liJ (LJ V !>=. They tliink him, all around, The mildest curate going. ONLY A DANCINa GIRL. Only a dancing girl, With an unromantic style, Witli borrowed colour and curl, With fixed mechanical smile. With many a hackneyed wile. With ungrammatical lips, And corns that mar her trips. Hung from the " flies " in air, She acts a palpable lie, She 's as little a fairy there 30 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. As nnpoetical I ! I hear you asking, Why — Why in the world J 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 Guffer, I 'm told, From bunions, coughs, or cold. And stately dames that bring Their daughters there to see. Pronounce the " dancing thing " No better than she should be, With her skirt at her shameful ]j:nee 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 ; 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 ! GENERAL JOHN. The bravest names for fire and flames, And all that mortal durst, Were General John and Private James, Of the Sixty-seventy-first. General John was a soldier tried, A chief of warlike dons ; A haughty stride and a withering pride Were Major-General John's. THE '^ BAB'' BALLADS. A sneer would play on his martial phiz, Superior birth to show ; . •* Pish ! " was a favourite word of his, And he often said " Ho ! ho ! " Full- 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, J '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 't is so " " Pish ! " proudly sneered his General John, And he also said " Ho ! ho ! " GENERAL JOHN. " My General John ! my General Jolin ! 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 ISo need your breath to waste ; If this is a joke, Fall- Private James, It's a joke of doubtful taste. "But, being a man of doubtless worth, If you feel certain quite That we were probably changed at birth I '11 venture to say you 're right." 23 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. Come 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 tliough its couch be rude, Homely the only food Within 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 statelv Pentonville ! JOHN AND EREDDT. John courted lovely Mary Ann, So likewise did his brother Freddy. Fred was a very soft young man, While John, though quick, was Jnost unsteady Foung Fred had grace all men above, But John was very much the strongest. "Oh, dance," said she " to win my love — 1 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. Uaal/^ 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. 26 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. Now Freddy's operatic 'pm — Now Johnny's hornpipe seems entrappin^^ Now Freddy's graceful emirechaU — 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. " Oh, my," said he, with solemn frown, " I tremble for each dancing /Vai^r, 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, JOHN AND FREDDY. 27 For months both. Jolin 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. hoJLr " Decide ! " quoth the}'-, " 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 Freddy, " Here is goings on ! To bust myseK 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. SIE GUT THE CEUSADER Sir Guy was a doughty crusader, A muscular knight, Ever ready to fight, A very determined invader, And Dickey de Lion's delight. 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 corypMe pretty and loyal, In amber and red, The ballet she led ; Her mother performed at the Royal, Lenore at the Saracen's Head. SIR GUY THE CRUSADER. 29 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. Her father incessantly lashed her. On water and bread She was grudgingly fed ; Whenever her father he thrashed her Her mother sat down on her head. Guy saw her and loved her, with reason. For beauty so bright Sent 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 ! 30 THE "BAB'' BALLADS. " You 're a turband old Turk, and malignant— Your daughter Lenore I intensely adore, And I cannot help feeling indignant, A fact that 1 hinted before. " To see a fond father employing A deuce of a knout For to bang lier about, To a sensitive lover 's annoying." Said the bagman, " Crusader, get out." S;iy3 Guy, " Shall a warrior lader? 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 armour At Mr. Ben-Samuel's suit. Sir Guy 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 Haunted ? Ay, in a social way By a body cf ghosts in a 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 dickey I 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 tank 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. 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 — 32 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. Are the horrible ghosts that school-days scared : If the classical ghost that Brutus dared Was the ghost of his " Caesar " 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-rooin 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, And thousands more, I suffer. The only line to fitly grace My humble tomb, when I 've run my race, Is, " Reader, this is the resting-place Of an unsuccessful duffer." I '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 BUSMAK It 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, ind Solomon and Zabulon- This bus-directing Jew. 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." 34 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. At first the busman smiled, And rather liked the fun — He merely smiled, that Hebrew child, And said, " Eccentric one ! " 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 na'ne is Hash Baz Ben, And Jedediah too, And Solomon and Zabulon — This bus-directing Jew." But though at first amused. Yet after seven years, This Hebrew child got awful riled, And busted into tears. THE BISHOP AND THE BUSMAN, 35 He really almost feared To leave his poor abode, His nose, and name, and beard became A byword on that road. At length he 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 — " ShaU I be freed ? " " You will, indeed ! » Th€n " Done ! " said he, " with you ! " 36 THE '' BAB'' BALLADS. 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 auburi] hair- His wife is far from plain. THE TEOUBADOIJR. A TROUBADOUR he played Without a castle wall, Within, a hapless maid Responded to his call. " Oh, willow, woe is me ! Alack and well-a-day ! If 1 were only free I 'd hie me far away ! " Unknown her face and name, But this he knew right well. The maiden's wailing came From 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." 38 7HE ''BAB'' BALLADS, Her tears tlien ceased to flow, Her wails no longer rang, And tuneful in her woe The prisoned maiden sang : " Oh, stranger, as you play, I recognize your touch ; And all that I can say Is, thank you very much." He seized his clarion straight, And blew thereat, until A warden oped the gate. " Oh, what might be j^our will ? '* " 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 Eye. Sir Hugh he darkly frowned, "What would you, sir, with me ?* The troubadour he dowTied Upon his bended knee. THE TROUBADOUR. 39 " I 've come, De Peckham Eye, 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 — " Come out, you cad, and fight I' 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. 40 THE " BAB " BALLADS. He called inside the gate With coarse and brutal shout, " Come, step it, Forty-eight ! " And Forty -eight stepped out. " They gets it pretty hot, The maidens wot 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. FERDIXANDO AND ELYIEA; Or, the Gentle Pieman. PART I. At 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. 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, dis- agree with you ? 42 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. But spite of all I said, ter sobs grew more and more distressing, And she tore her pretty back hair, which had taken long in dressing. Then she gazed upon the carpet, at the ceiling, then above me, And she whispered, " Ferdinando, do you really, really love me ? " " Love you ? " said I, 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 I " Tell me whither I may hie me — tell me, dear one, that I may know — Is it up the highest Andes ? down a horrible vol- cano ? " But she said, " It isn'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 bon-bon mottoes my Elvira pulls at supper ? " But Henry Wadsworth smiled, and said he had not had that honour ; 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 ra^e enormous. FERDINANDO AND ELVIRA, 43 Mister Close expressed a wish that lie could only get anigh to me ; And Mister Martin Tupper sent the following reply to me : *' A fool is bent upon a twig, but wise men dread a bandit," — Which I know was very clever ; but I didn't under- stand it. Seven weary years I wandered — Patagonia, China, Norway, Till at last I san"k 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 cosy. 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, " 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 could be dearer — If I am not humming 'Tra ! la ! la !' I'm singing * Tirer, lirer ! ' " First I go and make the patties, and the puddings, and the jellies. Then I make a sugar bird-cage, which upon a table swell is : 44 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. " Then I polisli all tlie 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 pie- man, you astound me ! " 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 1 LOEENZO DE LASDT. Dalilah de Dardy adored Tlie very correctest of cards, Lorenzo de Lardy, a lord — He was one of Her Majesty's Guards. Dalilah de Dardy was fat, Dalilah de Dardy was old — (No doubt in the world about that), But Dalilah de Dardy had gold. 46 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 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 favourite freaks Was to hide himself three times a year In Paris, for several weeks. Many days didn't pass him before He fanned himself into a flame For a beautiful " Dam du Comptwore," And this was her singular name : Alice Eulaxie Coraline Euphrosine Colombina Therese Juliette Stephanie Celestine Charlotte Russe 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 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 : '-'■ Coraline Celestine Eulalie, Houp la ! Je vous aime, oui, mossoo, Combien donnez moi aujourd' hui Bonjour, Mademoiselle, parlez voo." Mademoiselle de la Sauce 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, currie lamb, Bouldogue, two franc half, quite ze cheese, Rosbif, me spik Angleesh godam." LORENZO DE LARDY. 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 Milore — He loved de la Sauce Mayonnaise. He said to her, " Mechante Therese, Avec desespoir tu m'accables. Pense tu, de la Sauce Mayonnaise, Ses intentions sent honorables ? " Flirtez toujours, ma belle, si tu ose? — Je me vengerai ainsi, ma chere, Je le dirai de quoi on compose Vol au vent d la Financiere ! " Lord Lardy knew nothing of this- The waiter's devotion ignored, But he gazed on the beautiful miss, And never seemed weary or bored. 47 48 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 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 corvphee. Who danced in the hindermost rows At the Theatre des Vari^tes. r.Iademoiselle de la Sauce Mayonnaise Didn't yield to a gnawing despair, But married a soldier, and plays As a pretty and pert Vivandiere. DISILLUSIONED. By an Ex-Enthusiast. Oh 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 ! 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 • 50 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 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. 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 Is 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 wTite 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. Babette 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. Jacot was, of the Customs bold An officer, at gay Boulogne ; He loved Babette— his love he told And sighed, " Oh, soyez vous ma own !^ But " Non ! " said she, " Jacot, my pet, Vous etes trop scraggy pour Babette 52 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. " Of one alone I nightly dream, An able mariner is he, And gaily serves the Gen'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 ! " '^cub " Oh, mon ! " exclaimed the Customs bold, "Mes yeux !" he said, which means "my eye. "Oh, chere !" he also cried, I'm told, " Par Jove," he added, with a sigh. "Oh, mon ! oh, chere ! mes yeux ! par Jove ! Je n'aime pas cet enticing cove I " The Fantlfierh captain stood hard by, He was a man of morals strict. If e'er a sailor winked his eye. Straightway he had that sailor licked, Mastheaded 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 'b human natur', p'raps — if so, Oh, isn't human natur' low ! " B ABETTERS LOVE, 53 He called his Bill, who pulled his curl : 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 wliich 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. " 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 'U larrup me, and you as well. 54 THE ''BAB'* BALLADS. " 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 1 ' '^ " Oho ! " the captain said, " I see ! And is she then so very strong ? " " She 'd take your honour's scruff," said he, " And pitch you over to Belong ! " " I pardon you," the captain said, " The fair Babette you needn'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'raps they 're all alive and well ; I cannot, cannot, cannot tell. TO MY BRIDE. (whoever she may be.) Oh ! little maid ! — (I do not know your name Or who you are, so, as a safe precaution, I '11 add) — Oh, buxom 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 '11 marry soon — within a year or twain — A bachelor of 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 classLlied As hasty ; but he 's very quickly pacified. 70 MY BRIDE. 55 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. Quiet in harness ; free from serious vice. His faults are not particularly shady. You '11 never find him " sliy " — 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 ? The colour of her eyes, too, you may mention ; Come, Sibyl, prophesy — I 'm all attention. THE FOLLY OF BEOWN By a General Agent. I KNEW a boor — a clownisli card, (His only friends were pigs and cows and The poultry of a small farmyard) Who came into two hundred thousand. Good 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. 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 j And I propose to give you some Idea of his insensate fooling. THE POLL V OF BRO IVR. 57 I formed a company or two — (Of course, I don't know what the rest meant : I 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 sticks to his brass. Though shares at par I freely proffer : Yes — will it be believed ? — the ass Declines, with thanks, my well-meant offer. He added, with a bumpkin's grin (A weakly intellect denoting). He 'd rather not invest it in A company of my promoting ! " You have two hundred * thou ' or more," Said L " You '11 waste it, lose it, lend it ; Come, take my furnished second floor, 1 '11 gladly show you how to spend it.** 58 THE '' BAB'' BALLADS, But will it be 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 wouldn't harm them; They will not hear the charmer's voice, However wisely he may charm them ! 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 wouldn't hear of that — " He didn't think the style would suit him !" I offered him a county seat, And made no end of an oration ; 1 made it certainty complete. And introduced the deputation. THE FOLL V OF BRO WN. 59 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 haven'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/ He called me "thief" the other day. And daily from his door he thrusts me ; Much more of this, and sooji I may, Begin to think that Brown mistrusts me. So deaf to all sound Reason's rule This poor uneducated clown is, You canrioi fancy what a fool Poor rich uneducated Brown is. SIE MACKLIN. Of all the youths I ever saw None were so wicked, vain, or silly, So lost to shame and Sabbath 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. 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 S^>iiday 's sinfuL SIR MACKLIN. 6i *' 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. ' " My * Thirdly ' comprehendeth ' Hyde,' Of Secresy 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 Whateley, That what is true of all, is true Of each, considered separately " In lavish stream his accents flow, Tom, Bob, and Billy dare not fiout him $ He argued high, he argued low. He also argued round about him. 62 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. " 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 shame you bend upon your breasts ! " (And so they did, for they were sleeping.) He proved them this — he proved them that- This good but wearisome ascetic ; He jumped and thumped upon his hat- He was so very energetic. His Bishop at this momei.t 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 YAKN OF THE "NANCY BELL." 'T WAS on the shores that round our coast From Deal to Eamsgate span, That 1 found alone on a piece of stone An elderly naval man. His hair was weedy, his beard 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 the 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." And he shook his fists and he tore his hair, TiU I really felt afraid. For I couldn't help thinking the man had been drinking. And so I simply said : " 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 trousers, which Is a trick all seamen lam, And having got rid of a thumping quid, He spun this painful yarn : 64 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. " T was in the good ship Nancy 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 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. " 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 ressembled 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 sich. " 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. YARN OF THE ''NANCY BELL:' 65 •' 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 l' " 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 '11 smell.' " And he stirred it round and round and round, And he sniffed at the foaming froth ; When I ups with his heals, 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 vessel in sight I see. " And I never larf, and I never smile, And I never lark nor play. But sit and croak, and a single joke I have — which is to say : " Oh, I am 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 ! ' THE BISHOP OF EUM-TI-FOO. From 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 Rum-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. When first good Bishop Peter came (For Peter was that Bishop's name), To humour them, he did the same As they of Rum-ti-Foo. His flock, I 've often heard him tell, (His name was Peter) loved him well, And, summoned by the sound of bell. THE BISHOP OF R UM- TI-FOO. 67 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. 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-Foozleite. I'll learn it if I can, To please the tribe when I get back." He begged the man to teach his knack. " Right Reverend Sir, in half a crack !" Replied that dancing man. 58 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, The dancing man he worked away And taught the Bishop every day — The dancer skipped like any fay — Good Peter did the same. The Bishop buckled to his task "With hattements, cuts, and %ias 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, Keplied, " I do not say it ain't. But ' Time ! ' my Christian friend." *' We now proceed to something new — Dance as the Paynes and Lauris do. Like this — one, two — one, two — one two." The Bishop, never proud, But in an overwhelming heat (His name was Peter, I repeat) Performed the Payne and Lauri fyat, And puffed 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, THE BISHOP OF RUM-TI-FOO. 69 You learnt to hop on shore —like me — The novelty would striking be, And must attract remark." " 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, 1 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 — 'T would pain them very much ! " THE PEECOCIOUS BABY. A VERY True Tale. (To he sung to the Air of the " Wliistling Oyster") An 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. She was only eighteen, and as fair as could be, With her tempting smiles And maidenly wiles, And he was a trifle oft' seventy-three : Now what she could see Is a puzzle to me, In a buffer of seventy — seventy-three ! THE PRECOCIOUS BABY. 71 Of all their acquaintances bidden (or bad) With tbeir 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 ! " 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, Withhis"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," 72 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. But the babe, with a dig that would startle an ox, With his " C'ck ! oh, my !