, was most unsteady. Young Fred had grace all men above. But John was very much the strongest. " Oh, dance," said she, " to win my love — I '11 marry him who dances longest." John tries the maiden's taste to strike With gay, grotesque, outrageous dresses, And dances comically, like Clodoche and Co., at the Princess's. (32) JOHN AND FREDDY. 33 But Freddy tries another style, He knows some graceful steps and does 'em- A breathing Poem — Woman's smile — A man all poesy and buzzem. Now Freddy's operatic pas — Now Johnny's hornpipe seems entrapping : Now Freddy's graceful entrechats — Now Johnny's skilful "cellar-flapping." For many hours — for many days — For many weeks performed each brother. For each was active in his ways, And neither would give in to t' other. After a month of this, they say (The maid was getting bored and moody) A wandering curate passed that way And talked a lot of goody-goody. 34 TEE "BAB" BALLADS. " Oh my," said he, with solemn frown, " I tremble for each danciDg_/rater, Like unregenerated clown And harlequin at some thee-ayter." He showed that men, in dancing, do Both impiously and absurdly, And proved his proposition true, With Firstly, Secondly, and Thirdly. For months both John and Freddy danced, The curate's protests little heeding ; For months the curate's words enhanced The sinfulness of their proceeding. At length they bowed to Nature's rule — Their steps grew feeble and unsteady, Till Freddy fainted on a stool, And Johnny on the top of Freddy. JOHN AND FREDDY. 35 " Decide !" quoth they, " let him be named, Who henceforth as his wife may rank you." " I 've changed my views," the maiden said, " I only marry curates, thank you !" Says Fkeddy, " Here is goings on ! To bust myself with rage I 'm ready ;" " I '11 be a curate," whispers John — " And I," exclaimed poetic Freddy. But while they read for it, these chaps. The curate booked the maiden bonny — And when she 's buried him, perhaps, She '11 marry Frederick or Johnny. SIR GUY THE CRUSADER. QIR Gljy was a doughty crusader, A muscular knight, Ever ready to fight, A very determined invader. And Dickey de Lion's delight. (36) SIB GUV THE CRUSADER. 37 Lenore was a Saracen maiden, Brunette, statuesque. The reverse of grotesque. Her pa was a bagman at Aden, Her mother she played in burlesque. A coryphte pretty and loyal, In amber and red. The ballet she led ; Her mother performed at the Royal, Lenore at the Saracen's Head. Of face and of figure majestic, She dazzled the cits — Ecstaticized pits ; — Her troubles were only domestic. But drove her half out of her wits. 4 38 THE "BAB" BALLADS. Her father ioeessantly lashed her, On water and bread She was grudgingly fed ; Whenever her father ho thrashed her Her mother sat down on her head. GrUY saw her, and loved her, with reason, For beauty so bright, Set him mad with delight, He purchased a stall for the season And sat in it every night. His views were exceedingly proper, He wanted to wed, So he called at her shed And saw her progenitor whop her — Her mother sit down on her head. " So pretty," said he. " and so trusting ! You brute of a dad. You unprincipled cad. Your conduct is really disgusting. Come, come, now, admit it's too bad ! "You're a turbaned old Turk, and malignant— Your daughter Lenore I intensely adore And I cannot help feeling indignant, A fact that I hinted before. " To see a fond father employing A deuce of a knout For to bang her about, To a sensitive lover's annoying." Said the bagman, " Crusader, get out !" SIB GUr THE GBU SABER. 39 Says Guy, " Shall a warrior laden With a big spiky knob, Stand idly and sob, While a beautiful Saracen maiden Is whipped by a Saracen snob ? " To London I '11 go from my charmer." Which he did, with his loot (Seven hats and a flute). And was nabbed for his Sydenham armor, At Mr. Ben-Samuel's suit. Sir GrUY he was lodged in the Compter, Her pa, in a rage, Died (don't know his age), His daughter, she married the prompter, Grew bulky and quitted the stage. HAUNTED. TTAUNTED ? Aye, in a social way, -'-'- By a body of ghosts in dread array : But no conventional spectres they — Appalling, grim, and tricky : I quail at mine as I 'd never quail At a fine traditional spectre pale, With a turnip head and a ghostly wail, And a splash of blood on the dicky ! Mine are horrible, social ghosts. Speeches and women and guests and hosts. Weddings and morning calls and toasts, In every bad variety : Ghosts who hover about the grave Of all that 's manly, free, and brave : You '11 find their names on the architrave Of that charnel-house, Society. Black Monday — black as its school-room ink — With its dismal boys that snivel and think Of its nauseous messes to eat and drink. And its frozen lank to wash in. That was the first that brought me grief And made me weep, till I sought relief In an emblematical handkerchief, To choke such baby bosh in. (40) HAUNTED. 41 First and worst in the grim array — Ghosts of ghosts that have gone their way, Which I wouldn't revive for a single day For all the wealth of Plutus — Are the horrible ghosts that school-days soared : If the classical ghost that Brutus dared Was the ghost of his " Csesar" unprepared, I 'm sure I pity Brutus. I pass to critical seventeen ; The ghost of that terrible wedding scene. When an elderly colonel stole my queen, And woke my dream of heaven. No school-girl decked in her nurse-room curls Was my gushing innocent queen of pearls ; If she wasn't a girl of a thousand girls. She was one of forty-seven ! I see the ghost of my first cigar — Of the thence-arising family jar — Of my maiden brief (I was at the bar), (I called the judge, "Your wushup!") Of reckless days and reckless nights, With wrenched-off knockers, extinguished lights, Unholy songs, and tipsy fights, Which I strove in vain to hush up. Ghosts of fraudulent joint-stock banks, Ghosts of " copy, declined with thanks," Of novels returned in endless ranks, xVnd thousands more, I suffer. 4* 42 THE "BAB" BALLADS. The only line to fitly grace My humble tomb, when I 've run my race, Is, '' Header, this is the resting place Of an unsuccessful dufifer." 1 've fought them all, these ghosts of mine, But the weapons I 've used are sighs and brine, And now that I 'm nearly forty-nine. Old age is my chiefest bogy ; For my hair is thinning away at the crown, And the silver fights with the worn-out brown ; And a general verdict sets me down As an irreclaimable fogy. THE BISHOP AND THE BUSMAN. 