— Go along wiz 'oo, fie ! " Would exclaim, " I 'm afraid 'oo a socking ole fox." Now a father it shocks, And it whitens his locks, When his little babe 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 Good Goldenhair, Till the nuisance was more than a prophet could bear. THE PRECOCIOUS BABY. 73 "There 's JiU and AVliite Cat" (said the bold Uttle brat, With his loud "Ha, ha!") " 'Oo sly ickle pa ! Wiz '00 Beauty, Bo-Peep, and '00 Mrs. Jack Sprat 1 I 've noticed '00 pat My pretty white cat — I sink daar 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 didn't live to contrive : His health didn't thrive — No longer alive, He died an enfeebled old dotard at five ! MORAL. 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 PHGEBE. " Gentle, 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 exclaming If I loved you, Phcebe dear. " Smiles that thrill from any distance Shed upon me while 1 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. BAINES CAEEW, GENTLEMAN. Of all the good attorneys who Have placed their names upon the roll, But few oould equal Baines Carew For tender-heartedness 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 strenj^th to take his fee. 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 1 think I ought to state He did his best to make them so. 36 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 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. " 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 1 considered true — With brutal conduct drives me mad." " I am appalled," said Baines Carew. BAINES CAREW, GENTLEMAN. 77 " "What ! sound the matrimonial knell Of worthy people such as these ! Why was I an attorney ? Well — Go on to the soevitia, please." " Domestic bliss has proved my bane, A harder case you never heard, — My wife (in other matters sane) Pretends that I 'm a Dickey 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 knov/." " I 'm grieved," said Bagg, " at paining vou — To Cobb and Poltherthwaite 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." " Restrain my tears I wish 1 could " (Said Baines), " I don't know what to do." Said Captain Bagg, " You 're very good." " Oh, not at all," said Baines Carew. 78 THE '' BAB'' BALLADS. " 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 sugar in my way, In public places calls me * Sweet ! ' She gives me groundsel every day, And hard canary-seed to eat." " 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 off next door. And gave the case to Mr Cobb. THOMAS WINTEEBOTTOM HANCEL In 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. On whole half-sheep, with cunning trick, Hie 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. 8o THE ^'BAB" BALLADS. It caused good Pierre to swear and dance, The sight annoyed and vexed him so ; He was the bravest man in France — He said so, and he ought to know. " Regardez done, ce cochon gros — Ce polisson ! Oh, sacre bleu ! Son sabre, son plomb, et ses gigots ! Comme cela m'ennuye, enfin, mon Dieu ! ' n sait que less foulards de soie Give no retaliating whack — Les gigots morts n'ort 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 ma*], 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. THOMAS WINTERBOTTOM HANCE. 8i Pierre had a doating mother, who Had heard of his defiant rage : His Ma was nearly ninety-two, And rather dressy for her age. At Hance's doings every morn, With sheer delight ]iis mother cried ; And Monsieur Pierre's contemptuous scorn Filled his mamma with proper pride. But Hance's powers began to fail — His constitution was not strong — And Pierre, who once was stout and hale, Grew 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 offsprings' 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." " Assurement ! " said Madame Pierre. A sunny spot in sunny France Was hit upon for this affair ; The ground was picked by Mrs. Hance, The stakes were pitched by Madame Pierre. Said Mrs. H., " Your work you see — Go in my noble boy, and win." *'En garde, mon fik !' said Madame P. " Allons !" " Go on !" " En garde !" '•' Begin 1" 82 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. (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.) 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 ne'st pas la guerre !" " Je scorn un foe si lache 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 EEYEEEND MICAH SOWLS. The Reverend Micah Sowls, He shouts and yells and howls, He screams, he mouths, he bumps, He foams, he rants, he thumps. His armour he has buckled on, to wage The regulation war against t*he Stage ; And warns his congregation all to shun ' The Presence-Chamber of the Evil One." The subject's sad enough To make him rant and puff,, 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. 84 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. The Bishop, when it 's o^er, Goes through the vestry door, Where Micah, very red, Is mc^Ding 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 From London, at a charge of half-a-crown.) 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, 3ows seeds of evil broadcast : well, it may; But let me ask you, my respected son. Pray, havo you ever ventured into one ? " " My Lord," said Micah, " no ! I never, never go ! What ! Go and see a play V 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." THE REVEREND MICAH SOWLS. 85 " Well, really," Micah said, " 1 Ve often heard and read, But never go — do you ? " The Bishop said, " I do." '''- That proves me wrong," said Micah, in a trice j " 1 thought it all frivolity and vice." The Bishop handed him a counter plain ; " Just take this stall and go to Drury Lane." 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, ^\iQ mouthed and mugged in simulated rage. Who growled and spluttered in a mode absurd, And spoke an English Sowls had never heard. For " gaunt " was spoken " garnt," And "haunt" transformed to "harnt," And " wrath " pronounced as " rath," And " death " was changed to " dath." 86 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. For hours and hours that dismal actor walked And 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, " I was a dreary thing, I thought my voice quite destitute of ring, 1 thought mi/ ranting could distract the brain. But oh ! I hadn't been to Drury Lane. " Forgive me, Drury Lane, Thou penitential fane. Where sinners should be cast To mourn their wicked past ! " A DISCONTENTED SIJGAE BEOKEE, A GENTLEMAN of City fame Now claims your kind attention ; East India broking was Ms game, His name I shall not mention : No one of finely-pointed sense Would violate a confidence, And shall / go And do it ? No ! His name I shall not mention,, He had a trusty wife and true. And very cosy 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. 88 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. His knocker advertised no dun, No losses made him sulky, He had one sorrow — only one — He was extremely bulky. A man mu^t 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 tum To measures fair By taking air And exercise in plenty. 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 '11 back The noisy chaff And ill-bred laugh Of clerks on omnibuses. DISCONTENTED SUGAR BROKER. 89 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 Mould they own That fat alone Could make one discontented. " 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 ! " His mania soon got noised about And into all the papers ; His size increased beyond a doubt For all his reckless capers : It mav seem singular to you. QO THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 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." At length his brawny knees gave way, And on the carpet sinking, Upon his shapeless back he lay And kicked away like winking. Instead of seeing in his state The finger of unswerving Fate, He laboured still To work his will, And kicking away like winking. His friends, disgusted with him now, Away in silence wended. I hardly like to tell you how This dreadful story ended. The shocking sequel to impart, I must employ the limner's art — If you would know. This sketch will show How his exertions ended. DISCONTENTED SUGAR BROKER, 91 MORAL. I hate to preach — I hate to prate — I 'm no fanatic croaker, But learn contentment from the fate Of this East India broker. He 'd everything a man of taste Could ever want, except a waist ; And discontent His size anent, And bootless perseverance blind, Completely wrecked the peace of mind Of this East India broker. THE PANTOMIME "SUPER" TO HIS MASK. Vast emptj^ shell ! Impertinent, preposterous abortion ! With vacant stare, And ragged hair, And every feature out of all proportion ! Embodiment of echoing inanity ! Excellent type of simpering insanity ! Unwieldy, clumsy nightmare of humanity ! I ring thy knell ! To-night thou diest, Beast that destroy'st my heaven-born identity ! Nine weeks of nights Before the lights, Swamped in thine own preposterous nonentity, I 've been ill-treated, cursed ,and thrashed diurnally, Credited for the smile you wear externally — I feel disposed to smash thy face, infernally, As there thou liest ! I 've been thy brain : I 've been the brain that lit thy dull concavity ! The human race Invest my face With thine expression of unchecked depravity. Invested with a ghastly reciprocity, / 've been responsible for thy monstrosity, I, for thy wanton, blundering ferocity — But not again ! 'T is time to toll Thy knell, and that of follies pantomimical : A nine weeks' run, And thou hast done " SUPER " TO HIS MASK. 93 All thou canst do to make thyself inimicaL Adieu, embodiment of all inanity ! Excellent type of simpering insanity ! Unwieldy, clumsy nightmare of humanity ! Freed is thy soul ! {The Mash respondefh.) Oh ! master mine, Look thou within thee, ere again ill-using me. Art thou aAvare Of nothing there Which might abuse thee, as thou art abusing me ? A brain that mourns thine unredeemed rascality ? A soul that weeps at thy threadbare morality ? Both grieving that their individuality Is merged in thine ? THE FOECE OF ARGUMENT. Lord B. was a nobleman bold Who came of illustrious stocks, He was thirty or forty years old, And several feet in his socks. To Turniptopville-by-the-Sea This elegant nobleman went, For that was a borough that he Was anxious to rep-per-re-sent. At local assemblies he danced Until he felt thoroughly ill — He waltzed, and he galoped, and lanced, And threaded the mazy quadrille. The maidens of Turniptopville Were simple — ingenuous — pure — And they all worked away with a will The nobleman's heart to secure. Two maidens all others beyond Imagined their chances looked well — The one was the lively Ann Pond, The other sad Mary Morell. Ann Pond had determined to try And carry the Earl with a rush ; Her principal feature was eye. Her greatest accomplishment — gush. THE FORCE OF ARGUMENT. 95 And Mary chose this for her play : Whenever he looked in her eye She 'd blush and turn quickly away, And flitter, and flutter, and sigh. It was noticed he constantly sighed As she worked out the scheme she had planned, A fact he endeavoured to hide With his aristocratical hand. Old Pond was a farmer, they say. And so was old Tommy Morell. In a humble and pottering way They were doing exceedingly well. They both of them carried by vote The Earl was a dangerous man ; So nervously clearing his throat, One morning old Tommy began : " My darter 's no pratty young doll — I 'm a plain-spoken Zommerzet man- Now what do 'ee mean by my Poll, And what do 'ee mean by his Ann ? " 56 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. Said B., "I will give you my bond I mean them uncommonly well, Believe me, my excellent Pond, And credit me, worthy Morell. " It 's quite indisputable, for I '11 prove it with singular ease, — You shall have it in ' Barbara ' or ' Celarent ' — whichever you please. " You see, when an anchorite bows To the yoke of intentional sin — If the state of the country allows, Homogeny always steps in — " It 's a highly aesthetical bond. As any mere ploughboy can tell " " Of course," replied puzzled old Pond. " I see," said old Tommy Morell. " Very good, then," continued the lord ; " When it 's fooled to the top of its bent, With a sweep of a Damocles sword The web of intention is rent. THE FORCE OF ARGUMENT, 97 " That 's patent to all of us here, As any mere schoolboy can tell." Pond answered, " Of course it's quite clear ;" And so did that humbug Morell. " Its tone 's esoteric in force— I trust that I make myself clear ? " — Morell only answered, " Of course," While Pond slowly muttered, " Hear, hear," " Volition — celestial prize, Pellucid as porphyry cell — Is based on a principal wise." " Quite so," exclaimed Pond and Morell. " From what I have said you will see Tliat I couldn't wed either — in fine, By Nature's unchanging decree Yowr daughters could never be mine. '' Go home to your pigs and your ricks, My hands of the matter I 've rinsed." So they take up their hats and their sticks, And exeunt ambo, convinced. THE GHOST, THE GALLANT, THE GAEL, AND THE GOBLIN. O'er unreclaimed surbiirban clays Some years ago were hobblin' An elderly ghost of easy ways, And an influential goblin. The ghost was a sombre spectral shape, A fine old five-act fogy, The goblin imp, a lithe young ape, A fine low-comedy bogy. THE GHOST, THE GALLANT, ETC. 99 And as they exercised their joints, Promoting quick digestion, They talked on several curious points, And raised this delicate question : " Which of us two is Number One — The ghostie, or the goblin ? " And o'er the point they raised in fun They fairly fell a-squabblin'. They 'd barely speak, and each, in fine, Grew more and more reflective : Each thought his own particular line By chalks the more eff'ective. At length they settled some one should By each of them be haunted, And so arrange that either could Exert his prowess vaunted. *' The Quaint against the Statuesque " — By competition lawful — The goblin backed the Quaint Grotesque, The ghost the Grandly Awful. '' Now," said the goblin, " here 's my plan — In attitude commanding 1 see a stalwart Englishman By yonder tailor's standing. " The very fittest man on earth My influence to try on — Of gentle, pVaps of noble birth. And dauntless as a lion ! Now wrap yourself within your shroud — Remain in easy hearing — Observe — you '11 liear him scream aloud When I begin appearing ! The imp with yell unearthly — wild — Threw off his dark enclosure : His dauntless victim looked and smiled With singular composure. For hours he tried to daunt the youth, For days, indeed, but vainly — The stripling smiled ! — to tell the truth, The stripling smiled inanely. xoo THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. For weeks the goblin weird and wild That noble stripling haunted ; For weeks the stripling stood and smiled Unmoved and all undaunted. The sombre ghost exclaimed, " Your plan Has failed you, goblin, plainly. Now watch yon hardy Hieland man, So stalwart and ungainly. *' These are the men who chase the roe, Whose footsteps never falter. Who bring with them, where'er they go, A smack of old Sir Walter. Of such as he, the men sublime Who lead their troops victorious, Whose deeds go down to after-time Enshrined in annals glorious ! " Of such as he the bard has said ' Hech thrawfu' raltie rorkie ! Wi' thecht ta' croonie clapperhead THE GHOST, THE GALLANT, ETC. loj And fash' wi' unco pawkie ! ' He '11 faint away when I appear Upon his native heather ; Or p'r'aps he '11 only scream with fear, Or p'r'aps the two together." The spectre showed himself, alone, To do his ghostly battling, With curdling groan and dismal moan And lots of chains a-rattling ! But no — the chiel's stout Gaelic stuff Withstood all ghostly harrying ; His fingers closed upon the snuff Which upwards he w^as carrying. For days that ghost declined to stir, A foggy shapeless giant — For weeks that splendid officer Stared back again defiant ! Just as the Englishman returned I02 THE ''BAB'* BALLADS. The goblin's vulgar staring, Just so the Scotchman boldly spurned The ghost's unmannered scaring. For several years the ghostly twain These Britons bold have haunted, But all their efforts are in vain — Their victims stand undaunted. This very day the imp, and ghost. Whose powers the imp derided, Stand each at his allotted post — The bet is undecided. THE PHANTOM CUEATE. A Fable. A Bishop once — I will not name his see — Annoyed his clergy in the mode conventional ; From pulpit shackles never set them free, And found a sin where sin was unintentional. All pleasures ended in abuse auricular — The Bishop was so terribly particular. Though, on the whole, a wise and upright man, He sought to make of human pleasures clear- ances ; And form his priests on that much-lauded plan Which pays undue attention to appearances. He couldn't do good deeds without a psalm in 'em, Although, in truth, he bore away the palm in 'em. Enraged to find a deacon at a dance, Or catch a curate at some mild frivolity, He sought by open censure to enhance Their dread of joining harmless social jollity. Yet he enjoyed (a fact of notoriety) The ordinary pleasures of society. One evening, sitting at a pantomime, (Forbidden treat to those who stood in fear of him), Koaring at jokes sans metre, sense, or rhyme, He turned, and saw immediately in rear of him, His piece of mind upsetting, and annoying it, A curate, also heartily enjoying it. Again, 't was Christmas Eve, and to enhance His children's pleasure in their harmless rollick- ing, He, like a good old fellow, stood a dance ; I04 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. When something checked the current of his frolicking : That curate, with a maid he treated lover-ly, Stood up and figured with him in the " Coverley !" Once, yielding to an universal choice (The company's demand was an emphatic one, For the old Bishop had a glorious voice), In a quartet he joined — an operatic one, Harmless enough, though ne'er a word of grace in it; When, lo ! that curate came and took the bass in it ! One day, when passing through a quiet street. He stopped awhile and joined a Punch's gather- ing And chuckled more than solemn folk think meet To see that gentleman his Judy lathering ; And heard, as Punch was being treated penally, That phantom curate laughing all hysenally. Now at a picnic, 'mid fair golden curls. Bright eyes, straw hats, 6o^^mes that fit amazingly, A croq}iei-\), St< moon ts on ti)e sea. ^tlloin ! Ws\t toinli bloiDB lobjatOs Hje Uc, amaioto i 38ut tftougti 2 gigt) anlj sob anft rrg, Ko ILaljg 3ane for nu, a^tlloijj ! &^ gags, *"2r tone follg quiter tmilloQ} ! Jbr me to iueD a toigtt, amaioin! ■Bijoge lot 13 cast before the niagt ; ** 9nli poggiblp she 'g rtgijt, ^Ulobi ! His skipper (Captain Joyce) He gave him many a rating, And almost lost his voice From thus expostulating : 146 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. * Lay out, you lubber, do ! What 's come to that young man, Joe ? Belay ! — 'vast heaving ! you ! Do kindly stop that banjo ! "I wish, I do — oh, lor* ! — You 'd shipped aboard a trader : Are you a sailor, or A negro serenader ? " But still the stricken cad, Aloft or on his pillow, Howled forth in accents sad His aggravating " Willow ! " Stem love of duty had Been Joyce's chiefest beauty : Says he, "I love that lad, But duty, damme ! duty ! ** Twelve years' black-hole, I say, Where daylight never flashes ; And always twice a day Five hundred thousand lashes ! " But Joseph had a mate, A sailor stout and lusty, A man of low estate. But singularly trusty. JOE GOLIGHTLY. t47 Says slie, " Cheer hup, young Joe ! I '11 tell you what I 'm arter, To that Fust Lord I '11 go And ax him for his darter. " To that Fust Lord I '11 go And say you love her dearly.'* And Joe said (weeping low), " I wish you would, sincerely I '' That sailor to that Lord Went, soon as he had landed, And of his own accord An interview demanded. Says he, with seaman's roll, " My Captain (wot's a Tartar) Guv Joe twelve years' black-hole, For lovering your darter. " He loves Miss Lady Jane (I own she is his betters), But if you '11 jine them twain, They '11 free him from his fetters. " And if so be as how You 11 let her come aboard ship, 1 11 take her with me now." — ** Gtet out ! " remarked his Lordghip. 148 THE "BAB'^ BALLADS. That honest tar repaired To Joe, upon the billow, And told him how he 'd fared : Joe only whispered, " Willow .' " And for that dreadful crime (Young sailors, learn to shun it) He 's working out his time : In ten years he '11 ha-j«5 done it. TO THE TEERESTRIAL GhOBh By a Miserable Wretch. Roll on, thou ball, roll on ! Through pathless realms of Space Roll on ! What though I 'm in a sorry case ? What though I cannot meet my bills ? What though I suffer toothache's ills ? What though I swallow countless pills ? Never you mind ! Roll on ! Roll on, thou ball, roll on ! Through seas of inky air Roll on ! It 's true I Ve got no shirts to wear ; It 's true my butcher's bill is due ; It 's true my prospects all look blue — But don't let that unsettle you ! Never you mind ! Roll on ! \It rolls OTi, ff-> GENTLE ALICE BROWN. It was a robber's daughter, and her name was Alice Brown, Her father was the terror of a small Italian town ; Her mother was a foolish, weak, but amiable old thing ; But it isn't of her parents that I 'm going for to sing. GENTLE ALICE BROWN', 151 As Alice was a-sitting at her window-sill one day, A beautiful young gentleman he chanced to pass that way; She cast her eyes upon him, and he looked so good and true, That she thought, "I could be happy with a gentleman like you ! " And every morning passed her house that cream of gentlemen, She knew she might expect him at a quarter unto ten; A sorter in the Custom-house, it was his daily road (The Custom-house was fifteen minutes' walk from her abode). But Alice was a pious girl, who knew it wasn't wise To look at strange young sorters with expressive purple eyes ; So she sought the village priest to whom her family confessed. The priest by whom their little sins were care- fully assessed. " Oh, holy father," Alice said, " 't would grieve you, would it not. To discover that I was a most disreputable lot ? Of all unhappy sinners I 'm the most unhappy one ! " The padre said, " Whatever have you been and gone and done ? " "I have helped mamma to steal a little kiddy from its dad, I 've assisted dear papa in cutting up a little lad, I 've planned a little burglary and forged a little cheque. And slain a little baby for the coral on its neck ! ^ The worthy pastor heaved a sigh, and dropped a silent tear, And said, "You mu:stn't judge yourself too heavily, my dear : 152 THE ''BAB" BALLADS. It's wrong to murder babies, little corals for to fleece ; But sins like these one expiates at half-a-crown apiece. "Girls will be girls — you're very young, and flighty in your mind ; Old heads upon young shoulders we must not ex- pect to find : We mustn't be too hard upon these little girlish tricks. Let's see — five crimes at half-a-crown — exactly twelve-and-six." " Oh, father," little Alice cried, *' your kindness makes me weep. You do these little things for me so singularly cheap — Your thoughtful liberality I never can forget ; But, oh ! there is another crime I haven't men- tioned yet ! "A pleasant-looking gentleman, with pretty purple eyes, I 've noticed at my window, as 1 've sat a-catching flies; He passes by it every day as certain a? can be — 1 blush to say I We winked at him, and he has winked at ree ! " H^ GENTLE ALICE BROWN. 153 " For shame ! " said Father Paul, " my erring daughter ! On my word This is the most distressing news that I have ever heard. Wliy, naughty girl, your excellent papa has pledged your hand To a promising young robber, the lieutenant of his band ! " This dreadful piece of news will pain your worthy parents so ! They are the most remunerative customers I know; For many many years they've kept starvation from my doors : I never knew so criminal a family as yours ! " The common country folk in this insipid neigh- bourhood Have nothing to confess, they 're so ridiculously good; And if you marry any one respectable at all, Why, you '11 reform, and what will then become of Father Paul ? " The worthy priest, he up and drew his cowl upon his crown. And started off in haste to tell the news to Rob- ber Brown — To tell him how his daughter, who now was for marriage fit. Had winked upon a sorter, who reciprocated it. Good Robber Brown he muffled up his anger pretty well : He said, " I have a notion, and that notion I will I tell ; I will nab this gay young sorter, terrify him into fits, And get my gentle wife to chop him into little bits. " I 've studied human nature, and 1 know a thing or two ; Though a girl may fondly love a living gent, a» ^ many do,.' 154 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. A feeling of disgust upon her senses there will fall When she looks upon his body chopped particu- larly small." He traced that gallant sorter to a still suburban square ; He watched his opportunity, and seized him un- aware ; He took a life-preserver and he hit him on the head, And Mrs. Brown dissected him before she went to bed. And pretty little Alice grew more settled in her mind, She never more was guilty of a weakness of the kind. Until at length good Eobber Brown bestowed her pretty hand th€ On the promising young robber, the lieutenant of his band. MISTEE WILLIAM. Oh, listen to the tale of Mister William, if yon please. Whom naughty, naughty judges sent away beyond the seas. He forged a party's will, which caused anxiety and strife, Kesulting in his getting penal servitude for life. He was a kindly goodly man, and naturally prone, Instead of taking others' gold, to give away his own. But he had heard of Vice, and longed for only once to strike — To plan one little wickedness— to see what it waa like. He argued with himself, and said, "A spotless man am I ; I can't be more respectable, however hard I try ; For six and thirty years I 've always been as good as gold, And now for half an hour I '11 plan infamy untold ! " A baby who is wicked at the early age of one. And then reforms — and dies at thirty-six a spot- less son. Is never, never saddled with his babyhood's defect. But earns from worthy men consideration and respect. "So one who never revelled in discreditable tricKS Until he reached the comfortable age of thirty-six, May then for half an hour perpetrate a deed of shame. Without incurring permanent disgrace, or even blame. 156 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, " That babies don't commit such crimes as forgery is true, But little sins develop, if you leave 'em to accrue ; And he who shuns all vices as successive seasons roll, Should reap at length the benefit of so much self- control. " The common sin of babyhood — objecting to be drest — If you leave it to accumulate at compound interest, For anything you know, may represent, if you 're alive, A burglary or murder at the age of thirty-five. " Still, I wouldn't take advantage of this fact, but be content With some pardonable folly — it 's a mere experi- ment. The greater the temptation to go wrong, the less the sin ; So with something that's particularly tempting I'll begin. " I would not steal a penny, for my income 's very fair — I do not want a penny — I have pennies and to spare — And if I stole a penny from a money-bag or till, The sin would be enormous — the temptation being nil. " But if I broke asunder all such pettifogging bounds. And forged a party's Will for (say) Five Hundred Thousand Pounds, With such an irresistible temptation to a haul, Of course the sin must be infinitesimally smalL " There 's Wilson who is dying — he has wealth from Stock and rent — If I divert his riches from their natural descent, I 'm placed in a position to indulge each little whim." MISTER WILLIAM. 157 So he diverted them — and they, in turn, diverted him. Unfortunately, though, by some unpardonable flaw, Temptation isn't recognized by Britain's Common Law ; Men found him out by some peculiarity of touch, And William got a " lifer," which annoyed him very much. For, ah ! he never reconciled himself to life in gaol, He fretted and he pined, and grew dispirited and pale; He was numbered like a cabman, too, which told upon him so That his spirits, once so buoyant, grew uncomfort- ably low. And sympathetic gaolers would remark, "It's very true. He ain't been brought up common, like the likes of me and„you," So, they took him into hospital, and gave him mutton chops. And chocolate, and arrowroot, and buns, and malt and hops. iss THE ^BAB'^ BALLADS. Kind clergymen, besides, grew interested in hia fate, Affected by the details of his pitiable state. They waited on the Secretary, somewhere in "Whitehall, Who said he would receive them any day they liked to call. " Consider, sir, the hardship of this interesting case : A prison life brings with it something very like disgrace ; It 's telling on young William, who 's reduced to ■ skin and bone — Kemember he 's a gentleman, with money of his own. *' He had an ample income, and of course he stands in need Of sherry with his dinner, and his customary weed ; No delicacies now can pass his gentlemanly lips — He misses his sea-bathing and his continental trips. " He says the other prisoners are commonplace and rude ; He says he cannot relish uncongenial prison food. When quite a boy they taught him tc distinguish Good from Bad, And other educational advantages he 's had. MISTER WILLIAM, 159 " A burglar or garotter, or, indeed, a common ttief Is very glad to batten on potatoes and on beef. Or anything, in short, that prison kitchens can afford, — A cut above the diet in a common workhouse ward. " But beef and mutton-broth don't seem to suit our William's whim, A boon to other prisoners — a punishment to him. It never was intended that the discipline of gaol Should dash a convict's spirits, sir, or make him thin or pale." " Good Gracious Me !" that sympathetic Secretary cried, " Suppose in prison fetters Mister William should have died ! Dear me, of course ! Imprisonment for Life his sentence saith : I 'm very glad you mentioned it — it might have been for Death ! " Release him with a ticket — he '11 be better then, no doubt, And tell him I apologize." So Mister William 's out. I hope he will be careful in his manuscripts, I 'm sure, And not begin experimentalizing any more. BEN ALLAH ACHMET; Or, The Fatal Tum. I ONCE did know a Turkish man Whom 1 upon a two-pair-back met, His name it was Effendi Khan Backsheesh Pasha Ben Allah Achmet. :fi(Ur A Doctor Brown I also knew — I 've often eaten of his bounty ; The Turk and he they lived at Hooe j In Sussex, that delightful county ! I knew a nice young lady there, Her name was Isabella Sherson, And though she wore another's hair, She was an interesting person. The Turk adored the maid of Hooe (Although his harem would have shocked her) | But Brown adored that maiden too : He was a most seductive doctor. They 'd follow her where'er she 'd go- A course of action most improper ; She neither knew by sight, and so For neither of them cared a copper. BEN ALLAH A CHME T. i6x Brown did not know that Turkish male, He might have been his sainted mother : The people in this simple tale Are total strangers to each other. One day that Turk he sickened sore, Which threw him straight into a sharp pet ; He threw himself upon the floor And rolled about upon his — carpet. It made him moan — it made him groan. And almost wore him to a mummy : Why should I hesitate to own That pain was in his little tummy? At length a doctor came, and rung (As Allah Achmet had desired), Wlio felt his pulse, looked up his tongue, And hummeu and hawed, and then inquired : " Where is the pain that long has preyed Upon you in so sad a way, sir ? " The Turk he giggled, blushed, and said, " I don't exactly like to say, sir." " Come, nonsense ! " said good Doctor Brown. " So this is Turkish coyness, is it ? You must contrive to fight it down — Come, come, sir, please to be explicit." The Turk he shyly bit his thumb, And coyly blushed like one half-witted, '' The pain is in my little turn," He, whispering, at length admitted. " Then take you this, and take you that — Your blood flows sluggish in its channel — You must get rid of all this fat, And wear my medicated flannel. " You '11 send for me, when you 're in need— My name is Brown — your life I 've saved it." " My rival ! " shrieked the invalid, Ajid drew a mighty sword and waved it : l62 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, " This to thy weazand, Christian pest I " Aloud the Turk in frenzy yelled it, And drove right through the doctor's chest The sabre and the hand that held it. The blow was a decisive one, And Doctor Brown grew deadly pasty. " Now see the mischief that you 've done, — You Turks are so extremely hasty. " There are two Doctor Browns in Hooe — Ke 's short and stout — / 'm tall and wizen ; You 've been and run the wrong one through, That 's how the error has arisen." The accident was thus explained. Apologies were only heard now : " At my mistake I 'm really pained, I am, indeed, upon my word now. " With me, sir, you shall be interred, A mausoleum grand awaits me." — " Oh, pray don't say another word, I 'm sure that more than compensates me. " But p'r'aps, kind Turk, you 're full inside ?" " There 's room," said he, " for any number." And so they laid them down and died. In proud Stamboul they sleep their slumber. THE BUMBOAT WOMAN'S STOUT. I 'm old, my dears, and shrivelled with age, and work, and grief, My eyes are gone, and my teeth have been drawn by Time, the Thief ! For terrible sights I 've seen, and dangers great I 've run — I 'm nearly seventy now, and my work is almost done. Ah ! I 've been young in my time, and I've played the deuce with men ! I 'm speaking of ten years past — I was barely sixty then : My cheeks were mellow and soft, and my eyes were large and sweet. Poll Pineapple's eyes were the standing toast of the Royal Fleet. A bumboat woman was I, and I faithfully served the ships With apples and cakes, and fowls a.id beer, and halfpenny dips, And beef for the generous mess, where the ofl&cers dine at nights. And fine fresh peppermint drops for the rollicking midshipmites. i64 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. Of all the kind commanders who anchored in Portsmouth Bay, By far the sweetest of all was kind Lieutenant Belaye. Lieutenant Belaye commanded the gunboat, Hot Cross Bun, She was seven and thirty feet in length, and she carried a gun. With the laudable view of enhancing his country's naval pride, When people inquired her size, Lieutenant Belaye replied, *' Oh, my ship, my ship is the first of the Hundred and Seventy-ones ! " Which meant her tonnage, but people imagined it meant her guns. Whenever I went on board he would beckon me down below, "Come down. Little Buttercup, come" (for he loved to call me so). And he 'd tell of the fights at sea in which he 'd taken a part. THE BUM BO AT WOMAN'S STORY. 165 And so Lieutenant Belaye won poor Poll Pine- apple's heart ! Bat at length his orders came, and he said one day, said he, " I 'm ordered to sail with the Hot Cross Bun to the German Sea." And the Portsmouth maidens wept when they learnt the evil day, ' For every Portsmouth maid loved good Lieutenant Belaye. And I went to a back back street, with plenty of cheap cheap shops, And I bought an oilskin hat, and a second-hand suit of slops, And I went to Lieutenant Belaye (and he never suspected me !) And I entered myself as a chap as wanted to go to sea. We sailed that afternoon at the mystic hour of one, — Remarkably nice young men were the crew of the Hot Gross Bun. I 'm sorry to say that I 've heard that sailors sometimes swear, But I never yet heard a Bun say anything wrong, I declare. When Jack Tars meet, they meet with a " Mess- mate, ho ! What cheer ? " But here, on the Hot Gross Bun, it was " How do you do, my dear ? " When Jack Tars growl, I believe they growl with a big big D— , But the strongest oath of the Hot Gross Bun was a mild " Dear me ! " i66 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. Yet, though they were all well-bred, you could scarcely call them slick : Whenever a sea was on, they were all extremely sick ; And whenever the weather was calm, and the wind was light and fair, They spent more time than a sailor should on his back back hair. They certainly shivered and shook when ordered aloft to run, And they screamed when Lieutenant Belaye dis- charged his only gun. And as he was proud of his gun — such pride is hardly wrong — The Lieutenant was blazing away at intervals all day long. They all agreed very well, though at times you heard it said That Bill had a way of his own of making his lips look red — That Joe looked quite his age— or somebody might declare That Barnacle's long pig-tail was never his own own hair. THE BUM BO AT WOMAN'S STORY. 167 Belaye would admit that his men were of no great use to him, " But then," he would say, " there is little to do on a gumboat trim. I can hand, and reef, and steer, and fire my big gun too — And it 18 such a treat to sail with a gentle well- bred crew." I saw him every day ! How the happy moments sped ! Keef topsails ! Make all taut ! There 's dirty weather ahead ! (I do not mean that tempests threatened the Hot Gross Bun : In tliat case, I don't know whatever we should have done !) After a fortnight's cruise, we put into port one day, And off on leave for a week went kind Lieutenant Belaye, And after a long long week had passed (and it seemed like a life). Lieutenant Belaye returned to his ship with a fair young wife ! He up, and he says, says he, " O crew of the Hot Cross Bun, Here is the wife of my heart, for the Church has made us one ! " And as he uttered the word, the crew went out of their wits. And all fell down in so many separate fainting tits. And then their hair came down, or oflF, as the case might be. And lo ! the rest of the crew were simple girls, like me. Who all had fled from their homes in a sailor's blue array, To follow the shifting fate of kind Lieutenant Belaye. 