1 T was a Bishop bold, And London was his see, He was short and stout and round about, And zealous as could be. It also was a Jew, Who drove a Putney bus — For flesh of swine however fine He did not care a cuss. His name was Hash Baz Ben, And Jedediah too, And Solomon and Zabulon — This bus-directing Jew. (43) 44 THE "BAB" BALLADS. The Bishop said, said he, " I '11 see what I can do To Christianize and make you wise, You poor benighted Jew." So every blessed day That bus he rode outside, From Fulham town, both up and down, And loudly thus he cried : — " His name is Hash Baz Ben, And Jedediah too. And Solomon and Zabulon — This bus-directing Jew." THE BISHOP AND THE BUSMAN. 45 At first the busman smiled, And rather liked the fun — He merely smiled, that Hebrew child, And said, " Eccentric one 1" And gay young dogs would wait To see the bus go by (These gay young dogs in striking togs) To hear the Bishop cry : — " Observe his grisly beard His race it clearly shows, He sticks no fork in ham or pork — Observe, my friends, his nose." " His name is Hash Baz Ben, And Jedediah, too, And Solomon and Zabtjlon — This bus directing Jew." But though at first amused, Yet after seven years. This Hebrew child got awful riled, And busted into tears. He really almost feared To leave his poor abode, His nose, and name, and beard became A byword on that road. iti THE ''BAB" BALLADS. At length lie swore an oath, The reason he would know — " I '11 call and see why ever he Does persecute me so." The good old bishop sat On his ancestral chair, The busman came, sent up his name, And laid his grievance bare. " Benighted Jew," he said, (And chuckled loud with joy) " Be Christian you, instead of Jew — Become a Christian boy. " I '11 ne'er annoy you more.'' " Indeed ? " replied the Jew. " Shall I be freed ? " " You will, indeed ! " Then "Done!" said he, "with you!" THE BISHOP AND THE BUSMAN. 47 The organ which, in man, Between the eyebrows grows, Fell from his face, and in its place, He found a Christian nose. His tangled Hebrew beard. Which to his waist came down. Was now a pair of whiskers fair — His name, Adolphus Brown. He wedded in a year, That prelate's daughter Jane; He 's grown quite fair — has auburn hair- His wife is far from plain. THE TROUBADOUR. A TKOUBADOUK he played ■'■^ Without a castle wall, Within, a hapless maid Responded to his call. " Oh, willow, woe is me ! Alack and well-a-day I If I were only free I 'd hie me far away !" (4ei THE TR»UBADOUB. 49 Unknown her face and name, But this he knew right well, The maiden's wailing came Prom out a dungeon cell. A hapless woman lay Within that dungeon grim — That fact, I 've heard him say, Was quite enough for him. " I will not sit or lie, Or eat or drink, I vow. Till thou art free as I, Or I as pent as thou." Her tears then ceased to flow, Her wails no longer rang. And tuneful in her woe The prisoned maiden sang: " Oh, stranger, as you play I recognise your touch ; And all that I cau say Is, thank you very much." He seized his clarion straight, And hlew thereat, until A warden oped the gate, " Oh, what might be your will ?" 50 THE "BAB" BALLADS. " I 've come, sir knave, to see The master of these halls : A maid unwillingly Lies prisoned in their walls." With barely stifled sigh That porter drooped his head, With teardrops in his eye, " A many, sir." he said. He stayed to hear no more, But pushed that porter by. And shortly stood before Sir Hugh de Peckham Rye. Sir Hugh he darkly frowned, " What would you, sir, with me ? ' The troubadour he downed Upon his bended knee. THE TROUBADOUR. 51 " I 've come, De Peckham Rye, To do a Christian task ; You ask me what would I ? It is not much I ask. " Release these maidens, sir, Whom you dominion o'er — Particularly her Upon the second floor. " And if you don't, my lord" — He here stood bolt upright, And tapped a tailor's sword — " Gome out, you cad, and fight !" 52 THE "BAB" BALLADS. Sir Hugh he called — and ran The warden from the gate : " Go, show this gentleman The maid in forty-eight." By many a cell they past, And stopped at length before A portal, bolted fast : The man unlocked the door. He called inside the gate With coarse and brutal shout, "Come, step it, Forty-eight!" And Forty-eight stepped out. THE TROUBADOUR. 63 " They gets it pretty hot, The maidens what we cotch — Two years this lady 's got For collaring a wotch.'' ' Oh, ah ! — indeed — I see," The troubadour exclaimed — " If I may make so free, How is this castle named?" The warden's eyelids fill. And sighing, he replied, " Of gloomy Pentonville This is the female side !" The minstrel did not wait The warden stout to thank, But recollected straight He'd business at the Bank. FERDINANDO AND ELVIRA; Oe the Gentle Pieman. PART I. A T a pleasant evening party I had taken down to supper "'^ One whom I will call Elvira, and we talked of love and TUPPER. Mr. Tupper and the poets, very lightly with them dealing. For I 've always been distinguished for a strong poetic feeling. Then we let off paper crackers, each of which contained a motto, And she listened while I read them, till her mother told her not to. Then she whispered, " To the ball-room we had better, dear, be walking ; If we stop down here much longer, really people will be talking." There were noblemen in coronets, and military cousins, There were captains by the hundred, there were baronets by dozens. (54) FERDINAND AND ELVIRA. 55 Yet she heeded not their offers, but dismissed them with a blessing ; Then she let down all her back hair which had taken long in dressing. Then she had convulsive sobbings in her agitated throttle, Then she wiped her pretty eyes and smelt her pretty smelling bottle. So I whispered, " Dear Elvira, say, — what can the matter be with you ? Does anything you've eaten, darling Popsy, disagree with you ? " But spite of all I said, her sobs grew more and more distressing, And she tore her pretty back-hair, which had taken long in dressing. Then she gazsd upon the carpet, at the ceiling then above me. And she whispered, " Ferdinando, do you really, really love " Love you?" said 1, then I sighed, and then I gazed upon her sweetly — For I think I do this sort of thing particularly neatly — " Send me to the Arctic regions, or illimitable azure. On a scientific goose-chase, with my Coxwell or my Glaisher ! 56 THE ''BAB" BALLADS. " Tell me whither I may hie me, tell me, dear one, that I maj know — la it up the highest Andes ? down a horrible volcano ? " But she said, " It is n't polar bears, or hot volcanic grottoes. Only find out who it is that writes those lovely cracker mottoes ! " PART II. "Tell me, Henry Wadsworth, Alfred, Poet Close, or Mister Tupper, Do you write the bonbon mottoes my Elvira pulls at supper ?" But Henry Wadsworth smiled, and said he had not had that honor : And Alfred, too, disclaimed the words that told so much upon her. " Mister Martin Tupper, Poet Close, I beg of you inform us;" But my question seemed to throw them both into a rage enormous. Mister Close expressed a wish that he could only get anigh to me. And Mister Martin Tupper sent the following reply to me : — FERDINAND O AND ELVIRA. 57 " A fool is bent upon a twig, but wise men dread a bandit," Which I know was very clever ; but I didn't understand it. Seven weary years I wandered — Patagonia, China, Norway, Till at last I sank exhausted at a pastrycook his doorway. There were fuchsias and geraniums, and daffodils and myrtle, So I entered, and I ordered half a basin of mock turtle. He was plump and he was chubby, he was smooth and he was rosy. And his little wife was pretty, and particularly cozy. And he chirped and sang, and skipped about, and laughed with laughter hearty — He was wonderfully active for so very stout a party. And I said, " 0, gentle pieman, why so very, very merry? Is it purity of conscience, or your one-and-seven sherry ?" But he answered, "I'm so happy — no profession oould be dearer — If I am not humming ' Tra 1 la ! la ! ' I'm singing ' Titer, lirer ! ' " First I go and make the patties, and the puddings and the jellies. Then I make a sugar birdcage, which upon a table swell is ; 58 THE ''BAB" BALLADS. " Then I polish all the silver, which a supper-table lacquers ; Then I write the pretty mottoes which you find inside the crackers "— "Found at last!" I madly shouted. " Gentle pieman, you astound me 1 " Then I waved the turtle soup enthusiastically round me. And I shouted and I danced until he'd quite a crowd around him — And I rushed away exclaiming, " I have found him ! I have found him ! " And I heard the gentle pieman in the road behind me trilling, " 'Tira! lira!' stop him, stop him ! ' Tra ! la! la!' the soup's a shilling ! " But until I reached Elvira's home, I never, never waited. And Elvira to her Ferdinand's irrevocably mated ! LORENZO DE LARDY. TVALILAH DB DAKDY adored ■^ An officer, late of the Gruards, Lorenzo db Lardy, a lord — A personal friend of the Bard's. (59) 60 THE "BAB" BALLADS. Dalilah de Dabdt was fat, Dalilah de Dardy was old, (No doubt in the world about that) But Dalilah de Dardy had gold. Lorenzo de Lardy was tall, The flower of maidenly pets, Young ladies would love at his call, But Lorenzo de Lardy had debts. His money-position was queer, And one of his favorite freaks Was to hide himself three times a year In Paris, for several weeks. Many days did n't pass him before He fanned himself into a flame, For a beautiful " Dam du Comptwore," And this was her singular name : Alice Eulalie Coraline BUPHROSINE COLOMBINA ThERESE Juliette Stephanie Celestine Charlotte Kusse de la Sauce Mayonnaise She booked all the orders and tin, Accoutred in showy fal-lal, At a two-fifty Restaurant, in The glittering Palais Royal. LOBENZO DE LARDY. 61 He 'd gaze in her orbit of blue, Her hand he would tenderly squeeze, But the words of her tongue that he knew Were limited strictly to these : " OORALINE CeLESTINE BuLALIE, Houp \h ! Je vous aime, oui, mossoo, Combien donnez moi aujourd'hui Bonjour, Mademoiselle, parlez voo." Mademoiselle de la Satjce Mayonnaise Was a witty and beautiful miss. Extremely correct in her ways. But her English consisted of this : — " Oh my ! pretty man, if you please, Blom boodin, biftek, ourrie lamb, Bouldogue, two franc half, quite ze cheese, Rosbif, me spik Angleesh godam." He 'd gaze in her eyes all the day, Admiring their sparkle and dance, And list while she rattled away In the musical accents of France. A waiter, for seasons before, Had basked in her beautiful gaze, And burnt to dismember Milor, He loved De La Sauce Mayonnaise. 62 THE ''BAB" BALLADS. He said to her, " M^chante Therese, Avec d^sespoir tu m'aooables, Pense tu, De la Sauce Mayonnaise, Ses intentions sont honorables. " Flirtez toujours, ma belle, si tu oses — Je me vengerai ainsi, ma chSre, Je le dirai de qiioi on compose Vol au vent d la Financiire ! " Lord Lardy knew nothing of this — The waiter's devotion ignored, But he gazed on the beautiful miss, And never seemed weary or bored. LORENZO DE LARDY. 63 The waiter would screw up his nerve, His fingers he'd snap and he'd dance — And Lord Lardy would smile and observe, " How strange are the customs of France \" Well, after delaying a space, His tradesmen no longer would wait : Returning to England apace, He yielded himself to his fate. Lord Lardy espoused, with a groan, Miss Dardy's developing charms, And agreed to tag on to his own, Her name and her newly-found arms. The waiter he knelt at the toes Of an ugly and thin coryphie, Who danced in the hindermost rows At the Theatre des Variftes. Mademoiselle de la Sauce Mayonnaise Did n't yield to a gnawing despair, But married a soldier, and plays As a pretty and pert Vivandi^re. DISILLUSIONED. By an Ex-Enthusiast. AH, that my soul its gods could see ^ As years ago they seemed to me When first I painted them ; Invested with the circumstance Of old conventional romance : Exploded theorem ! (64) DISILLUSIONED. 65 The bard who could, all men above, Inflame my soul with songs of love, And, with his verse, inspire The craven soul who feared to die. With all the glow of chivalry And old heroic fire ; I found him in a beerhouse tap Awaking from a gin-born nap, With pipe and sloven dress ; Amusing chums, who fooled his bent, With muddy, maudlin sentiment, And tipsy foolishness ! The novelist, whose painting pen To legions of fictitious men A real existence lends. Brain-people whom we rarely fail. Whene'er we hear their names, to hail As old and welcome friends ; I found in clumsy, snuffy suit. In seedy glove, and blucher boot. Uncomfortably big. Particularly commonplace, With vulgar, coarse, stock-broking face, And spectacles and wig. 66 THE ''BAB" BALLADS. My favourite actor who, at will, With mimic woe my eyes could fill With unaccustomed brine : A being who appeared to me (Before I knew him well) to be A song incarnadine ; I found a coarse unpleasant man With speckled chin — unhealthy, wan — Of self-importance full : Existing in an atmosphere That reeked of gin and pipes and beer — Conceited, fractious, dull. The warrior whose ennobled name Ts woven with his country's fame, Triumphant over all, I found weak, palsied, bloated, blear ; His province seemed to be, to leer At bonnets in Pall Mall. Would that ye always shone, who write, Bathed in your own innate lime-light, And ye who battles wage. Or that in darkness I had died Before my soul had ever sighed To