1 63 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. ***** It 's strange to think that I should ever have loved young men, But I 'm speaking of ten years past — I was barely sixty then, And now my cheeks are furrowed with grief and age, I trow ! And poor Poll Pineapple's eyes have lost their lustre now ! THE TWO OGEES. Good children, list, if you 're inclined. And wicked children too — This pretty ballad is designed Especially for you. Two ogres dwelt in Wickham Wold, One grown up— one a lad : The younger was as good as gold, The elder one was bad. A wicked, disobedient son Was James Mc Alpine, and A contrast to the younger one, Good Applebody Bland. Mc Alpine— brutes like him are few — In greediness delights, A melancholy victim to Unchastened appetites. Good, well-bred children every day He ravenously ate, — All boys were fish who found thier way Into Mc Alpine's net : I70 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. Boys whose good breeding is innate, Whose sums are always right ; And boys who don't expostulate When sent to bed at night ; And kindly boys who never search The nests of birds of song ; And serious boys for whom, in church, No sermon is too long. Contrast with James's greedy haste And comprehensive hand, The nice discriminating taste Of Applebody Bland. Bland only eats bad boys, who swear — Who can behave, but dorUt — Disgraceful lads who say " don't care," And "shan't," and "can't," and "won't." Who wet their shoes and learn to box, And say what isn't true. Who bite their nails and jam their frocks, And make long noses too ; Who kick a nurse's aged shin, And sit in sulky mopes ; And boys who twirl poor kittens in Distracting zoetropes. THE TWO OGRES, 171 But James, before lie grew so big, Had often been to scbool, And though, of course, a reckless pig, He wasn't quite a fool. At logic few with him could vie ; To his peculiar sect He could propose a fallacy With singular effect. So, when his Mentors said, " You hound, Why eat good children — why ? " Upon his Mentors he would round With this absurd reply : " I have been taught to love the good— The pure — the unalloyed — And wicked boys, I 've understood, I always should avoid. " Why do I eat good children — why ? Because I love them so ! " (But this was empty sophistry, As your Papa can show.) Now, though the learning of his friends Was truly not immense, They had a way of fitting ends By rule of common sense. " Away, away ! " his Mentors cried, " Thou uncongenial pest ! A quirk 's a thing we can't abide, A quibble we detest ! " A fallacy in your reply Our intellect descries, Although we don't pretend to spy Exactly where it lies. " In misery, unworthy son. Must end a glutton's joys ; And learn how ogres punish one Who dares to eat good boys. " Secured by fetter, cramp, and chain. And gagged securely — so — 172 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, You shall be placed in Drury Lane, Where only good lads go. *' Surrounded there by virtuous boys, You '11 suffer torture wus Than that which constantly annoys Disgraceful Tantalus. (" If you would learn the woes that vex Poor Tantalus, down there, Pray borrow of Papa an ex- Purgated Lempriere.) " But as for Applebody Bland, Who only eats the bad, A fitting recompense we 've planned For that deserving lad. ** Where naughty boys in crowds are stowed He shall unquestioned rule, And have the run of Hackney Road Reformatory School." LITTLE OLIVEE. Earl Joyce lie was a kind old party Whom nothing ever could put out ; Though eighty-two, he still was hearty, Excepting as regarded gout. He had one unexampled daughter, The Lady Minnie-haha Joyce, Fair Minnie-haha, " Laughing Water," So called from her melodious voice. By Nature planned for lover-capture, Her beauty every heart assailed ; The good old nobleman with rapture Observed how widely she prevailed. Aloof from all the lordly flockings Of titled swells who worshipped her. There stood in pumps and cotton stockings, One humble lover — Oliver. He was no peer by Fortune petted. His name recalled no bygone age ; He was no lordling coronetted — Alas ! he was a simple page ! With vain appeals he never bored her, But stood in silent sorrow by — He knew how fondly he adored her. And knew, alas ! how hopelessly ! Well grounded by a village tutor In languages alive and past, He 'd say unto himself, " Knee -suitor, Oh, do not go beyond your last ! " 174 THE ''BAB" BALLADS, But though his name could boast no handle He could not every hope resign ; As moths will hover round a candle, So hovered he about her shrine. The brilliant candle dazed the moth well: One day she sang to her Papa The air that Marie sings with Both well In Neidermeyer's opera. (Therein a stable boy, it 's stated, Devoutly loved a noble dame, And that the dame reciprocated His rather injudicious flame.) ^ And then, before the piano closing (He listened coyly at the door) She sang a song of her composing — I give one verse from half a score : Ballad. Why^ pretty page, art ever sighing f Is sorroiv in thy heartlet lying ? Come, set a-ringing Thy laugh entrancing^ And ever singing And ever dancing. Ever singing, Tra ! la ! la ! Ever dancing, Tra I la ! la ! Ever singing, ever dancing. Ever singing, Tra ! la ! la t LITTLE OLIVER, 175 He skipped for joy like little muttons, He danced like Esmeralda's kid (She did not mean a boy in buttons, Although he fancied that she did). Poor lad ! convinced he thus would win her, He wore out many pairs of soles ; He danced when taking down the dinner — He danced when bringing up the coals. He danced and sang (however laden) With his incessant " Tra ! la ! la ! " Which much surprised the noble maiden, And puzzled even her Papa. He nourished now his flame and fanned it He even danced at work below. At length the servants wouldn't stand it, Ajid Bowles the butler told him so. 176 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, At length on impulse acting blindly, His love he laid completely bare ; The gentle Earl received him kindly, And told the lad to take a chair. *' Oh, sir," the suitor uttered sadly, *' Don't give your indignation vent ; I fear you think I 'm acting madly, Perhaps you think me insolent ? " The kindly Earl repelled the notion ; His noble bosom heaved a sigh, His fingers trembled with emotion, A tear stood in his mild blue eye. For, oh ! the scene recalled too plainly The half-forgotten time when he, A boy of nine, had worshipped vainly A governess of forty-three ! " My boy," he said, his hands still wringing, " Give up this idle fancy — do — The ballad that you heard her singing Did not, indeed, refer to you. " I feel for you, poor boy, acutely ; I would not wish to give you pain ; Your pangs I estimate minutely, — I, too, have loved, and loved in vain. ** But still your humble rank and station For Minnie surely are not meet." He said much more in conversation Which it were needless to repeat. LITTLE OLIVER. 177 Now I 'm prepared to bet a guinea, Were this a mere dramatic case, The page would have eloped with Minnie, But, no — he only left his place. The simple Truth is my detective, With me Sensation can't abide ; The Likely beats the mere Ejffective, And Nature is my only guide. i. PASHA BAILEY BEN. A PROUD Pasha was Bailey Ben, His wives were three, his tails were ten, His form was dignified, but stout, Men called him " Little Eoundabout." His Imp(ytiance. Pale Pilgrims came from o'er the sea To wait on Pasha Bailey B., All bearing presents in a crowd, For B. was poor as well as proud. His Presents. They brought him onions strung on ropes, And cold boiled beef, and telescopes. And balls of string, and shrimps, and guns, And chops, and tacks, and hats, and buns. More of them. They brought him white kid gloves, and pails, And candlesticks, and potted quails, And capstan-bars, and scales and weights. And ornaments for empty grates. PASHA BAILEY BEN. Wliy I mention these. My tale is not of these — oh, no ! I only mention them to show The divers gifts that divers men Brought o'er the sea to Bailey Ben. His Confidant. A confidant had Bailey B., A gay Mongolian dog was he ; I am not good at Turkish names, And so I call him Simple James. His Confidantes Countenance. A dreadful legend you might trace In Simple James's honest face* 179 i8o THE '' BAB'' BALLADS. For there you read, in Nature's printj "A Scoundrel of the Deepest Tint." Kis Character, A deed of blood, or fire, or flames, Was meat and drink to Simple James. To hide his guilt he did not plan, But owned himself a bad young man. The Author to his Reader. And why on earth good Bailey Ben (The wisest, noblest, best of men) Made Simple James his right-hand man Is quite beyond my mental span. The samCf continued. But there — enough of gruesome deeds ! My heart, in thinking of them, bleeds And so let Simple James take wing, — 'T is not of him I 'm going to sing. The Pashah Clerk. Good Pasha Bailey kept a clerk (For Bailey only made his mark), His name was Matthew Wycombe Coo, A man of nearly forty-two. His Accomplishments. No person that I ever knew Could " yodel " half as well as Coo ; And Highlanders exclaimed, "Ah, weel J* When Coo began to dance a reel. His Kindness to the Pasha^s Wives, He used to dance and sing and play In such an unaffected way. He cheered the unexciting lives Of Pasha Bailey's lovely wives. PASHA BAILEY BEN. i8i The Author io his Reader. But why should I encumber you With histories of Matthew Coo ? Let Matthew Coo at once take wing, — 'T is not of Coo 1 'm going to sing. The Authoi^s Muse. Let me recall my wandering Muse ; She shall be steady if I choose — She roves, instead of helping me To tell the deeds of Bailey B. One morning knocked, at half- past eight, A tall Red Indian at his gate. In Turkey, as you 're p'r'aps aware. Red Indians are extremely rare. Mocassins decked his graceful legs. His eyes were black, and round as eggs, And on his neck, instead of beads, Hung several Catawampous seeds. " Ho, ho ! " he said, " thou pale-faced one, Poor offspring of an Eastern sun. You 've never seen the Red Man skip Upon the banks of Mississip ! " l82 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. To say that Bailey oped his eyes "Would feebly paint his great surprise — To say it almost made him die Would be to paint it much too high. But why should I ransack my head To tell you all that Indian said ? We 11 let the Indian man take wing, — 'T is not of him 1 'm going to sing. Title Reader to the Author. Come, come, I say, that 's quite enough Of this absurd disjointed stuff ; Now let 's get on to that affair About Lieutenant-Colonel Flare. LIEUTENANT-COLONEL ELAEE. The earth has armies plenty, And semi- warlike bands, I dare say there are twenty In European lands ; But, oh ! in no direction You 'd find one to compare In brotherly affection With that of Colonel Flare. His soldiers might be rated As military Pearls : As unsophisticated As pretty little girls ! They never smoked or ratted, Or talk of Sues or Polls ; The Sergeant-Major tatted, The others nursed their dolls. i84 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. He spent the days in teaching These truly solemn facts : There 's little use in preaching, Or circulating tracts. (The vainest plan invented For laying other creeds, Unless it 's supplemented With charitable deeds.) He taught his soldiers kindly To give at Hunger's call : " Oh, better far give blindly Than never give at all. Though sympathy be kindled By Imposition's game, Oh, better far be swindled Than smother up its flame." His means were far from ample For pleasure or for dress. Yet note this bright example Of single-heartedness : Though ranking as a Colonel, His pay was but a groat, While their reward diurnal Was — each a five-pound note. Moreover, — this evinces His kindness, you '11 allow, — He fed them all like princes, And lived himself on cow. He set them all regaling On curious wines, and dear, While he would sit pale-ale-ing Or quaffing ginger-beer. Then at his instigation (A pretty fancy this) Their daily pay and ration They 'd always change for his ; They brought it to him weekly, And he without a groan Would take it from them meekly, And give them all his own ! LIEUTENANT-COLONEL FLARE. 1B5 Though not exactly knighted As knights, of course, should be, Yet no one so delighted In harmless chivalry. If peasant girl or ladye Beneath misfortunes sank, Whate'er distinctions made he, They were not those of rank. No maiden young and comely Who wanted good advice (However poor or homely) Need ask him for it twice. He 'd wipe away the blindness That comes of teary dew ; His sympathetic kindness No sort of limit knew. He always hated dealing With men who schemed or planned A person harsh — unfeeling — The Colonel could not stand. He hated cold, suspecting. Official men in blue, Who pass their lives detecting The crimes that others do. i86 J'HE ''BAB'' BALLADS. For men who 'd shoot a sparrow, Or immolate a worm Beneath a farmer's harrow, He could not find a term. Humanely, ay, and knightly He dealt with such an one ; He took and tied him tightly, And blew him from a gun. The earth has armies plenty, And semi-warlike bands, I 'm certain there are twenty In European lands ; But, oh ! in no direction You 'd find one to compare In brotherly affection With that of Colonel Flare. LOST ME. BLAKE. Mr. Blake was a regular out-and-out hardened sinner, Who was quite out of the pale of Christianity, so to speak. He was in the habit of smoking a long pipe and drinking a glass of grog on Sunday after dinner. And seldom thought of going to church more than twice or— if Good Friday or Christmas Day happened to come in it— three times a week. He was quite indifferent as to the special kinds of dresses That the clergyman wore at the church where he used to go to pray, And whatever he did in the way of relieving a chap's distresses, He always did in a sneaking, underhanded, hole-and-corner sort of way. I have known him indulge in profane, ungentle- manly emphatics. When the Protestant Church has been divided on the subject of the proper width of a chasuble's hem i ., i88 THE ''BAB" BALLADS. I liave even known Jiim to sneer at albs — and as for dalmatics, Words can't convey an idea of the contempt he expressed for theini. He didn't believe in persons who, not being well off themselves, are obliged to confine their charitable exertions to collecting money from wealthier people, And looked upon individuals of the former class as ecclesiastical hawks ; He used to say that he would no more think of interfering with his priest's robes than with his church or his steeple, And that he did not consider his soul imperilled because somebody over whom he had no influence whatever, chose to dress himself up like an exaggerated Guy Fawkes. This shocking old vagabond was so unutterably shameless That he actually went a-courting a very respec- table and piouK middle-aged sister, by the name of Biggs. She was a rather attractive widow, whose life as such had always been particularly blame- less ; Her first husband had left her a secure but moderate competence owing to some fortu- nate speculations in the matter of figs. She was an excellent person in every way — and won the respect even of Mrs. Grundy, She was a good housewife, too, and wouldn't have wasted a penny if she had owned the Koh-i-noor. She was just as strict as he was lax in her obser- vance of Sunday, And being a good economist, and charitable besides, she took all the bones and cold potatoes and broken pie-crusts and candle- ends (when she had quite done with them), and made them into an excellent soup for the deserving poor. LOST MR. BLAKE. 189 I am sorry to say that she rather took to Blake — that outcast of society, And when respectable brothers who were fond of her began to look dubious and to cough, She would say, " Oh, my friends, it 's because T hope to bring this poor benighted soul back to virtue and propriety," And, besides, the poor benighted soul, with all his faults, was uncommonly well off. And when Mr. Blake's dissipated friends called his attention to the frown or the pout of her, AVhenever he did anything which appeared to her to savour of an unmentionable place, He would say she would be a very decent old girl when all that nonsense was knocked out of her. And his method of knocking it out of he;' is one that covered him with disgrace. She was fond of going to church services four times every Sunday, and four or five times in the week, and never seemed to pall of them. So he hunted out all the churches within a con- venient distance that had services at diffe- rent hours, so to speak ; And when he had married her he positively in- sisted upon their going to all of them. .:«:^YKK\-n igo THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, So they contrived to do about twelve churches every Sunday, and, if they had luck, from twenty-two to twenty-three in the course of the week. She was fond of dropping his sovereigns osten- tatiously into the plate, and she liked to see them stand out rather conspicuously against the commonplace half-crowns and shillings. So he took her to all the charity sermons, and if by any extraordinary chance there wasn't a charity sermon anywhere, he would drop a couple of sovereigns (one for him and one for her) into the poor-box at the door ; And as he always deducted the sums thus given in charity from the housekeeping money, and the money he allowed her for her bon- nets and frillings. She soon begun to Unci that even charity, if you allow it to interfere with your personal luxuries, becomes an intolerable bore. On Sundays she was always melancholy and any- thing but good society. For that day in her household was a day of sighings and sobbings and wringing of hands and shaking of heads : She wouldn't hear of a button being sewn on a glove, because it was a work neither of necessity nor of piety, And strictly prohibited her servants from amus- ing themselves, or indeed doing anything at all except dusting the drawing-rooms, cleaning the boots and shoes, cooking the parlour dinner, waiting generally on the family, and making the beds. But Blake even went further than that, and said that people should do their own works of necessity, and not delegate them to persons in a menial situation. So he wouldn't allow his servants to do so much as even answer a bell. LOST MR. BLAKE. 191 Here he is making his wife carry up the water for her bath to the second floor, much against her inclination, — And why in the world the gentleman who illustrates these ballads has put him in a cocked hat is more than I can tell. After about three months of this sort of thing, taking the smooth with the rough, of it (Blacking her own boots and peeling her own potatoes was not her notion of connubial bliss), Mrs. Blake began to find that she had pretty nearly had enough of it, And came, in course of time, to think that Blake's own original line of conduct wasn't so much amiss. And now that wicked person — that detestable sinner ("Belial Blake" his friends and well-wishers call him for his atrocities). And his poor deluded victim whom all her Christian brothers dislike and pity so, Go to the parish church only on Sunday morning and afternoon and occasionally on a week- day, and spend their evenings in connubial fondlings and affectionate reciprocities, And I should like to know where in the world (or rather, out of it) they expect to go ! THE BABY'S VENGEANCE. Weary at heart and extremely ill Was Paley VoUaire of Bromptonville. In a dirty lodging, with fever down, Close to the Polygon, Somers Town. Paley VoUaire was an only son (For why ? His mother had had but one), And Paley herited gold and grounds Worth several hundred thousand pounds. But he, like many a rich young man, Through this magnificent fortune ran, And nothing was left for his daily needs But duplicate copies of mortgage-deeds. Shabby and sorry and sorely sick. He slept, and dreamt that the clock's " tick, tick," Was one of the Fates, with a long sharp knife, Snicking off bits of his shortened life. He woke and counted the pips on the walls, The outdoor passengers' loud footfalls. And reckoned all over, and reckoned again. The little white tufts on his counterpane. A medical man to his bed-side came (I can't remember that doctor's name), And said, " You '11 die in a very short while If you don't set sail for Madeira's isle." THE BABY'S VENGEANCE. 193 " Go to Madeira % goodness me ! I haven't the money to pay your fee ! " " Then, Paley Vollaire," said the leech, "good bye; 1 11 come no more, for you 're sure to die."' He sighed and he groaned and smote his breast ; " Oh, send," said he, " for Frederick West, Ere senses fade or my eyes grow dim : I 've a terrible tale to whisper him." Poor was Frederick's lot in life, — A dustman he wdth a fair young wife, A worthy man with a hard-earned store, A hundred and seventy pounds — or more. Frederick came, and he said, " Maybe You '11 say what you happen to want with me ?" " Wronged boy," said Paley Vollaire. " I will, But don't you fidget yourself— sit still. " T is now some thirty-seven years ago Since first began the plot that I 'm revealing, A fine young woman, whom you ought to know, Lived with her husband down in Drum Lane, Ealing. Herself by means of mangling reimbursing, And now and then (at intervals) wet-nursing. 194 THE '^BAB'' BALLADS. " Two little babes dwelt in her humble cot ; One was her own — the other only lent to her : Her own she slighted. Tempted by a lot Of gold and silver regularly sent to her, She ministered unto the little other In the capacity of foster-mother. " I was her own. Oh ! how 1 lay and sobbed In my poor cradle — deeply, deeply cursing The ricli man's pampered bantling, who had robbed My only birthright— an attentive nursing ! Sometimes, in hatred of my foster-brother, I gnashed my gums — which terrified my mother. " One day — it was quite early in the week — I in MY cradle having placed the bantling — Crept into his ! He had not learnt to speak. But I could see his face with anger mantliig. It was imprudent — well, disgraceful maybe, For, oh ! I was a bad, black-hearted baby. THE BABY'S VENGEANCE. 195 " So great a luxury was food, I think No wickedness but I was game to try for it. N(m if I wanted anything to drink At any time, I only had to cry for it ! Once^ if I dared to weep, the bottle lacking, My blubbering involved a serious smacking ! " We grew up in the usual way — my friend, My foster-brother, daily growing thinner, While gradually I began to mend, And thrived amazingly on double dinner. And every one, besides my foster-mother, Believed that either of us was the other. " I came into his wealth — I bore his name, I bear it still — his property I squandered — I mortgaged everything — and now (oh, shame !) IntoaSomers Town shake-down I Ve wandered. I am no Paley — no Vollaire — it 's true, my boy ! The only rightful Paley V. is i/ow, my boy ! "And all I have is yours — and yours is mine. I still may place you in your true position : (jrive me the pounds you 've saved, and I '11 resign My noble name, my rank, and my condition. So far my wickedness in falsely owning Your vasty wealth, I am at last atoning 1 " Frederick he was a simple soul. He pulled from his pocket a bulky roll, And gave to Paley his hard-earned store, A hundred and seventy pounds or more. Paley Vollaire, with many a groan, Gave Frederick all that he 'd called his own — Two shirts and a sock, and a vest of jean, A Wellington boot and a bamboo cane. And Fred (entitled to ajl things there) He took the fever from Mr. Vollaire, Which killed poor Frederick West, Meanwhile A^ollaire sailed off to Madeira's isle. THE CAPTAIN AND THE MERMAIDS. I SING a legend of the sea, So hard-a-port upon your lee ! A ship on starboard tack ! She 's bound upon a private cruise — (This is the kind of spice I use To give a salt-sea smack). Behold, on every afternoon (Save in a gale or strong Monsoon) Great Captain Capel Cleggs (Great morally, though rather short) Sat at an open weather-port And aired his shapely legs. And Mermaids hung around in flocks, On cable chains and distant rocks, To gaze upon those limbs ; For legs like those, of flesh and bone, Are things " not generally known "' To any Merman Timbs. But Mermen didn't seem to care Much time (as far as 1 'm aware) With Cleggs's legs to spend ; Though Mermaids swam around all day And gazed, exclaiming, "That 's the way A gentleman should end ! " A pair of legs with well-cut knees, And calves and ankles such as these. Which we in rapture hail, Are far more eloquent, it 's clear, When clothed in silk and kerseymere, Than any nasty tail." THE CAPTAIN AND MERMAIDS. 