see you off the stage ! BABETTE'S LOVE. T) ABETTE she was a fisher gal, With jupon striped and cap in crimps, She passed her days inside the Halle, Or collaring of little shrimps. Yet she was sweet as flowers in May, With no professional bouquet. jAOOTjWas of the Customs bold, An officer, at gay Boulogne, He loved Babette — his love he told And sighed, " Oh, soyez vous my own I" But " Non !" said she, " Jacot, my pet, Vous §tes trop scraggy pour Babette. (67) 68 THE "BAB" BALLADS. " Of one alone I nightly dream, An able mariner is he, And gaily serves the Gren'ral Steam- Boat Navigation Companee, I '11 marry him, if he but will — His name, I rather think, is Bill. " I see him when he 's not aware, Upon our hospitable coast, Reclining with an easy air. Upon the port against a post, A-thinking of, I '11 dare to say. His native Chelsea far away ! " Oh, mon !" exclaimed the Customs bold, " Mes yeux!" he said, which means, " my eye.' "Oh, ohfere!" he also cried, I'm told, " Par Jove,'' he added, with a sigh. " Oh, mon ! oh, ch^re ! mes yeux ! par Jove ! Je n'aime pas cet enticing cove ! " BABETTE'S LOVE. (59 The Panther's Captain stood hard hy, • He was a man of morals strict, If e'er a sailor winked his eye, Straightway he had that sailor licked, Mast-headed all (such was his code) Who dashed or jiggered, blessed or blowed. He wept to think a tar of his Should lean so gracefully on posts, He sighed and sobbed to think of this. On foreign, French, and friendly coasts. " It's human natur', p'raps — if so. Oh, isn't human natur' low !" He called his Bill, who pulled his ex. He said, " My Bill, I understand You've captivated some young gurl On this here French and foreign land. Her tender heart your beauties jog — They do, you know they do, you dog. " You have a graceful way, I learn, Of leaning airily on posts. By which you've been and caused to burn A tender flame on these here coasts. A fisher gurl, I much regret, — Her age, sixteen — her name Babette. 70 THE "BAB" BALLADS. " You '11 marry her, you gentle tar — Your union I myself will bless ; And when you matrimonied are, I will appoint her stewardess." But William hitched himself and sighed. And cleared his throat, and thus replied : — " Not so : unless you 're fond of strife. You 'd better mind your own affairs ; I have an able-bodied wife Awaiting me at Wapping Stairs ; If all this here to her I tell, She '11 larrup me and you as well. B ABETTERS LOVE. 71 " Skin-deep, and valued at a pin, Is beauty such as Venus owns — Her beauty is beneath her skin, And lies in layers on her bones. The other sailors of the crew, They always calls her " Wapping Sue !" " Oho !" the Captain said, " I see ! And is she then so very strong ? " " She 'd take your honor's scrufF," said he, " And pitch you over to Bolong ! " " I pardon you," the Captain said, " The fair Babette you need n't wed." Perhaps the Customs had his will, And coaxed the scornful girl to wed : Perhaps the Captain and his Bill, And William's little wife are dead ; Or p'r'aps they 're all alive and well : I cannot, cannot, cannot tell. TO MY BRIDE. (whoever she may be.) r\H ! little maid ! — (I do not know your name Or who you are, so, as a safe precaution I '11 add) — Oh, huxom widow ! married dame ! (As one of these must be your present portion) Listen, while I unveil prophetic lore for you, And sing the fate that Fortune has in store for you. You'll marry soon — within a year or twain A bachelorof circa two and thirty, Tall, gentlemanly, but extremely plain. And, when you're intimate, you'll call him "Bertie.'' Neat — dresses well ; his temper has been classified As hasty; but he 's very quickly pacified. You '11 find him working mildly at the Bar, After a touch at two or three professions. From easy affluence extremely far ; A brief or two on Circuit — "soup" at Sessions; A pound or two from whist, and backing horses. And, say three hundred from his own resources. (72) TO MY BRIDE. 73 Quiet in harness ;' free from serious vice, His faults are not particularly shady, You'll never find him " shi/" — for, once or twice Already, he 's been driven by a lady, Who parts with him — perhaps a poor excuse for him — Because she hasn't any further use for him. Oh ! bride of mine — tall, dumpy, dark or fair ! Oh ! widow — wife, maybe, or blushing maiden, I've told your fortune ; solved the gravest care With which your mind has hitherto been laden, I 've prophesied correctly, never doubt it ; Now tell me mine — and please be quick about it ! You — only you — can tell me, an' you will, To whom I 'm destined shortly to be mated. Will she run up a heavy modiste's bill ? If so, I want to hear her income stated. (This is a point which interests me greatly), To quote the bard, " Oh ! have I seen her lately ?" Say, must I wait till husband number one Is comfortably stowed away at Woking ? How is her hair most usually done ? And tell me, please, will she object to smoking 7 The color of her eyes, too, you may mention : Come, Sybil, prophesy — I 'm all attention. 7 THE FOLLY OF BROWN. By a General Agent. T KNEW a boor — a clownish card, (His only friends were pigs and cows and The poultry of a small farmyard) Who came into two hundred thousand. Grood fortune worked no change in Brown, Though she 's a mighty social chymist : He was a clown — and by a clown I do not mean a pantomimist. (74) THE FOLLY OF BRO WN. 75 It left him quiet, calm, and cool, Though hardly knowing what a crown was — You can't imagine what a fool Poor rich, uneducated Brown was ! He scouted all who wished to come And give him monetary schooling; And I propose to give you some Idea of his insensate fooling. I formed a company or two — (Of course I don't know what the rest meant, /formed them solely with a view To help him to a sound investment). Their objects were — their only cares — To justify their Boards in showing A handsome dividend on shares, And keep their good 'promoter going. But no — ^the lout prefers his brass. Though shares at par I freely proffer : Yes — will it be believed ? — the ass Declines, with thanks, my well-meant offer 1 He added, with a bumpkin's grin, (A weakly intellect denoting) He 'd rather not invest it in A company of my promoting ! 76 THE "BAB" BALLADS. " Tou have two hundred ' thou* or more," Said I. " You '11 waste it, lose it, lend it : Come, take my furnished second floor, I '11 gladly show you how to spend it." But will it he believed that he. With grin upon his face of poppy, Declined my aid, while thanking me For what he called my " philanthroppy" ? Some blind, suspicious fools rejoice In doubting friends who would n't harm them j They will not hear the charmer's voice. However wisely he may charm them. THE FOLLY OF BROWN. 77 I showed him that his coat, all dust, Top boots and cords provoked compassion, And proved, that men of station must Conform to the decrees of fashion. I showed him where to buy his hat, To coat him, trouser him, and boot him ; But no — ^he would n't hear of that — " He did n't think the style would suit him !' I offered him a county seat. And made no end of an oration ; I made it certainly complete. And introduced the deputation. 7* 78 THE "BAB" BALLADS. But no — the clown my prospects blights-^ (The worth of birth it surely teaches !) " Why should I want to spend my nights In Parliament, a-making speeches ? I have n't never been to school — I ain't had not no eddication — And I should surely be a fool To publish that to all the nation !" I offered him a trotting horse — No hack had ever trotted faster — I also offered him, of course, A rare and curious " old Master." I offered to procure him weeds — Wines fit for one in his position — But, though an ass in all his deeds. He 'd learnt the meaning of " commission.'' THE FOLLY OF BROWN. 79 He called me " thief" the other day, And daily from his door he thrusts me ; Much more of this, and soon I may Begin to think that Brown mistrusts me. So deaf to all sound Reason's rule This poor uneducated clown is, You cannot fancy what a fool Poor rich uneducated Brown is. SIR M ACKLIN. /"\F all the youths I ever saw ^ None were so wicked, vain, or silly, So lost to shame and Sunday law As worldly Tom, and Bob, and Billy. For every Sabbath day they walked (Such was their gay and thoughtless natur) In parks- or gardens, where they talked From three to six, or even later. Sir Macklin was a priest severe In conduct and in conversation. It did a sinner good to hear Him deal in ratiocination. (80) SIR MAOKLIN. 81 He could in every action show Some sin, and nobody could doubt him. He argued high, he argued low. He also argued round about him. He wept to think each thoughtless youth Contained of wickedness a skinful, And burnt to teach the awful truth, That walking out on Sunday's sinful. " Oh, youths," said he, " I grieve to find The course of life you 've been and hit on — Sit down," said he, " and never mind The pennies for the chairs you sit on. " My opening head is ' Kensington,' How walking there the sinner hardens, Which when I have enlarged upon, I go to ' Secondly' — its ' Gardens. 82 THE ''BAB" BALLADS. ' My ' Thirdly ' comprehendeth ' Hyde,' Of Secrecy the guilts and shameses : My ' Fourthly' — ' Park' — its verdure wide — My ' Fifthly ' comprehends ' St. James's.' " That matter settled I shall reach The ' Sixthly' in my solemn tether, And show that what is true of each, Is also true of all, together. ' Then I shall demonstrate to you. According to the rules of Whately, That what is true of all, is true Of each, considered separately" SIB MACKLIN. . 83 In lavish stream his accents flow, Tom, Bob, and Billy dare not flout him ; He argued high, he argued low He also argued round about him. " Ha, ha !" he said, " you loathe your ways, You writhe at these, my words of warning, In agony your hands you raise/' (And so they did, for they were yawning.) To " Twenty-firstly " on they go. The lads do not attempt to scout him ; He argued high, he argued low. He also argued round about him. " Ho, ho !" he cries, "you bow your crests — My eloquence has set you weeping; In sl^ame you bend upon your breasts !" (And so they did, for they were sleeping.) 84 THE "BAB" BALLADS. He proved them this — he proved them that— This good hut wearisome ascetic ; He jumped and thumped upon his hat, He was so very energetic. « His Bishop at this moment chanced To pass, and found the road encumbered ; He noticed how the Churchman danced, And how his congregation slumbered. The hundred and eleventh head The priest completed of his stricture ; " Oh, bosh !" the worthy Bishop said, And walked him off, as in the picture. THE YARN OF THE "NANCY BELL."* 'npWAS on the shores that round our coast From Deal to Ramsgate span, That I found alone, on a piece of stone, An elderly naval man. His hair was weedy, his heard was long. And weedy and long was he. And I heard this wight on the shore recite, In a singular minor key : " Oh, I am a cook and a captain hold. And the mate of the Nancy brig. And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite, * And the crew of the captain's gig." And he shook his fists and he tore his hair. Till I really felt afraid ; For I couldn't help thinking the man had been drinking, And so I simply said : * A version of this ballad is published as a SoDg, by Mr. Jeffreys, Soho Square^ 8 (85) 86 THE " BAB" BALLADS. " Oh, elderly man, it's little I know, Of the duties of men of the sea, And I '11 eat my hand if I understand How you can possibly be " At once a cook, and a captain bold. And the mate of the Nancy brig, And a bo'sun tight and a midshipmite, And the crew of the captain's gig." Then he gave a hitch to his vrousers, which Is a trick all seamen lam, And having got rid of a thumping quid, He spun this painful yarn : " 'T was in the good ship Nanty Bell That we sailed to the Indian sea. And there on a reef we come to grief, Which has often occurred to me. " And pretty nigh all o' the crew was drowned. (There was seventy-seven o' soul). And only ten of the Nancy's men Said ' Here !' to the muster roll. " There was me and the cook and the captain bold, And the mate of the Nancy brig. And the bo'sun tight and a midshipmite. And the crew of the captain's gig. THE YARN OP THE "NANCY BELL:' 87 " For a month we 'd neither wittles nor drink, Till a-hungry we did feel, So, we drawed a lot, and, accordin' shot. The captain for our meal. " The next lot fell to the Nancy's mate. And a delicate dish he made ; Then our appetite with the midshipmite We seven survivors stayed. " And then we murdered the bo' sun tight, And he much resembled pig ; Then we wittled free, did the cook and me, On the crew of the captain's gig. " Then only the cook and me was left. And the delicate question, ' Which Of us two goes to the kettle ? ' arose. And we argued it out as sieh " For I loved that cook as a brother, I did, And the cook he worshipped me ; But we 'd both be blowed if we'd either be stowed In the other chap's hold, you see. " ' I '11 be eat if you dines off me,' says ToM, ' Yes, that,' says I, ' you '11 be,' — ' I 'm boiled if I die, my friend,' quoth I, And ' Exactly so,' quoth he. 88 THE " BAB" BALLADS. " Says he, ' Dear James, to murder me Were a foolish thing to do. For