197 And Cleggs — a worthy kind old boy — • Rejoiced to add to others' joy And (though he scarce knew why) Because it pleased the lookers-on, He sat there every day — though con- stitutionally shy. At first the Mermen laughed a few, But finally they jealous grew, And sounded loud recalls ; But vainly. So these fishy males Declared they too would clothe their tails In silken hose and smalls. They set to work, these water-men. And made their nether robes ; but when They drew with dainty touch The kerseymere upon their tails, They found it scraped against their scales, And hurt them very much. The silk, besides, with which they chose To deck their tails, by way of hose (They never thought of shoon), 198 THE '* BAB'' BALLADS. For such a use was mucli too thin, — It tore against the caudal fin And " went in ladders " soon. So they designed another plan : They sent their most seductive man This note to him to show — " Our Monarch sends to Captain Cleggs His humble compliments, and begs He '11 join him down below ; " We 've pleasant homes below the sea — Besides, if Captain Cleggs should be (As our advices say) A judge of Mermaids, he will find Our lady-fish of every kind Inspection will repay." Good Capel sent a kind reply, For Capel thought he could descry An admirable plan To study all their ways and laws — (But not their lady-fish, because He was a married man)! The Merman sank — the Captain too Jumped overboard, and dropped from view^ Like stone from catapult ; And when he reached the Mermen's lair He certainly was welcomed there, But, ah ! with what result ? They didn't let him learn their law, Or make a note of what he saw, Or interesting mem. : The lady-fish he couldn't find, But that, of course, he didn't mind — He didn't come for them. For though, when Captain Capel sank, The Mermen drawn in double rank Gave him a hearty hail ; Yet when secure of Captain Cleggs, They cut off both his lovely legs, And gave him swc/i a tail ! THE CAPTAIN AND MERMAIDS. 199 When Captain Cleggs returned aboard, His blithesome crew convulsive roar'd To see him altered so The Admiralty did insist That he upon the Half-pay List Immediately should go. In vain declared the poor old salt, " It 's my misfortune — not my fault," With tear and trembling lip — In vain poor Capel begged and begged. " A man must be completely legged Who rules a British ship." So spake the stern First Lord aloud — He was a wag, though very proud, And much rejoiced to say, " You 're only half a captain now — . And so, my worthy friend, I vow You '11 only get half -pay !" ANNIE PEOTHEEOE. A Legend of Stratford-le-Bow. Oh ! listen to the tale of little Annie Protheroe. She kept a small post-office in the neighbourhood of Bow; She loved a skilled mechanic, who was famous in his day — A gentle executioner whose name was Gilbert Clay. I think I hear you say, " A dreadful subject for for your rhymes ! " reader, do not shrink — he didn't live in modern times ! He lived so long ago (the sketch will show it at a glance) That all his actions glitter with the lime-light of Romance. ANNIE PROTHEROE. 201 In busy times he laboured at his gentle craft all day — "No doubt you mean his Cal-craft" you amua- mgly will say- But, no— he didn't operate with common bits of string, He was a Public Headsman, which is quite another thing. And when his work was over, they would ramble o'er the lea, And sit beneath the frondage of an elderberry tree. "^ And Annie's simple prattle entertained him on his walk, For public executions formed the subject of her talk. And sometimes he'd explain to her, which charmed her very much, How famous operators vary very much in touch, And then, perhaps, he 'd show how he himself performed the trick, And illustrate his meaning with a poppy and a stick. Or, if it rained, the little maid would stop at home and look ' At his favourable notices, all pasted in a book And then her cheek would flush- her swimminf^ eyes would dance with joy ^ In a glow of admiration at the prowess of her boy. One summer eve, at supper-time, the gentle Gil- bert said (As he helped his pretty Annie to a slice of collared head), " This reminds me I must settle on the next en- suing day The hash of that unmitigated villain Peter Gray." He saw his Annie tremble and he saw his Annie start. Her changing colour trumpeted the flutter at her heart; 202 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. Young Gilbert's manly bosom rose and sank with jealous fear, And he said, " O gentle Annie, what 's the mean- ing of this here ? " And Annie answered, blushing in an interesting way, "You think, no doubt, I'm sighing for that felon Peter Gray : That 1 was his young woman is unquestionably true, But not since I began a-keeping company with you." Then Gilbert, who was irritable, rose and loudly swore He'd know the reason why if she refused to tell him more ; And she answered (all the woman in her flashing from her eyes), " You mustn't ask no questions, and you won't be told no lies. " Few lovers have the privilege enjoyed, my dear, by you, Of chopping off a rival's head and quartering him too ! Of vengeance, dear, to-morrow you will surely take your fill." And Gilbert ground his molars as he answered her, " I will ! " ANNIE PROTHEROE. 203 Young Gilbert rose from table with a stern determined look, And, frowning, took an inexpensive hatchet from its hook ; And Annie watched his movements with an interested air — For the morrow — for the morrow he was going to prepare ! He chipped it with a hammer and he chopped it with a bill, He poured sulphuric acid on the edge of it, until This terrible Avenger of the Majesty of Law Was far less like a hatchet than a dissipated saw. *-^U.-^ And Annie said, " Gilbert, dear, I do not under- stand Why ever you are injuring that hatchet in your hand?" He said, " It is intended for to lacerate and flay The neck of that unmitigated villain Peter Gray ! " "Now Gilbert," Annie answered, "wicked heads- man, just beware — I won't have Peter tortured with that horrible affair ; If you appear with that, you may depend you '11 rue the day." But Gilbert said, " Oh, shall I ?" which was just his nasty way. He saw a look of anger from her eyes distinctly dart, For Annie was a woman, and had pity in her heart. She wished him a good evening — he answered with a, glare ; 504 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. She only said, " Kemember, for your Annie will be there ! " The morrow Gilbert boldly on the scaffold took his stand, With a vizor on his face and with a hatchet in his hand, And all the people noticed that the Engine of the Law Was far less like a hatchet than a dissipated saw. The felon very coolly loosed his collar and his stock, And placed his wicked head upon the handy little block. The hatchet was uplifted for to settle Peter Gray, When Gilbert plainly heard a woman's voice exclaiming, " Stay ! " 'T was Annie, gentle Annie, as you'll easily believe. " O Gilbert, you must spare him, for I bring you a reprieve, It came from our Home Secretary many weeks ago. And passed through that post-office which I used to keep at Bow. \iiiy ANNIE PROTHEROE. 205 " I loved you, loved you madly, and you know it, Gilbert Clay, And as I 'd quite surrendered all idea of Peter Gray, I quietly suppressed it, as you '11 clearly under- stand, For I thought it might be awkward if he came and claimed my hand. " In anger at my secret (which I could not tell before) To lacerate poor Peter Gray vindictively you swore ; 1 told you if you used that blunted axe you 'd rue the day, And so you will, old fellow, for I '11 marrv Peter Gray!" \A.nd so she did. GREGORY PARABLE, LL.D. A LEAFY cot, where no dry rot Had ever been by tenant seen, Where ivy clung and wopses stung, Where beeses hummed and drummed and strummed, Where treeses grew and breezes blew — A thatchy roof, quite waterproof, Where countless herds of dickybirds Built twiggy beds to lay their heads (My mother begs I '11 make it " eggs," But though it 's true that dickies do Construct a nest with chirpy noise, With view to rest their eggy joys, 'Neath eavy sheds, yet eggs and beds, As I explain to her in vain Five hundred times, are faulty rhymes). 'Neath such a cot, built on a plot Of freehold land, dwelt Mary and Her worthy father, named by me Gregory Parable, LL.D. He knew no guile, this simple man, No worldly wile, or plot, or plan, Except that plot of freehold land That held the cot, and Mary, and Her worthy father, named by me Gregory Parable, LL.D. A grave and learned scholar he. Yet simple as a child could be. He 'd shirk his meal to sit and cram A goodish deal of Eton Gram, No man alive could him nonplus With vocative oijilius. GREGORY PARABLE LL.D. 207 No man alive more fully knew The passive of a verb or two. None better knew the worth than he Of words that end in 6, dy t Upon his green in early spring He might be seen endeavouring To understand the hooks and crooks Of Henry and his Latin books, Or calling for his " Caesar on The Gallic War," Uke any don; Or, p'r'aps expounding unto all How mythic Balbus built a walL So lived the sage who 's named by me Gregory Parable, LL.D, To him one autumn day there came A lovely youth of mystic name ; He took a lodging in the house And fell a-dodgivng snipe and grouse, For, oh ! that mild scholastic one Let shooting for a single gun. By three or four, when sport was o'er, The Mystic One laid by his gun, And made sheep's eyes of giant size, Till after tea, at Mary P. ; And Mary P. (so kind was she), She, too, made eyes of giant size. Whose every dart right through the heart Appeared to run that Mystic One. The Doctor's whim engrossing him. He did not know they flirted so. For, save at tea, " miisa mtiscB" As I 'm advised, monopolized And rendered blind his giant mind. But looking up above his cup One afternoon, he saw them spoon. " Aha ! " quoth he, " you naughtv lass ! As quaint old Ovid says, ' Amas ! ' " The Mystic Youth avowed the truth, And, claiming ruth, he said, " In sooth I love your daughter, aged man ; Eefuse to join us if you can. Treat not my offer, sir, with scorn. 2o8 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. I 'm wealthy tliougli I 'm lowly bom " " Young sir," the aged scholar said, " I never thought you meant to wed. Engrossed completely with my books, I little noticed lovers' looks. I 've lived so long away from man, I do not know of any plan By which to test a lover's worth, Except, perhaps, the test of birth. I 've half forgotten in this wild A father's duty to his child. It is his place, I think it 's said. To see his daughters richly wed To dignataries of the earth, If possible, of noble birth. If noble birth is not at hand, A father may, I understand (And this affords a chance for you). Be satisfied to wed her to A Boucicault or Baring — which Means any one who 's jolly rich. Now, there 's an Earl who lives hard by, Come, Mary, we will go and try If he would like to marry thee. If not, thy bride the maid shall be." They sought the Earl that very day ; The Sage began to say his say. GREGOR y PARABLE, LL.D. 209 The Earl (a very wicked man, Whose face bore Vice's blackest ban) Cut short the scholar's simple tale, And said in voice to make them quail, " Pooh ! go along ! you 're drunk, no doubt- Here, Peters, turn these people out ! " The Sage, rebuffed in mode uncouth, Returning, met the Mystic Youth. " My darling boy," the Scholar said, " Take Mary — blessings on your head ! " The Mystic Boy undid his vest, And took a parchment from his breast, And said, " Now, by that noble brow, I ne'er knew father such as thou ! " The sterling rule of common sense Now reaps its proper recompense. Rejoice, my soul's unequalled Queen, For I am Duke of Gretna Green ! " AN UlS^FOKTUNATE LIKENESS. I 'VE painted Shakespeare all my life — " An infant " (even then at play !) "A boy," with stage-ambition rife, Then " Married to Ann Hathaway." " The bard's first ticket night " (or " ben."), His " First appearance on the stage," His " Call before the curtain " — then " Rejoicings when he came of age." The bard play- writing in his room, The bard a humble lawyer's clerk, The bard a lawyer^ — parson^ — groom^ — The bard deer-stealing, after dark. The bard a tradesman^ — and a Jew^ — The bard a botanist^ — a beak? — The bard a skilled musicians too — A sheritf* and a surgeon eke ! 1 "Go with me to a Notary — seal me there Your single bond. " — Merchant of Venice, Act I. , sc. 3. 2 " And there shall she, at Friar Lawrence' cell, Be shrived and married." — Romeo and Juliet, Act II. , sc. 4. 3 ''And give their fasting horses provender." — Heyiry tJie Fifth, Act IV., sc. 2. * " Let us, like merchants, show our foulest wares." — Troilus and Oressida, Act I., sc. 3. ^ " Then must the Jew be merciful." — Mercliant of Venice, Act IV. , sc. 1. « "The spring, the summer, The childing autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries." — Midsummer Night's Dream, Act IV., sc. 1. 7 " In the county of Glo'ster, iustice of the peace and coram."— Merry Wives of Windsor, Act I., sc. 1. 8 "What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us?" — King John, Act V. , sc. 2. 9 "And I'll provide his executioner. " — Henry the Sixth (Second Part), Act III., sc. 1. AN UNFORTUN-ATE LIKENESS. 211 Yet critics say (a friendly stock) That, though it 's evident I try, Yet even I can barely mock The glimmer of his wondrous eye ! One morning as a work I framed, There passed a person, walking hard : " My gracious goodness," I exclaimed, " How very like my dear old bard ! " Oh, what a model he would make ! " I rushed outside — impulsive me ! — " Forgive the liberty I take. But you're so very" — "Stop!" said he. " You needn't waste your breath or time, — I know what you are going to say, — That you 're an artist, and that I 'm Remarkably like Shakespeare. Eh % " You wish that I would sit to you ? " 1 clasped him madly round the waist, And breathlessly replied, " I do ! " " All right," said he, " but please make haste." 212 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, I led him by his hallowed sleeve, And worked away at him apace, I painted him till dewy eve, — There never was a nobler face ! " Oh, sir," I said, " a fortune grand Is yours, by dint of merest chance, — To sport liis brow at second-hand. To wear his cast-off countenance ! " To rub his eyes whene'er they ache — To wear Ms baldness ere you 're old — To clean liu teeth when you awake — To blow his nose when you 've a cold ! " His eyeballs glistened in his eyes — I sat and watched and smoked my pipe ; "Bravo!" I said, "I recognize The phrensy of your prototype ! " His scanty hair he wildly tore : " That 's right," said I, " it shows your breed." He danced — he stamped — he wildly swore — " Bless me, that 's very fine indeed ! " " Sir," said the grand Shakesperian boy (Continuing to blaze away), "You think my face a source of joy; That shows you know not what you say. " Forgive these yells and cellar-flaps : I 'm always thrown in some such state When on his face well-meaning chaps This wretched man congratulate. " For, oh ! this face — this pointed chin — This nose — this brow — these eyeballs too, Have always been the origin Of all the woes I ever knew ! " If to the play my way I find, To see a grand Shakesperian piece, I have no rest, no ease of mind Until the author'" Duppets cease. AN UNFORTUNATE LIKENESS. 213 " Men nudge each other— thus— and say, ' This certainly is Shakespeare's son,' And merry wags (of course in play) Cry ' Author ! ' when the piece is done. " In church the people stare at me. Their soul the sermon never binds ; I catch them looking round to see, And thoughts of Shakespeare fill their minds. " And sculptors, fraught with cunning wile, Who find it difficult to crown A bust with Brown's insipid smile, Or Tomkins's unmannered frown, " Yet boldly make my face their own. When (oh, presumption !) they require To animate a paving-stone With Shakespeare's intellectual fire. " At parties where young ladies gaze, And I attempt to speak my joy, ' Hush, pray,' some lovely creature says, ' The fond illusion don't destroy ! ' " Whene'er I speak my soul is wrung With these or some such whisperings : ' 'T is pity that a Shakespeare's tongue Should say such un-Shakesperian things ! ' " I should not thus be criticised Had I a face of common wont : Don't envy me— now, be advised ! " And, now I think of it, I don't ! THE KING OF CANOODLE-DUM. The story of Frederick Gowler, A mariner of the sea, Who quitted his ship, the Howler, A-sailing in Caribbee. For many a day he wandered, Till he met in a state of rum Calamity Pop Von Peppermint Drop, The King of Canoodle-Dum. That monarch addressed him gaily, " Hum ! Golly de do to-day ? Hum ! Lily-white Buckra Sailee "— (You notice his playful way ?)— " What dickens you doin' here, sar ? Why debbil you want to come ? Hum ! Picaninnee, dere isn't no sea In city Canoodle-Dum ! " And Gowler he answered sadly, " Oh, mine is a doleful tale ! They Ve treated me wery badly In Lunnon, from where I hail. I 'm one of the Family Royd No common Jack Tar you see ; I 'm William the Fourth, far up in the North, A King in my own countree ! " THE KING OF CAN002>LE-DUM. 215 Bang-bang ! How the tom-toms thundered ! Bang-bang ! How they thumped the gongs ! Bang-bang : How the people wondered ! Bang-bang ! At it, hammer and tongs ! Alliance with Kings of Europe Is an honour Canoodlers seek, Her monarchs don't stop with Peppermint Drop Every day in the week ! Fred told them that he was undone, For his people all went insane, And fired the Tower of London, And Grinnidge's Naval Fane. And some of them racked St. James's, And vented their rage upon The Church of St. Paul, the Fishmongers' Hall, And the Angel at Islington. Calamity Pop implored him To stop with him — yes, remain Till those people of his restored him To power and rank again. Calamity Pop he made him A Prince of Canoodle-Dum, With a couple of caves, some beautiful slaves, And the run of the royal rum. 2i6 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. Pop gave him his only daughter, Hum Pickety Wimple Tip : Fred vowed that if over the water He went, in an English ship, He 'd make her his Queen, — though truly It is an unusual thing For a Caribbee brat who 's as black as your hat To be wife of an English King. And all the Canoodle-Dummers They copied his rolling walk, His method of draining rummers, His emblematical talk. For his dress and his graceful breeding. His delicate taste in rum. And his nautical way, were the talk of the day In the Court of Canoodle-Dum. Calamity Pop most wisely Determined in everything To model his Court precisely On that of the English King ; And ordered that every lady And every lady's lord Should masticate jacky (a kind of tobaccy) And scatter its juice abroad. They signified wonder roundly At any astounding yarn. By darning their dear eyes roundly ('T was all that they had to darn). They "hoisted their slacks," adjusting Garments of plantain-leaves With nautical twitches (as if they wore — stitchas. Instead of a dress like Eve's !) They shivered their timbers proudly. At a phantom fore-lock dragged. And called for a hornpipe loudly Whenever amusement flagged. " Hum ! Golly ! him Pop resemble Him Britisher sov'reign, hum ! Calamity Pop Von Peppermint Drop, De King of Canoodle-Dum ! " THE KING OF CANOODLE-DUM, 217 The mariner's lively " Hollo ! " Enlivened Canoodle's plain (For blessings unnumbered follow in Civilization's train). But Fortune (a walking bathos) A terrible ending planned, For Admiral D. Chickabiddy, C.B., Placed foot on Canoodle land ! That rebel, he seized King Gowler, He threatened his royal brains, And put him aboard the Howler^ And fastened him down with chains. The Howler she weighed her an- chor, With Frederick nicely nailed, And off to the north with Wil- liam the Fourth These horrible pirates sailed. Calamity said (with folly) " Hum ! nebber want him again — Him civilize all of us, golly ! Calamity suck his brain ! " The people, however, were pained when 2l8 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. They saw him aboard his ship, But none of them wept for their Freddy, except Hum Pickety Wimple Tip. FIRST LOVE. A CLERGYMAN in Berkshire dwelt, The Reverend Bernard Powles, And in his church there weekly knelt At least a thousand souls. There little Ellen you might see, The modest rustic belle ; In maidenly simplicity, She loved her Bernard well. Though Ellen wore a plain silk gown Untrimmed with lace or fur, Yet not a husband in the town But wished his wife like her. Though sterner memories might fade, You never could forget The child-form of that baby-maid, The ViUage Violet ! A simple frightened loveliness, Whose sacred spirit-part Shrank timidly from worldly stress, And nestled in your heart. 220 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. Powles woo'd with every well-worn, plan And all the usual wiles With which a well-schooled gentleman A simple heart beguiles. The hackneyed compliments that bore World-folks like you and me, Appeared to her as if they wore The crown of Poesy. His winking eyelid sang a song Her heart could understand, Eternity seemed scarce too long When Bernard squeezed her hand. He ordered down the martial crew Of Godfrey's Grenadiers, And Coote conspired with Tinney to Ecstaticize her ears. Beneath her window, veiled from eye, They nightly took their stand, On birthdays supplemented by The Covent Garden band. FIRST LOVE. 221 And little Ellen, all alone, Enraptured sat above, And thought how blest she was to own The wealth of Powles's love. I often, often wonder what Poor Ellen saw in him ; For calculated he was not To please a woman's whim. He wasn't good, despite the air An M.B. waistcoat gives ; Indeed, his dearest friends declare No greater humbug lives. No kind of virtue decked this priest, He 'd nothing to allure ; He wasn't handsome in the least, — • He wasn't even poor. No — he was cursed with acres fat (A Christian's direst ban). And gold— yet, notwithstanding tbat, Poor Ellen loved the man. As unlike Bernard as could be Was poor old Aaron Wood (Disgraceful Bernard's curate he) ; He was extremely good. A Bayard in his moral pluck, Without reproach or fear, A quiet venerable duck With fifty pounds a year. No fault had he— no fad, except A tendency to strimi, In mode at which you would have wept, A dull harmonium. He had no gold Math which to hire The minstrels who could best Convey a notion of the fire That raged within his breast. 222 THE " BAB " BALLADS, And so, wlien Coote and Tinney's Own Had tootled all they knew, And when the Guards, completely blown, Exhaustedly withdrew, And Nell began to sleepy feel, Poor Aaron then would come, And underneath her window wheel His plain harmonium. He woke her every morn at two, And having gained her ear, In vivid colours Aaron drew The sluggard's grim career. He warbled Apiarian praise, And taught her in his chant To shun the dog's disgraceful ways. And imitate the ant. Still Nell seemed not, how much he played, To love him out and out, Although the admirable maid Respected him no doubt. FIRST LOVE. 223 She told him of her earlv vow, And said as Bernard's wife It might be hers to show him how To rectify his life. • You are so pure, so kind, so true, Your goodness shines so bright, What use would Ellen be to you ? Believe me, you 're all right." She wished him happiness and healths And flew on lightning wings To Bernard with his dangerous wealth And all the woes it brings. BEAYE ALUM BEY. Oh, big was the bosom of brave Alum Bey, And also the region that under it lay, In safety and peril remarkably cool. And he dwelt on the banks of the Kiver StambouL Each morning he went to his garden, to cull A bunch of zenana or sprig of bul-bul, And offered the bouquet, in exquisite bloom. To Backsheesh, the daughter of Eahat Lakoum. No maiden like Backsheesh could tastily cook A kettle of kismet or joint of tchibouk, As Alum, brave fellow !• sat pensively by, With a bright sympathetic ka-bob in his eye. Stern duty compelled him to leave her one day— (A ship's supercargo was brave Alum Bey) — To pretty young Backsheesh he made a salaam. And sailed to the isle of Seringapatam. " O Alum," said she, " think again, ere you go — Hareems may arise and Moguls they may blow ; You may strike on a fez, or be drowned, which is wuss ! " But Alum embraced her and spoke to her thus : " Cease weeping, fair Backsheesh ! I willingly swear Cork jackets and trousers I always will Avear, And I also throw in a large number of oaths That I never — no,never — will take off my clothes!" * it * * * BRA VE AL UM BE V. 225 They left Madagascar away on their right, And made Clapham Common the following ni»ht, Then lay on their oars for a fortnight or two,*' Becalmed in the ocean of Honololu. One day Alum saw^, with alarm in his breast, A cloud on the nor-sow-sow-nor-sow-nor-west • The wind it arose, and the crew gave a scream, For they knew it— they knew it !~the dreaded Hareem ! ! The mast it went over, and so did the sails. Brave Alum threw over his casks and his bales ; The billows arose as the weather grew thick. And all except Alum ^^rew terribly sick. The crew were but three, but they hoUoa'd for nine. They howled and they blubbered with wail and with whine : The skipper he fainted away in the fore, For he hadn't the heart for to skip any more. 226 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. "Ho, coward ! said Alum, "with heart of a child I Thou son of a party whose grave is defiled ! Is Alum in terror ? is Alum afeared ? Ho ! ho ! If you had one I 'd laugh at your beard." His eyeball it gleamed like a furnace of coke ; He boldly inflated his clothes as he spoke ; He daringly felt for the corks on his chest, And he recklessly tightened the belt at his breast. For he knew, the brave Alum, that, happen what might. With belts and cork-jacketing, Ae was all right ; Though others might sink, he was certain to swim, — No Hareem whatever had terrors for him ! They begged him to spare from his personal store A single cork garment, — they asked for no more ; But he couldn't, because of the number of oaths That he never — no, never ! — would take off his clothes. The billows dash o'er them and topple around, They see they are pretty near sure to be drowned. A terrible wave o'er the quarter-deck breaks, And the vessel it .sinks in a couple of shakes ! The dreadful Hareem, though a beggar to blow, Expends all its strength in a minute or so ; When the vessel had foundered, as I have detailed, The tempest subsided, and quiet prevailed. One collared a cork with a yelling "Ha ! ha !" (Its bottle had prisoned a pint of Pacha) — Another a toothpick — another a tray — "Alas! it is useless!" said brave Alum Bey. " To holloa and kick is a very bad plan : You 'd best get it over as soon as you can ; You 'd better get hold of a good lump of lead. And collar it tightly until you are dead. '^ Jiist raise your hands over your pretty heads-— so — Right down to the bottom you 're certain to go. Ta ! ta ! I'm afraid we shall not meet again " — For the truly courageous are truly humane. BRAVE ALUM BEY, 227 Brave Alum was picked up tlie very next day— A man-o'-war sighted him smoking away ; With hunger and cold he was ready to drop, So they sent him below and they gave him a chop, O reader, or readress, whichever you be, You weep for the crew who have sunk in the seal O reader, or readress, read further, and dry Ihe bright svmpathetic ka-bob in your eye. That ship had a grapple with three iron spikes,— It 's lowered, and, ha ! on a summat it strikes ! Thev haul it aboard with a British "heave-ho !" And what it has fished the drawing will show. There was Wilson, and Parker, and Tomlinson too — (The first was the captain, the others the crew)— As lively and spry as a Malabar ape. Quite pleased and surprised at their happy escape. And Alum, brave fellow, who stood in the fore, And never expected to look on them more, Was really delighted to see them again. For the truly courageous are truly humane. SIE BAENABY BAMPTON BOO. This is Sir Bamaby Bampton Boo, Last of a noble race, Barnaby Bampton, coming to woo, All at a deuce of a pace. Barnaby Bampton Boo, Here is a health to you : Here is wishing you luck, you elderly buck — Barnaby Bampton Boo ! The excellent women of Tuptonve© Knew Sir Barnaby Boo ; One of them surely his bride would be, But dickens a soul knew who. Women of Tuptonvee, Here is a health to ye : For a Baronet, dears, you would cut off you ears, Women of Tuptonvee ! SIR BARNAB Y B AMP TON BOO. 229 Here are old Mr. and Mrs. de Plow (Peter his Christian name), They kept seven oxen, a pig, and a cow — Farming it was their game. Worthy old Peter de Plow, Here is a health to thou : Your race isn't run, though you 're seventy-one. Worthy old Peter de Plow ! To excellent Mr. and Mrs. de Plow Came Sir Barnaby Boo, He asked for their daughter, and told 'em how He was as rich as a Jew. Barnaby Bampton's wealth. Here is your jolly good health: I 'd never repine if you came to be mine, Barnaby Bampton's wealth ! " O great Sir Barnaby Bampton Boo " (Said Plow to that titled swell), " My missus has given me daughters two — Amelia and Carrotty Nell ! " Amelia and Carrotty Nell, 1 hope you 're uncommonly well : You two pretty pearls, you extremely nice girls—- Amelia and Carrotty Nell I " There are Amelia and Carrotty Nell — Milly is good but plain, The other is pretty, as I 've heard tell, But terribly Dert and vain." 33© THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, Carrotty Ellen de Plow, I drink to you willingly now ; Butj oh, dear ! you sliould copy Milly the Good, Carrotty Ellen de Plow ! " Amelia is passable only in face, But, oh ! she 's a worthy girl ; Superior morals like hers would grace The home of a belted Earl." Morality, heavenly link ! To you I '11 eternally drink : I 'm awfully fond of that heavenly bond, Morality, heavenly link ! " Now, Nelly 's the prettier, pVaps, of my gals, But, oh ! she 's a wayward chit ; She dresses herself in her showy fal-lals, And doesn't read Tupper a bit !" O Tupper, philosopher true, How do you happen to do ? A publisher looks with respect on your books. For they do sell, philosopher true ! SIR BARNAB V BAM P TON BOO. 2ji The Bart. (I '11 be hanged if I drink him again, Or care if he 's ill or well), He sneered at the goodness of Milly the Plain, And cottoned to Carrotty Nell. O Carrotty Nelly de P. ! Be hanged if I 'll empty to thee : I like worthy maids, not mere frivolous jades, Carrotty Nelly de P. ! They bolted, the Bart, and his frivolous dear, And Milly was left to pout ; For years they 've got on very well, as I hear. But soon he will rue it, no doubt. excellent Milly de Plow, 1 really can't drink to you now ; My head isn't strong, and the song has been long, Excellent Milly de Plow ! THE MODEST COUPLE. Whex man and maiden meet, I like to see a drooping eye, I always droop my own — I am the shyest of the shy, I 'm also fond of bashfulness, and sitting down on thorns, And modesty's a quality that womankind adorns. Whenever I am introduced to any pretty maid. My knees they knock together, just as if I were afraid ; I flutter, and I stammer, and I turn a pleasing red, For to laugh, and flirt, and ogle I consider most ill-bred. Some persons when they're introduced to maidens young and fair, Begin at once by begging for a little lock of hair ; Or when they meet a strange young girl, they '11 take her round the waist ; Perhaps I am old fashioned, but it argues want of taste. THE MODEST COUPLE, 233 But still in all these matters, as in other things below, There is a proper medium, as 1 'm about to show. I do not recommend a newly-married pair to try- To carry on as Peter carried on with Sarah Bligh. Betrothed they were when very young — before they 'd learnt to speak (For Sarah was but six days old, and Peter was a week) ; Though little more than babies at those early ages, yet They bashfully would faint when they occasion- ally met. They blushed, and flushed, and fainted, till they reached the age of nine. When Peter's good Papa (he was a Baron of the Rhine) Determined to endeavour some sound argument to find To bring these shy young people to a proper frame of mind. 234 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. He told them that as Sarah was to be his Peter's bride, They might at least consent to sit at table side by- side: He begged that they would now and then shake hands, till he was hoarse, Which Sarah thought indelicate, and Peter very coarse. And Peter in a tremble to the blushing maid would say, " You must excuse Papa, Miss Bligh, — it is his mountain way.'' Says Sarah, " His behaviour I '11 endeavour to forget. But your Pa 's the very coarsest person that I ever met. " He plighted us without our leave, when we were very young. Before we had begun articulating with the tongue. His underbred suggestions fill your Sarah with alarm ; Why, gracious me ! he '11 ask us next to walk out arm in arm!" At length when Sarah reached the legal age of twenty-one. The Baron he determined to unite her to his son ; And Sarah in a fainting fit for weeks unconscious lay? And Peter blushed so hard you might have heard him miles away. And when the time arrived for taking Sarah to his heart, They were married in two churches half a dozen miles apart (Intending to escape all public ridicule and chaff), And the service was conducted by electric tele- graph. THE MODEST COUPLE, 23.5 And when it was concluded, and the priest had said his say, Until the time arrived when they were both to drive away They never spoke or offered for to fondle or to fawn, For }ie waited in the attic, and she waited on the lawn. At length, when four o'clock arrived, and it was time to go, The carriage was announced, but decent Sarah answered " No ! Upon my word, I 'd rather sleep my everlasting nap Than go and ride alone with Mr. Peter in a trap." And Peter's ever-sensitive and highly-polished mind Wouldn't suffer him to sanction a proceeding of the kind ; And further, he declared he suffered overwhelm- ing shocks At the bare idea of having any coachman on the box. So Peter in one chariot incontinently rushed, While Sarah in a second trap sat modestly and blushed ; And Mr. Newman's coachman, on authority I 've heard. Deposited himself upon the coach-box of a third. Now, though this modest couple in the matter of the car Were very likely carrying a principle too far, I hold their shy behaviour was more laudable in them Than that of Peter's brother with Miss Sarah's sister Em. 236 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. Alphonso, who in cool assurance all creation licks, He up and said to Emmie (who had impudence for six), " Miss Emily, I love you — will you marry ? Say the word ! " And Emily said, "Certainly, Alphonso, like a bird!" I do not recommend a newly-married pair to try 'To carry on as Peter carried on with Sarah Bligh, But still their shy behaviour was more laudable in them Than that of Peter's brother with Miss Sarah « sister Em. THE MAETINET. Some time ago, in simple verse I sang the story true Of Captain Reece, the Mantelpiece^ And all her happy crew. I showed how any captain may Attach his men to him, If he but heeds their smallest needs, And studies every whim. Now mark how, by Draconic rule And hauteur ill-advised, The noblest crew upon the Blue May be demoralized. When his ungrateful country placed Kind Reece upon half-pay, Without much claim Sir Berkely came, And took command one day. Sir Berkely was a martinet — A stern unyielding soul — Who ruled his ship by dint of whip And horrible black-hole. A sailor who was overcome From having freely dined, And chanced ta reel when at the wheel, He instantly confined ! 233 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. And tars wlio, when an action raged, Appeared alarmed or scared, And those below who wished to go, He very seldom spared. E'en he who smote his officer For punishment was booked, And mutinies upon the seas He rarely overlooked. In short, the happy Mantelpiece Where all had gone so well, Beneath that fool Sir Berkely's rule Became a floating hell. When first Sir Berkely came aboard He read a speech to all, And told them how he 'd made a vow To act on duty's call. Then William Lee, he up and said (The Captain's coxswain he) : " We 've heard the speech your honour 's made, And werry pleased we be. " We won't pretend, my lad, as how We 're glad to lose our Reece ; Urbane, polite, he suited quite The saucy Mantelpiece, " But if your honour gives your mind To study all our ways, With dance and song we '11 jog along As in those happy days. '■I like your honour's looks, and feel You 're worthy of your sword. Your hand, my lad — I 'm doosid glad To welcome you aboard ! " Sir Berkely looked amazed, as though He didn't understand. " Don't shake your head," good William said, " It is an honest hand. THE MARTINET. 239 " It 's grasped a better hand than yourn — Come, goy'nor, I insist ! " The Captain stared — the coxswain glared- The hand became a fist ! " Down, upstart 1 " said the hardy salt ; But Berkely dodged his aim, And made him go in chains below : The seamen murmured " Shame ! " He stopped all songs at 12 p.m., Stopped hornpipes when at sea, And swore his cot (or bunk) should not Be used by aught than he. He never joined their daily mess, Nor asked them to his own, But chaffed in gay and social way The ofiicers alone. His First Lieutenant, Peter, was As useless as could be, A helpless stick, and always sick When there was any sea. This First Lieutenant proved to be His foster-sister May, Who went to sea for love of he In masculine array. 240 THE "BAB"' BALLADS. And when he learnt the curious fact, Did he emotion show, Or dry her tears, or end her fears By marrying her ? No ! Or did he even try to soothe This maiden in her teens ? Oh, no I — instead he made her wed The Sergeant of Marines ! Of course such Spartan discipline Would make an angel fret. They drew a lot, and William shot This fearful Martinet. The Admiralty saw how ill They 'd treated Captain Reece ; He was restored once more aboard The saucy Mantelpiece, THE EEYEEEND SIMON MAGUS. A RICH advowson, highly prized, For private sale was advertised ; And many a parson made a bid ; The Keverend Simon Magus did. ^. '^ He sought the agent's : " Agent, I Have come prepared at once to buy (If your demand is not too big) The Cure of Otium-cum-Digge." " Ah ! " said the agent, " there 's a berth- The snuggest vicarage on earth ; No sort of duty (so I hear), And fifteen hundred pounds a year! " If on the price we should agree. The living soon will vacant be : The good incumbent 's ninety-five, And cannot very long survive. 242 THE '• BAB " BALLADS. " See — here 's his photograph — you see, He 's in his dotage." " Ah, dear me! Poor soul! " said Simon. " His decease "Would be a merciful release ! " The agent laughed — the agent blinked — The agent blew his nose and winked — And poked the parson's ribs in play — It was that agent's vulgar way. The Reverend Simon frowned : " I grieve This light demeanour to perceive ; It 's scarcely commie il faut, I think : Now — pray oblige me — do not wink. " Don't dig my waistcoat into holes — Your mission is to sell the souls Of human sheep and human kids To that divine who highest bids. " Do well in this, and on your head Unnumbered honours will be shed." The agent said, " Well, truth to tell, I have been doing very well." " You should," said Simon, " at your age ; But now about the parsonage. How many rooms does it contain? Show me the photograph again. A poor apostle's humble house Must not be too luxurious ; No stately halls with oaken floor — It should be decent and no more. THE REVEREND SIMON MAGUS. 