don't you see that you can't cook me, While I can — and will — cook you ! ' " So, he boils the water, and takes the salt And the pepper in portions true (Which he never forgot), and some chopped shalot, And some sage and parsley too. " ' Come here,' says he, with a proper pride, Which his smiling features tell, ' 'T will soothing be if I let you see, How extremely nice you'll smell' " And he stirred it round and round and round, And he sniffed at the foaming froth ; When I ups with his heels, and smothers his squeals In the scum of the boiling broth. *' And I eat that cook in a week or less, And — as I eating be The last of his chops, why I almost drops, For a wessel in sight I see. THE TARN OF THE " NANCY BELL." 89 " And I never larf, and I never smile, And I never lark nor play, But I sit and croak, and a single joke I have — which is to say : " Oh, I am a cook and a captain hold, And the mate of the Nana/ hrig, And a ho'sun tight, and a midshipmite, And the crew of the captain's gig.'" THE BISHOP OF RUM-TI-FOO. T7R0M east and south the holy clan ■*- Of bishops gathered, to a man ; To Synod, called Pan-Anglican ; In flocking crowds they came. Among them was a Bishop, who Had lately been appointed to The balmy isle of Kum-ti-Foo, And Peter was his name. His people — twenty-three in sum — They played the eloquent tum-tum And lived on scalps served up in rum — The only sauce they knew. (90) THE BISHOP OF BUM-TI-FOO. 91 When first good Bishop Peter came (For Peter was that Bishop's name), To humor them, he did the same As they of Rum-ti-Poo. His flock, I 've often heard him tell, (His name was Peter) loved him well, And summoned by the sound of bell, In crowds together came. " Oh, massa, why you go away ? Oh, Massa Peter, please to stay." (They called him Peter, people say, Because it was his name.) He told them all good boys to be, And sailed away across the sea, At London Bridge that Bishop he Arrived one Tuesday night — And as that night he homeward strode To his Pan-Anglican abode He passed along the Borough Road And saw a gruesome sight. He saw a crowd assembled round A person dancing on the ground, Who straight began to leap and bound With all his might and main. 92 THE " BAB" BALLADS. To see that dancing man he stopped, Who twirled and wriggled, skipped and hopped, Then down incontinently dropped, And then sprang up again. The Bishop chuckled at the sight, " This style of dancing would delight A simple Rum-ti-Foozle-ite. I'll learn it, if I can, To please the tribe when I get back." He begged the man to teach his knack. " Eight Reverend Sir, in half a crack," Replied that dancing man. The dancing man he worked away And taught the Bishop every day — The dancer skipped like any fay — G-ood Peter did the same. THE BISHOP OF BUM-TI-FOO. 93 The Bishop buckled to his task With battements, cuts, and pas de basque (I '11 tell you, if you care to ask. That Peter was his name). " Come, walk like this," the dancer said, " Stick out your toes — stick in your head. Stalk on with quick, galvanic tread — Your fingers thus extend ; The attitude 's considered quaint." The weary Bishop, feeling faint, Replied, " I do not say it ain't. But ' Time !' my Christian friend 1" " We now proceed to something new — Dance as the Paynes and Latjeis do. Like this — one, two — one, two — one, two." The Bishop, never proud, I 94 THE "BAB" BALLADS. But in an overwhelming heat (His name was Peter, I repeat) Performed the Payne and Lauri feat, And puflfed his thanks aloud. Another game the dancer planned — " Just take your ankle in your hand, And try, my lord, if you can stand — Your body stiff and stark. If, when revisiting your see, You learnt to hop on shore — like me — The novelty must striking be, And must excite remark." TSE BISHOP OF RUM-TI-FOO. 95 " No," said the worthy Bishop, " No ; That is a length to which, I trow, Colonial Bishops cannot go. You may express surprise At finding Bishops deal in pride^ But, if that trick I ever tried, I should appear undignified In Rum-ti- Foozle's eyes. " The islanders of Rum-ti-Foo Are well-conducted persons, who Approve a joke as much as you, And laugh at it as such ; But if they saw their Bishop land. His leg supported in his hand. The joke they wouldn't understand— 'Twould pain them very much !" THE PRECOCIOUS BABY. A VERT TRUE TALE. ( To he sung to tilt Air of ike " Whistling Oyster,") \ N elderly person — a prophet by trade — ^-^ With his quips and tips On withered old lips, He married a young and a beautiful maid : The cunning old blade Though rather decayed, He married a beautiful, beautiful maid. (96) THE PRECOCIOUS BABY. 97 She was only eighteen, and as fair as could be, With her tempting smiles And maidenly wiles, And he was a trifle of seventy-three : Now what she could see Is a puzzle to me, In a buffer of seventy — seventy-three ! Of all their acquaintances bidden (or bad) With their loud high jinks And underbred winks None thought they 'd a family have — but they had ; A dear little lad Who drove 'em half mad, For he turned out a horribly fast little cad. For when he was born he astonished all by. With their " Law, dear me !" " Did ever you see ?" He 'd a weed in his mouth and a glass in his eye, A hat all awry — An octagon tie, And a miniature — miniature glass in his eye. He grumbled at wearing a frock and a cap, With his " Oh, dear, oh !" And his " Hang it ! you know V 98 THE •' BAB" BALLADS, And he turned up his nose at his excellent pap — " My friends, it's a tap That is not worth a rap." (Now this was remarkably excellent pap.) He 'd chuck his nurse under the chin, and he 'd say, With his " Fal, lal, lal "— " You doosed fine gal !" This shocking precocity drove 'em away : " A month from to-day Is as long as I '11 stay — Then I 'd wish, if you please, for to hook it away. " His father, a simple old gentleman, he With nursery rhyme And " Once on a time, " Would tell him the story of " Little Bo P, " So pretty was she. So pretty and wee, As pretty, as pretty, as pretty could be. " But the babe, with a dig that would startle an ox, With his " C'ck ! Oh, my !— Go along wiz 'oo, fie ! " THE PBMOOCIOUS BABY. Would exclaim, ''I'm aflFaid 'oo a socking ole fox." Now a father it shocks, And it whitens his locks When his little bahe calls him a shocking old fox. The name of his father he 'd couple and pair (With his ill-bred laugh And insolent chaff) With those of the nursery heroines rare Virginia the fair, Or Grood Groldenhair, Till the nuisance was more than a prophet could bear. 99 100 THE "BAB" BALLADS. " There 's Jill and White Cat " (said the little bold brat, With his loud "Ha, ha!" " 'Oo sly ickle pa ! Wiz 'go Beauty, Bo Peep, and 'oo Mrs. Jack Sprat ! I've noticed 'oo pat My pretty White Cat — I sink dear mamma ought to know about dat ! " He early determined to marry and wive. For better or worse With his elderly nurse — Which the poor little boy did n't live to contrive ; His health did n't thrive — No longer alive, He died an enfeebled old dotard at five ! THE PRECOCIOUS BABY. 101 MORAI/. Now elderly men of the bachelor crew, With wrinkled hose And spectacled nose, Don't marry at all — you may take it as true If ever you do The step you will rue. For your babes will be elderly — elderly too. TO PHCEBE. p ENTLE, modest, little flower, ^ Sweet epitome of May, Love me but for half- an -hour, Love me, love me, little fay." Sentences so fiercely flaming In your tiny shell-like ear, I should always be exclaiming If I lovea you. Ii'hcebe dear ! " Smiles that thrill from any distance Shed upon me while I sing ! Please ecstaticize existence, Love me, oh, thou fairy thing!" Words like these, outpouring sadly. You'd perpetually hear. If I loved you, fondly, madly ; — But I do not, Phcebe dear 1 (102 BAINES CAREW, GENTLEMAN. AF all the good attorneys who Have placed their names upon the roll, But few could equal Baines Carew For tenderheartedness and soul. Whene'er he heard a tale of woe From client A or client B, His grief would overcome him so He 'd scarce have strength to take his fee. (103) 104 THE "BAB" BALLADS. It laid him up for many days, When duty led him to distrain, And serving writs, although it pays, Gave him excruciating pain. He made out costs, distrained for rent. Foreclosed and sued, with moistened eye- No bill of costs could represent The value of such sympathy. No charges can approximate The worth of sympathy with woe ; — Although I think I ought to state He did his best to make them so. Of all the many clients who Had mustered round his legal flag. No single client of the crew Was half so dear as Captain Bagg. Now Captain Bagg had bowed him to A heavy matrimonial yoke — His wifey had of faults a few — She never could resist a joke. Her chaff at first he meekly bore Till unendurable it grew. " To stop this persecution sore I will consult my friend Carew. BAINES CAREW, GENTLEMAN. 105 " And when Carew's advice I 've got, Divorce a mensd I shall try " (A legal separation — not A vinculo conjugii). " Oh, Baines Carew, my woe I 've kept A secret, hitherto, you know ;" — (And Baines Carew, Esquire, he wept To hear that Bagg had any woe.) " My case, indeed, is passing sad. My wife — whom I considered true — With brutal conduct drives me mad." " I am appalled," said Baines Carew. 106 THE "BAB" BALLADS. " What ! sound the matrimonial knell Of worthy people such as these ! Why was I an attorney ? Well — Gro on to the sxvitia, please." " Domestic bliss has proved my bane, A harder case you never heard, My wife (in other matters sane) Pretends that I 'm a Dicky bird ! " She makes me sing, ' Too whit, too wee !' And stand upon a rounded stick. And always introduces me To every one as ' Pretty Dick' ! " " Oh, dear," said weeping Baines Carew, This is the direst case I know" — "I'm grieved," said Bagg, " at paining you — To Cobb and Polterthwaite I '11 go — " To Cobb's cold calculating ear My gruesome sorrows I '11 impart" — " No ; stop," said Baines, " I '11 dry my tear, And steel my sympathetic heart ! " " She makes me perch upon a tree. Rewarding me with, ' Sweety — nice !' And threatens to exhibit me With four or five performing mice." BAINES OABEW, GENTLEMAN. 107 " Restrain my tears I wish I could." (Said Baines,) " I don't know what to do" — Said Captain Bagg, " You 're very good." " Oh, not at all," said Baines Carew. " She makes me fire a gun," said Bagg ; " And at a preconcerted word, Climb up a ladder with a flag, Like any street-performing bird. ' She places suear in my way — In public places calls me ' Sweet ! ' She gives me groundsel every day. And hard canary seed to eat." 108 THE "BAB" BALLADS. ■ Oh, woe ! oh, sad ! oh, dire to tell ! " (Said Baines,) " Be good enough to stop.' And senseless on the floor he fell. With unpremeditated flop. Said Captain Bagg, " Well, really I Am grieved to think it pains you so. I thank you for your sympathy ; But, hang it — come — I say, you know ! " But Baines lay flat upon the floor. Convulsed with sympathetic sob — The Captain toddled ofi' next door, And gave the case to Mr. Cobb. THOMAS WINTERBOTTOM HANCE. TN all the towns and cities fair On Merry England's broad expanse, No swordsman ever could compare With Thomas Winterbottom Hance. The dauntless lad could fairly hew A silken handkerchief in twain, Divide a leg of mutton too — And this without unwholesome strain. 10 (109) no TEE " BAB" BALLADS. On whole half-sheep, with cunning trick, His sabre sometimes he 'd employ — No bar of lead, however thick, Had terrors for the stalwart boy. At Dover daily he 'd prepare To hew and slash, behind, before — Which aggravated Monsieur Pierre, Who watched him from the Calais shore. lAil It caused good Pierre to swear and dance, The sight annoyed and vexed him so ; He was the l-ravest man in France — He said so, and he ought to know. THOMAS WINTEBBOTTOM UANOE. Ill " flegardez, done, ce cochon gros — Ce polisson ! Oh, sacr6 bleu ! Son sabre, son plomb, et ses gigots ! Comme cela m'ennuye, enfln, mon Dieu! " II salt que lea foulards de sole Gfive no retaliating whack — Les gigots morts n'ont pas de quoi — Le plomb don't ever hit you back." But every day the headstrong lad Cut lead and mutton more and more ; And every day, poor Pierre, half mad, Shrieked loud defiance from his shore. Hance had a mother, poor and old, A simple, harmless, village dame. Who crowed and clapped as people told Of Winterbottom's rising fame. She said " I '11 be upon the spot To see my Tommy's sabre-play ;" And so she left her leafy cot. And walked to Dover in a day. Pierre had a doting mother, who Had heard of his defiant rage : His ma was nearly ninety-two. And rather dressy for her age. 112 THE ''BAB" BALLADS. At Hance's doings every morn, With sheer delight his mother cried ; And Monsieur Pierre's contemptuous scorn Filled Ms mamma with proper pride. But Hance's powers began to fail — His constitution was not strong — And Pierre, who once was stout and hale, G-rew thin from shouting all day long. Their mothers saw them pale and wan, Maternal anguish tore each breast, And so they met to find a plan To set their oflFsprings' minds at rest. Said Mrs. Hance, " Of course I shrinks From bloodshed, ma'am, as you 're aware. But still they 'd better meet, I thinks." " Assurfement ! " said Madame Pierre. THOMAS WINTERBOTTOM HANCE. 