243 " No billiard-rooms — no stately trees — No croquet-grounds or pineries." "All !" sighed the agent, " very true: This property won't do for you. " All these about the house you '11 find " — " Well," said the parson, " never mind ; I '11 manage to submit to these Luxurious superfluities. *^A clergyman who does not shirk The various calls of Christian work Will have no leisure to employ These ' common forms ' of worldly joy. " To preach three times on Sabbath days — To wean the lost from wicked ways — The sick to soothe — the sane to wed — The poor to feed with meat and bread ; " These are the various wholesome ways In which I '11 spend my nights and days : My zeal will have no time to cool At croquet, archery, or pool." The agent said, " From what I hear, This liWng will not suit, I fear — There are no poor, no sick at all ; For services there is no call." The reverend gent looked grave. " Dear me! Then there is no * society ' ?-— I mean, of course, no sinners there Whose souls will be my special care?'* The cunning agent shook his head, " No, none — except " — (the agent said) — " The Duke of A., the Earl of B., The Marquis C, and Viscoimt D. " But you will not be quite alone, For, though they 've chaplains of their own, Of course this noble well-bred clan Receive the parish clergyman." 244 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. ^ " Oh, silence, sir ! " said Simon M., " Dukes — earls ! What should I care for them ? These worldly ranks I scorn and flout, Of course." The agent said, " No doubt." " Yet I might show these men of birth The hollowness of rank on earth." The agent answered, " Very true — But I should not, if I were you." " Who sells this rich advowson, pray ? " The agent winked — it was his way — *' His name is Hart ; 'twixt me and you, He is, I 'm grieved to say, a Jew ! " ** A Jew ?" said Simon, " happy find ! I purchase this advowson, mind. My life shall be devoted to Converting that unhappy Jew ! '" DAMON V, PYTHIAS. Two better friends you wouldn't pass Throughout a summer's day, Than Damon and his Pythias, — Two merchant princes they. At school together they contrived All sorts of boyish larks ; And, later on, together thrived As merry merchants' clerks. And then, when many years had flown. They rose together till They bought a business of their own— And they conduct it still. 246 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. They loved eacTi other all their lives, Dissent they never knew, And, stranger still, their very wives Were rather friendly too. Perhaps you think, to serve my end? These statements I refute When I admit that these dear friends Were parties to a suit. But 't was a friendly action, for Good Pythias, as you see. Fought merely as executor, And Damon as trustee. They laughed to think, as through the throng Of suitors sad they past. That they, who 'd lived and loved so long. Should go to law at last. The junior briefs they kindly let Two sucking counsel hold ; These learned persons never yet Had tasted suitors' gold. But though the happy suitors two Were friendly as could be. Not so the junior counsel who Were earning maiden fee. They too, till then, were friends. At school They 'd done each other's sums. And under Oxford's gentle rule Had been the closest chums. But now they met with scowl and grin In every public place, And often snapped their fingers in Each other's learned face. It almost ended in a fight When they on path or stair Met face to face. They made it quite A personal affair. DAMON V. PYTHIAS. 247 (Enthusiastically high Your sense of legal strife, When it affects the sanctity Of your domestic life.) And when at length the case was called (It came on rather late), Spectators really were appalled To see their deadly hate. One junior rose — with eyeballs tense, And swollen frontal veins : To all his powers of eloquence He gave the fullest reins. His argument was novel — for A verdict he relied On blackening the junior Upv>n the other side. " Oh," said the Judge at "Westminster, " The matter in dispute To arbitration pray refer — ■ This is a friendly suit." And Pythias, in merry mood, Digged Damon in the side ; And Damon, tickled with the feud. With other digs replied. But oh! those deadly counsel twain, Who were such friends before, Were never reconciled again ; They quarrelled more and more. At length it happened that they met On Alpine heights one day. And then they paid each other's debt— Their fury had its way. They seized each other in a trice, With scorn and hatred filled, And falling from a precipice, They, both of them^ were killed. THE SAILOE BOY TO HIS LASa I GO away this blessed day, To sail across the sea, Matilda ! My vessel starts for various parts At twenty after three, Matilda. I hardly know where we may go, Or if it 's near or far, Matilda, For Captain Hyde does not confide In any 'foremast tar, Matilda 1 Beneath my ban that mystic man Shall suffer, coUte qui coMe, Matilda! What right has he to keep from me The Admiralty route, Matilda ? Because, forsooth ! I am a youth Of common sailors' lot, Matilda! Am 1 a man on human plan Designed, or am I not, Matilda? THE SAlLUR BOY TO HIS LASS. 249 But there, my lass, we '11 let that pass ! With anxious love I burn, Matilda. I want to know if we shall go To church when I return, MatiMa ? Your ej-es are red, you bow your head ; It 's pretty clear you thirst, Matilda, To name the day — What 's that vou say ? — " You '11 see me further first," Matilda ? I can't mistake the signs you make, Although you barely speak, Matilda ; Though pure and young, you thrust your tongue Right in your pretty cheek, Matilda ! My dear, I fear I hear you sneer — I do — I'm sure I do, Matilda — With simple grace you make a face, Ejaculating, "Ugh!" Matilda. Oh, pause to think before you drink The dregs of Lethe's cup, Matilda ! Remember, do, what I 've gone through, Before you give me up, Matilda ! 250 THE "BAB'' BALLADS. Recall again the mental pain Of what I 've had to do, Matilda ! And be assured that I 've endured It, all along of you, Matilda !■ Do you forget, my blithesome pet. How once with jealous rage, Matilda, I watched you walk and gaily talk With some one thrice your age, Matilda? You squatted free upon his knee, A sight that made me sad, Matilda ! You pinched his cheek with friendly tweak, Which almost drove me mad, Matilda ! I know him not, but hoped to spot Some man you thought to wed, Matilda ! I took a gun, my darling one, And shot him through the head, Matilda ! I 'm made of stuff that 's rough and gruff Enough, I own ; but, ah, Matilda ! It did annoy your poor old boy To find it was your Pa, Matilda ! I 've passed a life of toil and strife, And disappointments deep, Matilda ; I 've lain awake with dental ache Until I fell asleep, Matilda ! At times again I 've missed a train. Or p'rhaps run short of tin, Matilda, And worn a boot on corns that shoot. Or, shaving, cut my chin, Matilda ! But, oh ! no trains — no dental pains — Believe me when I say, Matilda, No corns that shoot — no pinching boot Upon a summer day, Matilda — It 's my belief, could cause such grief As that I 've suffered for, Matilda, My having shot in vital spot Your old progenitor, Matilda, Bethink you how I 've kept the vow I made one winter day, Matilda — That, come what could, I never would Remain too long away Matilda. THE SAILOR BOY TO HIS LASS. 251 And, oh! the crimes with which, at times, I 've charged my gentle mind, Matilda, To keep the vow I made — and now You treat me so unkind, Matilda! For when at sea, off Caribbee, I felt my passion burn, Matilda Bypassion egged, I went and begged The captain to return, Matilda. And when, my pet, I couldn't get That captain to agree, Matilda, Right through a sort of open port I pitched him in the sea, Matilda! Remember, too, how all the crew. With indignation blind, Matilda, Distinctly swore they ne'er before Had thought me so unkind, Matilda. And how they 'd shun me one by one — An unforgiving group, Matilda — I stopped their howls and sulky scowls By pizening their soup, Matilda! 252 THE '^BAB'' BALLADS. So pause to think, before you drink The dregs of Lethe's cup, Matilda ! Remember, do, what I 've gone through, Before you give me up, Matilda. Recall again the mental pain Of what I 've had to do, Matilda, And be assured that 1 've endured It, all along of you, Matilda! Mr DEEAM. The other night, from cares exempt, I slept — and what d' you think I dreamt ? I dreamt that somehow I had come To dwell in Topsy-Turveydom ! — "Where vice is virtue — virtue, vice : Where nice is nasty — nasty, nice : Where right is wrong and wrong is right- Where white is black and black is white. Where babies, much to their surprise, Are born astonishingly wise ; With every Science on their lips, And Art at all their finger-tips. For, as their nurses dandle them, They crow binomial theorem. With views (it seems absurd to us) On differential calculus. But though a babe, as I have said, Is born with learning in his head, He must forget it, if he can, Before he calls himself a man. 254 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. For that whicli we call folly liei-e Is wisdom in that favoured sphere ; The wisdom we so highly prize Is blatant folly in their eyes. A boy, if he would push hiss way, Must learn some nonsense every day; And cut, to carry out this view, His wisdom teeth and wisdom too. Historians burn their midnight oils, Intent on giant-killers' toils ; And sages close their aged eyes To other sages' lullabies. Our magistrates, in duty bound, Commit all robbers who are found ; But there the beaks (so people said) Commit all robberies instead. Our judges, pure and wise in tone^ Know crime from theory alone. And glean the motives of a thief From books and popular belief. But there, a judge who wants to prime His mind with true ideas of crime, Derives them from the common sense Of practical experience. MY DREAM. Policemen march all folks away Who practise virtue every day — Of course, 1 mean to say, you know, Wliat we call virtue here below. For only scoundrels dare to do What we consider just and true, And only good men do, in fact. What we should think a dirty act. 255 But strangest of these social twirls. The girls are boys — the boys are girls ! The men are women, too — but then, Per contra^ women all are men. To one who to tradition clings This seems an awkward state of things, But if to think it out you try, It doesn't really signify. With them, as surely as can be, A sailor should be sick at sea. And not a passenger may sail Who cannot smoke right through a gale. A soldier (save by rarest luck) Is always shot for showing pluck, (That is, if others can be found With pluck enough to fire a round). 256 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, " How strange," I said to one I saw, " You quite upset our every law. However can you get along So systematically wrong ? " ** Dear me," my mad informant said, " Have you no eyes within your head ? You sneer when you your hat should doff; Why, we begin where you leave off ! " Your wisest men are very far Less learned than our babies are." I mused awhile — and then, oh, me! I framed this brilliant repartee : " Although your babes are wiser far Than our most valued sages are, Your sages, with their toys and cots, Are duller than our idiots ! " But this remark, I grieve to state, Came just a little bit too late ; For as I framed it in my head, I woke and found myself in bed. Still I could wish that, 'stead of here, My lot were in that favoured sphere !— Where greatest fools bear off the bell I ought to do extremely well. THE BISHOP OF EUM-TI-FOO, AQ^AIN. I OFTEN wonder whether you Think sometimes of that Bishop, who From black but balmy Rum-ti-Foo Last summer twelvemonth came. Unto your mind 1 p'raps may bring Remembrance of the man I sing To-day, by simply mentioning That Peter was his name. Eemember how that holy man Came with the great Colonial clan To Synod called Pan-Anglican ; And kindly recollect How, having crossed the ocean wide, To please his flock all means he tried Consistent with a proper pride And manly seK-respect. He only, of the reverend pack Who minister to Christians black Brought any useful knowledge back To his Colonial fold. In consequence a place I claim For ' Peter" on the scroll of Fame (For Peter was that Bishop's name, As I 've already told). 258 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, He carried Art, he often said, To places where that timid maid (Save by Colonial Bishops' aid) Could never hope to roam. The Payne-cum-Lauri feat he taught As he had learnt it ; for he thought The choicest fruits of Progress ought To bless the Negro's home. And he had other work to do, For, while he tossed upon the blue, The islanders of Rum-ti-Foo Forgot their kindly friend. Their decent clothes they learnt to tear — They learnt to say, " I do not care," Though they, of course, were well aware How folks, who say so, end. Some sailors, whom he did not know, Had landed there not long ago. And taught them "Bother " also, "Blow!" (Of wickedness the germs.) No need to use a casuist's pen To prove that they were merchantmen ; No sailor of the Royal N. Would use such awful terms. BISHOP OF RUM-TI-FOO, AGAIN: 259 And so, when Bishop Peter came (That was the kindly Bishop's name), He heard these dreadful oaths with shame, And chid their want of dress. (Except a shell — a bangle rare — A feather here — a feather there — ) The South Pacific negroes wear Their native nothingness. He taught them that a Bishop loathes To listen to disgraceful oaths, He gave them all his left-off clothes — They bent them to his will. The Bishop's gift spreads quickly round ; In Peter's left-off clothes they bound (His three-and-twenty suits they found In fair condition still). The Bishop's eyes with water fill, Quite overjoyed to find them still Obedient to his sovereign will. And said, " Good Rum-ti-Foo ! Half-way I '11 meet you, I declare : 26o THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. I '11 dress myself in cowries rare, And fasten feathers in my hair, And dance the ' Cutch-chi-boo !"' * And to conciliate his see He married Piccadillillee, The yoiingest of his twenty-three, Tall — neither fat nor thin. (And though the dress he made her don Looks awkwardly a girl upon, It was a great improvement on The one he found her in.) The Bishop in his gay canoe (His wife, of course, went with him too) To some adjacent island flew, To spend his honeymoon. Some day in sunny Rum-ti-Foo A little Peter 11 be on view ; And that (if people tell me true) Is like to happen soon. Described by Mungo Park. THE HAUGHTY ACTOR. An actor — Gibbs, of Drury Lane — Of very decent station, Once happened in a part to gain Excessive approbation : It sometimes turns a fellow's brain And makes him singularly vain When he believes that he receives Tremendous approbation. His great success half drove him mad, But no one seemed to mind him ; Well, in another piece he had Another part assigned him. This part was smaller, by a bit, Than that in which he made a hit. So, much ill-used, he straight refused To play the part assigned him. TJiat night that actor slept, and I'll attempt To tell you of the vivid dream lie dreamt : 362 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, ' THE DREAM. In fighting with a robber band (A thing he loved sincerely) A sword struck Gibbs upon the hand And wounded it severely. At first he didn't heed it much, He thought it was a simple touch. But soon he found the weapon's bound Had wounded him severely. To Surgeon Cobb he made a trip, Who 'd just effected featly An amputation at the hip Particularly neatly. A rising man was Surgeon Cobb, But this extremely ticklish job He had achieved (as he believed) Particularly neatly. The actor rang the surgeon's bell, " Observe my wounded finger, Be good enough to strap it well. And prithee do not linger. That I, dear sir, may fill again The Theatre Royal Drury Lane: This very night I have to fight — So prithee do not linger." " I don't strap fingers up for doles," Replied the haughty surgeon ; *' To use your cant, I don't play roles * Utility ' that verge on. * First amputation' — nothing less — That is my line of business : We surgeon nobs despise all jobs Utility that verge on. "When in your hip there lurks di-*- ease " (So dreamt this lively dreamer) " Or devastating caries In humerus or femur. If you can pay a handsome lee. Oh, then you may remember me — With joy elate I '11 amputate You" humerus oi fenmr." THE HAUGHTY ACTOR. 263 The disconcerted actor ceased The haughty leech to pester, But when the wound in size increased And then began to fester, He sought a learned Counsel's lair, And told that Counsel, then and there> How Cobb's neglect of his defect Had made his finger fester. kiu " Oh, bring my action, if you please, The case I pray you urge on, And win me thumping damages From Cobb, that haughty surgeon. He culpably neglected me Although I proffered him his fee, So pray come down, in wig and gown, On Cobb, that haughty surgeon. " That Counsel learned in the laws, With passion almost trembled. He just had gained a mighty cause Before the Peers assembled ! Said he, " How dare you have the face To come with Common Jury case To one who wings rhetoric flings Before the Peers assembled ? " 264 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. Dispirited became our friend — Depressed his moral pecker — «' But stay ! a thouglit I I'll gain my end And save my poor exchequer. I won't be placed upon the shelf, I '11 take it into Court myself, And legal lore display before The Court of the Exchequer." He found a Baron— one of those Who with our laws supply us — In wig and silken gown and hose, As if at Nisi Prius. But he'd just given, off the reel, A famous judgment on Appeal : It scarce became his heightened fame To sit at Nisi Prius. Our friend began, with easy wit. That half concealed his terror. " Pooh ! " said the Judge, " I only sit In Banco or in Error. Can you suppose, my man, that I 'd O'er Nisi Prius Courts preside, Or condescend my time to spend On anything but Error ? THE HA UGHT Y A CTOR. 265 " Too bad," said Gibbs, " my case to shirk ! You must be bad innately, To save your skill for migbty work Because it 's valued greatly ! " But here he woke, with sudden start. He wrote to say he 'd play the part. I Ve but to tell he played it well — The author's words — his native wit Combined, achieved a perfect " hit " — The papers praised him greatly. THE TWO MAJORS. An excellent soldier who 's worthy the name, Loves officers dashing and strict : When good, he 's content with escaping all blame, When naughty, he likes to be licked. He likes for a fault to be bullied and stormed, Or imprisoned for several days, And hates, for a duty correctly performed, To be slavered with sickening praise. No officer sickened with praisea his corps So little as Major La Guerre — No officer swore at his warriors more Than Major Makredi Prepere. ThE TWO MAJORS. 267 They agreed at their mess — they agreed in the glass — They agreed in the choice of their " set," And they also agreed in adoring, alas! The Vivandiere, pretty Fillette. Agreement, you see, may be carried too far, And after agreeing all round For years — in this soldierly " maid of the bar" A bone of contention they found ! Their soldiers adored them, and every grade Delighted to hear their abuse ; Though whenever these officers came on parade. They shivered and shook in their shoes. For, oh ! if La Guerre could all praises withhold Why, so could Makredi Prepere, And, oh ! if Makredi could bluster and scold, Why, so could the mighty La Guerre. " No doubt we deserve it — no mercy we crave — Go on — you 're conferring a boon ; We would rather be slanged by a warrior brave, Than praised by a wretched poltroon ! " Makredi would say that in battle's fierce rage True happiness only was met : Poor Major Makredi, though fifty his age, Had never known happiness yet ! La Guerre would declare, "With the blood of a foe No tipple is worthy to clink." Poor fellow ! he hadn't, though sixty or so, Yet tasted his favourite drink ! 