113 A sunny spot in sunny Prance Was hit upon for this affair ; The ground was picked hy Mrs. Hance, The stakes were pitched hy Madame Pieere. Said Mrs. H., " Your work you see — Gro in, my noble boy, and win." ' En garde, mon fils ! ' said Madame P. " AUons ! " " Go on ! " "En garde ! " ' Begin I" (The mothers were of decent size, Though not particularly tall ; But in the sketch that meets your eyes I 've been obliged to draw them small.) 114 TBE " BAB" BALLADS. Loud sneered the doughty man of France, " Ho ! ho ! Ho ! ho ! Ha ! ha ! Ha ! ha !" " The French for ' Pish !' " said Thomas Hance. Said Pierre, " L' Anglais, Monsieur, pour ' Bah.' Said Mrs. H., " Come, one ! two ! three ! — We're sittin' here to see all fair; ' C'est Magnifique !" said Madame P., " Mais, parbleu ! ce n'est pas la guerre !" " Je scorn un foe si laehe que vous !" Said Pierre, the doughty son of France. " I fight not coward foe, like you \" Said our undaunted Tommy Hance. " The French for ' Pooh !' " our Tommy cried. " L' Anglais pour ' Va' " the Frenchman crowed. And so with undiminished pride Each went on his respective road. THE REVEREND MICAH SOWLS. nnHE Reverend Micah Sowls, He shouts, and yells, and howls, He screams, he mouths, he bumps, He foams, he rants, he thumps. His armor he has buckled on to wage The regulation war against the Stage ; And warns his congregation all to shun " The Presence Chamber of the Evil One.' (115) 116 TSE -BAB" BALLADS. The subject 's sad enough To make him rant and pu£F, And fortunately, too, His Bishop 's in a pew. So Reverend Micah claps on extra steam, His eyes are flashing with superior gleam. He is as energetic as can be. For there are fatter livings in that see. The Bisbop, when it 's o'er, Goes through the vestry door Where MiCAH, very red. Is mopping of his head. " Pardon, my Lord, your SowLs' excessive zeal, It is a theme on which I strongly feel." (The sermon somebody had sent him down Erom London, at a charge of half-a-crown.) TEE BEVEBEND MIC AH 80WLS. 117 The Bishop bowed his head And acquiescing, said, "I've heard your well-meant rage Against the Modern Stage . " A modern Theatre, as I heard you say, Sows seeds of evil broad-cast : well, it may — But let me ask you, my respected son, Pray, have you ever ventured into one ?" " My Lord," said Micah, " No ! I never, never go ! What ! Go and see a play ? My goodness gracious, nay ! " The worthy Bishop said, " My friend, no doubt The stage may be the place you make it out ; But if, my Reverend Sowls, you never go, I don't quite understand how you're to know." " Well, really," Micah said, " I 've often heard and read, But never go — do you ?" The Bishop said, " I do." " That proves me wrong," said MiOAH, in a trice j " I thought it all frivolity and vice." The Bishop handed him a counter plain ; " Just take this stall and go to Drury Lane." 118 THE " BAB'' BALLADS. The Bishop took his leave, Rejoicing in his sleeve. The next ensuing day SoWLS went and heard a play. He saw a dreary person on the stage, Who mouthed and mugged in simulated rage-^ Who growled and spluttered in a mode ahsurd, And spoke an English Sowls had never heard. For " gaunt " wast spoken "garnt," And ''haunt" transformed to "harnt," And " wrath " pronounced as " rath," And " death " was changed to " dath." THE REVEREND MIC AH SOWLS. 119 For hours and hours that dismal actor walked Aod talked, and talked, and talked, and talked, Till lethargy upon the parson crept. And sleepy MiCAH SowLS serenely slept. He slept away until The farce that closed the bill Had warned him not to stay, And then he went away. " I thought," said he, " /was a dreary thing, I thought my voice quite destitute of ring, I thought my ranting could distract the brain, But oh ! I had n't been to Drury Lane. " Forgive me, Drury Lane, Thou penitential fane. Where sinners should be cast To mourn their wicked past ! " A DISCONTENTED SUGAR BROKER. A GENTLEMAN of City fame ■^ Now claims your kind attention ; East India broking was his game, His name I shall not mention : No one of finely pointed sense Would violate a confidence, And shall I go And do it? No! His name I shall not mention. (120) A DISCONTENTED SUGAR BROKER. 121 He had a trusty wife and true, And very eozy quarters, A manager, a boy or two. Six clerks, and seven porters. A broker must be doing well As any lunatic can tell) Who can employ An active boy. Six clerks and seven porters. His knocker advertised no dun. No losses made him sulky, He had one sorrow — only one — He was extremely bulky. A man must be, I beg to state. Exceptionally fortunate Who owns his chief And only grief Is — being very bulky. •' This load," he 'd say, " I cannot bear, I 'm nineteen stone or twenty ! Henceforward I '11 go in for air And exercise in plenty." Most people think that, should it come, They can reduce a bulging turn To measures fair By taking air And exercise in plenty. 11 122 THE "BAB" BALLADS, In every weather, every day, Dry, muddy, wet, or gritty, He took to dancing all the way From Brompton to the City. You do not often get the chance, Of seeing sugar-brokers dance, From their abode In Fulham Road Through Brompton to the City. He braved the gay and guileless laugh Of children with their nusses, The loud uneducated chaff Of clerks on omnibuses. Against all minor things that rack A nicely balanced mind, I 'II back The noisy laugh And ill-bred laugh Of clerks on omnibuses. His friends, who heard his money chink, And saw the house he rented, And knew his wife, could never think What made him discontented. It never entered their pure minds That fads are of eccentric kinds. Nor would they own That fat alone Could make one discontented. A DISCONTENTED SUGAR BROKER. 123 " Your riches know no kind of pause, Your trade is fast advancing, You dance — but not for joy, because You weep as you are dancing. To dance implies that man is glad. To weep implies that man is sad. But here are you Who do the two — You weep as you are dancing \" 124 THE "BAB" BALLADS. His mania soon got noised about And into all the papers — His size increased beyond a doubt For all his reckless capers : It may seem singular to you, But all his friends admit it true- The more he found His figure round, The more he cut his capers. His bulk increased — no matter that— He tried the more to toss it — He never spoke of it as " fat " But " adipose deposit." Upon my word, it seems to me Unpardonable vanity (And worse than that) To call your fat An " adipose deposit." A DISCONTENTED SUGAR BROKER. 125 At length his brawny knees gave