268 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. It may seem improper to call such a pet — By a metaphor, even — a bone ; But though they agreed in adoring her, yet Each wanted to make her his own. "On the day that you marry her," mutteretl Prepere (With a pistol he quietly played), " I '11 scatter the brains in your noddle, I swear, All over the stony parade !" *' I cannot do that to you," answered La Guerre j " AVhatever events may befall ; But this / can do — if '^ou wed her, mon cher! I '11 eat you, moustachios and all ! The rivals, although they would never engage. Yet quarrelled whenever they met ! They met in a fury and left in a rage, But neither took pretty Fillette. " I am not afraid," thought Makredi Prepere : " For country I 'm ready to fall ; Bnt nobody wants, for a mere Vivandiere, To be eaten, moustachios and all ! THE TWO MAJORS 269 « Besides, though La Guerre has his faults, I '11 allow He 's one of the bravest of men : My goodness ! If I disagree with him now, 1 might disagree with him then." "No coward am I," said La Guerre, "as you guess — I sneer at an enemy's blade ; But I don't want Prepere to get into a mess For splashing the stony parade !" One day on parade to Prepere and La Guerre Came Corporal Jacotte Debette, And trembling all over, he prayed of them there To give him the pretty Fillette. " Yon see, I am willing to marry my bride Until you 've arranged this affair ; I will blow out my brains when your honours decide Which marries the sweet Vivandiere ! " " Well, take her," said both of them in a duet (A favourite form of reply), " But when I am ready to marry Fillette Remember you 've promised to die ! " He married her then ; from the flowery plains Of existence the roses they cull : He lived and he died with his wife ; and his brains Are reposing in peace in his skull. A WORM WILL TUEN. I LOVE a man who '11 smile and joke When with misfortune crowned ; Who 11 pun beneath a pauper's yoke, And as he breaks his daily toke, Conundrums gay propound. Just such a man was Bernard Jupp, He scoffed at Fortune's frown ; He gaily drained his bitter cup- Though Fortune often threw him up, It never cast him down. Though years their share of sorrow bring, We know that far above All other griefs, are griefs that spring From some misfortune happening To those we really love. E'en sorrow for another's woe Our Bernard failed to quell ; Though by this special form of blow No person ever suffered so, Or bore his grief so well. His father, wealthy and well clad, And owning house and park, Lost every halfpenny he had. And then became (extremely sad !) A popr attorney's clerk A WORM WILL TURN. 271 All sons it surely would appal, Except the passing meek, To see a father lose his all, And from an independence fall To one pound ten a week ! But Jupp shook off this sorrow's weight, And like a Christian son, Proved Poverty a happy fate — Proved Wealth to be a devil's bait. To lure poor sinners on. With other sorrows Bernard coped. For sorrows came in packs ; His cousins with their housemaids sloped- His uncles died — his aunts eloped — His sisters married blacks. But Bernard, far from murmuring, (Exemplar, friends, to us) Determined to his faith to cling, — He made the best of everything. And argil erl softly thus : " 'T were harsh my uncles' forging knack Too rudely to condemn — My aunts, repentant, may come back, And blacks are nothing like as black As people colour them." 272 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, Still Fate, with many a sorrow rife, Maintained relentless hj^ht : His grandmamma next losik her Vi%, Then died the mother of his wife. But still he seemed all right. His brother fond (the only link To life that bound him now) One morning, overcome by driiik, He broke his leg (the right, I thir !v ^ In some disgraceful row. But did my Bernard swear and cur.s^ * Oh, no — to murmur loth, He only said, " Go, get a nurse : Be thankful that it isn't worse ; You might have broken both." But worms who watch without conceir'. The cockchafer on thorns, Or beetles smashed, themselves will Xvcm, I^ walking through the slippery fern, You tread upon their coins. A WORM WILL TURN. 273 And if when all the mischiers done You watch their dying squirms, And listen, ere their breath has run, You '11 hear them sigh " Oh, clumsy one !" — And devil blame the worms. One night, as Bernard made his track Through Brompton home to bed, A footpad, with a vizor black. Took watch and purse, and dealt a crack On Bernard's saint-like head. It was too much — his spirit rose, He looked extremely cross. Men thought him steeled to mortal foes, But no — he bowed to countless blows, But kicked against this loss. He finally made up his mind Upon his friends to call ; Subscription lists were largely signed, For men were really glad to find Him mortal, after all ! EMILY, JOHN, JAMES, AND I. A Derby Legend. Emily Jane was a nursery maid — James was a bold Life Guard, John was a constable, poorly paid, (And I am a doggerel bard). A very good girl was Emily Jane, Jimmy was good and true, John was a very good man in the main (And I am a good man too). / Rivals for Emmie were Johnny and James, Though Emily liked them both ; She couldn't tell which had the strongest claims (And / couldn't take my oath). But sooner or later you're certain to find Your sentiments can't lie hid — Jane thought it was time that she made up her mind (And I think it was time she did). EMIL Y, JOHN, JAMES, AND I. 275 Said Jane with a smirk, and a blush on her face, " I '11 promise to wed the boy Who takes me to-morrow to Epsom Race !" (Which I would have done, with joy). From Johnny escaped an expression of pain, But Jimmy said, " Done with you ! 1 '11 take you with pleasure, my Emily Jane !" (And I would have said so too). John lay on the ground, and he roared like mad (For Johnny was sore perplexed), And he kicked very hard at a very small lad (Which I often do, when vexed). For John was on duty next day with the Force, To punish all Epsom crimes ; Young people will cross when they're clearing the course (I do it myself, sometimes). The Derby Day sun glittered gaily on cads, On maidens with gamboge hair. On sharpers and pickpockets, swindlers and pads — (For I, with my harp, was there). And Jimmy went down with his Jane that day, And John by the collar or nape Seized everybody who came in his way (And J had a narrow escape). He noticed his Emily Jane with Jim, And envied the well-made elf; And people remarked that he muttered "Oh, dim!" (I often say " dim!" myself). John dogged them all day, without asking their leaves ; For his sergeant he told, aside, That Jimmy and Jane were notorious thieves (And I think he was justified). 276 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. And James wouldn't dream of abstracting a fork, And Jenny would blush with shame At stealing so much as a bottle or cork (A bottle I think fair game). But, ah ! there 's another more serious crime ! They wickedly strayed upon The course at a critical moment of time (I pointed them out to John). The crusher came down on the pair in a crack — And then, with a demon smile. Let Jenny cross over, but sent Jimmy back (I played on my harp the while). Stern Johnny their agony loud derides With a very triumphant sneer — They weep and they wail from the opposite sides (And / shed a silent tear). And Jenny is crying away like mad, And Jimmy is swearing hard ; And Johnny is looking uncommonly glad (And I am a doggerel bard). But Jimmy he ventured on crossing again The scenes of our Isthmian Games — EMIL V, JOHN, JAMES, AND I. 277 John cauglit him, and collared him, giving him pain (I felt very much for James). John led him away with a victor's hand, And Jimmy was shortly seen In the station-house under the grand Grand Stand (As many a time Vve been). And Jimmy, bad boy, was imprisoned for life, Though Emily pleaded hard ; And Johnny had Emily Jane to wife (And I am a doggerel bard). THE PEEILS OF INYISIBILITT. Old Peter led a wretched life — Old Peter had a furious wife ; Old Peter too was truly stout, He measured several yards about. The little fairy Picklekin One summer afternoon looked in, And said, " Old Peter, how de do ? Can I do anything for you ? " I have three gifts — the first will give Unbounded riches while you live ; The second, health where'er you be ; The third, invisibility." THE TERILS OF INVISIBILITY. 279 '* O little fairy Picklekin," Old Peter answwed with a grin, " To hesitate would be absurd, — Undoubtedly I choose the third." " 'T is yours," the fairy said ; " be quite Invisible to mortal sight Whene'er you please. Remember me Most kindly, pray, to Mrs. P." Old Mrs. Peter overheard Wee Picklekin's concluding word, And, jealous of her girlhood's choice. Said, " That was some young woman's voice ! " Old Peter let her scold and swear- - Old Peter, bless him, didn't care. " My dear, your rage is wasted quite- Observe, I disappear from sight !" A well-bred fairy (so I 've heard) Is always faithful to her Avord : Old Peter vanished like a shot, But then — liis suit of clothes did Twt^ For when conferred the fairy slim Invisibility on him, She popped away on fairy wings. Without referring to his " things." So there remained a coat of blue, A vest and double eyeglass too. His tail, his shoes, his socks as well, His pair of — no, I must not tell. Old Mrs. Peter soon began To see the failure of his plan. And then resolved (I quote the Bard) To " Hoist him with his own petard." Old Peter woke next day and dressed, Put on his coat and shoes and vest, His shirt and stock — hut could not find His only pair 0/— never mind ! 280 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. Old Peter was a decent man, And though he twigged his lady's plan, Yet, hearing her approaching, he Resumed invisibility. " Dear Mrs. P., my only joy," Exclaimed the horrified old boy, " Now give them up, I beg of you — You know what 1 'm referring to !" But no ; the cross old lady swore She 'd keep his — what 1 said before — To make him publicly absurd ; And Mrs. Peter kept her word. The poor old fellow had no rest ; His coat, his stock, his shoes, his vest, Were all that now met mortal eye — The rest, invisibility ! " Now, madam, give them up, I beg — I 've had rheumatics in my le^ ; Besides, until you do, it 's plain I cannot come to sight again ! THE PERILS OF INVISIBILITY. 2S1 " For thougli some mirtli it might afford To see my clothes without their lord, Yet there would rise indignant oaths If he were seen without his clothes ! " But no ; resolved to have her quiz, The lady held her own — and his — And Peter left his humble cot To find a pair of — you know what. But — here 's the worst of this affair — Whene 'er he came across a pair Already placed for him to don, He was too stout to get them on! So he resolved at once to train, And walked and walked with all his main : For years he paced this mortal earth, To bring himself to decent girth. At night, when all around is still, You '11 find him pounding up a hill ; And shrieking peasants whom he meets, Fall down in terror on the peats ! Old Peter walks through wind and rain, Kesolved to train, and train, and train, Until he weighs twelve stone or so — And when he does, I '11 let you know. OLD PAUL AND OLD TIM. When rival adorers come courting a maid, There 's something or other may often be said, Why he should be pitched upon rather than him. This wasn't the case with Old Paul and Old Tim. No soul could discover a reason at all For marrying Timothy rather than Paul ; Though all could have offered good reasons, on oath. Against marrying either — or marrying both. They were equally wealthy and equally old, They were equally timid and equally bold ; They were equally tall as they stood in their shoes. Between them, in fact, there was nothing to choose. Had I been young Emily, I should have said, " You 're both of you old for a pretty young maid, Threescore at the least you are verging upon ; " But I wasn't young Emily. Let us go on. No coward's blood ran in young Emily's veins. Her martial old father loved bloody campaigns ; At the rumours of battles all over the globe He pricked up his ears like the war-horse in "Job." He chuckled to hear of a sudden surprise Of soldiers, compelled, through an enemy's spies, Without any knapsacks or shakas to flee, For an eminent army-contractor was he. OLD PA UL AND OLD TIAL 283 So when her two lovers, whose patience was tried, Implored her between them at once to decide. She told them she 'd marry whichever might bring Good proofs of his doing the pluckiest thing. They both went away with a qualified joy : That coward, Old Paul, chose a very small boy, And when no one was looking, in spite of his fears. He set to work boxing that little boy's ears. The little boy struggled and tugged at his hair. But the lion was roused, and Old Paul didn't care ; He smacked him and whacked him, and boxed him and kicked. Till the poor little beggar was royally licked. Old Tim knew a trick worth a dozen of that. So he called for his stick and he called for his hat. " I '11 cover myself with cheap glory — I '11 go A.nd woUop the Frenchmen who live in Soho ! ' The German invader is ravaging France ^ith infantry rifle and cavalry lance. And beautiful Paris is fighting her best To shake herseK free from her terrible guest. 284 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. " The Frenchmen in London, in craven alarms, Have all run away from the summons to arms ; They haven't the pluck of a pigeon — I '11 go And wollop the Frenchmen who skulk in Soho ! * Old Timothy tried it and found it succeed : That day he caused many French noses to bleed ; Through foggy Soho he spread fear and dismay, And Frenchmen all round him in agony lay. He took care to abstain from employing his fist , On the old and the crippled, for they might resist ; An elderly one may have pluck in his breast, But the young and the strong ones are cowards confest. Old Tim and Old Paul, with the list of their foes, Prostrated themselves at their Emily's toes : " Oh, which of us two is the pluckier blade ? " And Emily answered and Emily said : " Old Tim has thrashed runaway Frenchmen in scores Who ought to be guarding their cities and shores ; Old Paul has made little chaps' noses to bleed- Old Paul has accomplished the pluckier deed 1 THE CUNNING WOMAN. In all Arcadia's sunny plain, On all Arcadia's hill, None were so blithe as Bill and Jane, So blithe as Jane and Bill. No social earthquake e'er occurred To rack their common mind : To them a Panic was a word — A Crisis, empty wind. No Stock Exchange disturbed the lad With overwhelming shocks — Bill ploughed with all the shares he had, Jane planted all her stocks. And learn in what a simple way Their pleasures they enlianced — Jane danced like any lamb all day, Bill piped as well as danced. Surrounded by a twittling crew Of linnet, lark, and thrush, Bill treated his young lady to This sentimental gush : t>' " Oh, Jane, how true I am to you ! How true you are to me ! And how we woo, and how we coo! So fond a pair are we ! **To think, dear Jane, that anyways Your chiefest end and aim Is, one of these fine summer days. To bear my honoured name ! '' Quoth Jane, " Well, as you put the case, I 'm true enough, no doubt. But then, you see, in this here place There 's none to cut you out. 286 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. " But, oh ! if anybody came, A lord or any siicli, I do not think your honoured name Would fascinate me much. " For though your pals, you often boast You distance out-and-out ; Still, in the abstract, you 're a most Uncompromising lout ! " Poor Bill he gave a heavy sigh, He tried in vain to speak — A fat tear started to each eye And coursed adown each cheek. For, oh ! right well in truth, he knew That very selfsame day The Lord de Jacob Pillaloo Was coming there to stay. The Lord de Jacob Pillaloo All proper maidens shun — He loves all womankind, it 's true, But never marries none. Now Jane, with all her mad self-will, Was no coquette — oh, no ! She really loved her painful Bill, And thus she tuned her woe : " Oh, willow, willow, o'er the lea ! And willow once again ! He's sure to fall in love with me' Why wasn't I made plain ? " A cunning woman lived hard by, A sorceressing dame, Mac Catacomb de Salmon-Eye Was her uncommon name ! To her good Jane, with kindly yea,rn For Bill's increasing pain. Repaired in secret for to learn How best to make her plain. THE CUNNING WOMAN. 287 **0h, Jane," the worthy woman said, " This mystic phial keep, And rub its liquor in your head Before you go to sleep. •' When you awake next day, I trow, You '11 look in form and hue To others just as you do now — But not to Pillaloo ! *' "When you approach him, you will find He '11 think you coarse — unkempt — And coarsely bid you get behind, With undisguised contempt." The Lord de Pillaloo arrived With his expensive train, And when in state serenely hived^ He sent for Bill and Jane. 288 THE '' BAB'' BALLADS, "Oh, spare lier, Lord of Pillaloo! If ever wed you be, There 's anything I 'd rather do Than flirt with Lady P." Lord Pillaloo looked in her eye, He looked her through and through t The cunning woman^s prophecy Was clearly coming true. Lord Pillaloo, the Rustic's Bane (Bad person he, and proud), He laughed Ha ! ha ! at pretty Jane, And sneered at her aloud ! He bade her get behind him then, And seek her mother's stye — Yet to her native countrymen She was as fair as aye ! Mac Catacomb, continue green ! Grow, Salmon-Eye, in might \ Except for you, there might have been The deuce's own delight ! PHRENOLOGY. "♦JOME, collar this bad man — Around the throat he knotted me Till I to choke began — In point of fact, garotted me ! " Bo spake Sir Herbert White To James, Policeman Thirty-two — All ruffled with his fight Sir Herbert was, and dirty too. Policeman nothing said (Though he had much to say on it) But from the bad man's head He took the cap that lay on it. ago THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. **No, great Sir Herbert White^ Impossible to take him up. This man is honest quite — Wherever did you rake him up f ** For Burglars, Thieves, and Co., Indeed I 'm no apologist, But I, some years agOj Assisted a Phrenologist. ** Observe his various bumps, His head as I uncover it ; His morals lie in lumps All round about and over it." "Now take him," said Sir White, " Or you will soon be rueing it ; Bless me ! I must be right, — I caught the fellow doing it ! " Policeman calmly smiled, " Indeed you are mistaken, sir, You 're agitated — riled — And very badly shaken, sir. "Sit down, and I'll explain My system of Phrenology, A second, please, remain " — (A second is horology). Policeman left his beat — (The Bart., no longer furious, FHRENOLOa Y. 29J Sat down upon a seat, Observing, "This is curious l'^ " Oh, surely, here are signs Should soften your rigidity, This gentleman combines Politeness with timidity. " Of Shyness here 's a lump— A hole for Animosity — And like my list his bump Of Impecuniosity. ** Just here the bump appears Of Innocent Hilarity, And just behind his ears Are Faith, and Hope, and Charity. ** He of true Christian ways As bright example sent us is — This maxim he obeys, ^^orte tud coiitentus sis* ** There, let him go his ways, He needs no stern admonishing." The Bart., in blank amaze. Exclaimed, " This is astonishing ! ** I must have made a mull, This matter I 've been iDlind in it : Examine, please, my skull, And tell me what you find in it.'' That Crusher looked, and said With unimpaired urbanity, " Sir Herbert, you 've a head That teems with inhumanity. ** Here 's Murder, Envy, Strife (Propensity to kill any), And Lies as large as life, And heaps of Social Villany. 292 THE "BAB** BALLADS. '* Here 's Love of Bran New Clothes, Embezzling — Arson— Deism — A taste for Slang and Oaths, And Fraudulent Trusteeism. ** Here 's Love of Groundless Charge-— Here 's Malice, too, and Trickery, Unusually large Your bump of Pocket- Pickery — ^ **Stop!" said the Bart,, "my cup Is full — I 'm worse than him in oil 5 Policeman, take me up — No doubt I am some criminal !" That Pleeceman's scorn grew large (Phrenology had nettled it). He took that Bart, in charge — I don't know how they settled it- THE MYSTIC SALVAGEE. Perhaps already you may know Sir Blennerhasset Portico? A Captain in the Navy, he — A Baronet and K.C.B. You do ? I thought so! It was that captain's favourite whim (A notion not confined to him) That Rodney was the greatest tar Who ever wielded capstan-bar. He had been taught so. ** Benbow ! Cornwallis ! Hood ! — Belay ! Compared with Rodney" — he would say — *' No other tar is worth a rap! The great Lord Rodney was the chap The French to polish ! Though, mind you, I respect Lord Hood ; Cornwallis, too, was rather good ; Benbow could enemies repel. Lord Nelson, too, was pretty well — Thatis, tol-lol-ish!" Bir Blennerhasset spent his days In learning Rodney's little ways, And closely imitated, too. His mode of talking to his crew — His port and paces. 294 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. An ancient tar he tried to catcli Who 'd served in Rodney's famous batch But since his time long years have fled, And Rodney's tars are mostly dead : Eheu fugaces I But after searching near and far, At last he found an ancient tar Who served with Rodney and his crew Against the French in 'Eighty-two, (That gained the peerage). He gave him fifty pounds a year. His rum, his baccy, and his beer ; And had a comfortable den Rigged up in what, by merchantmen, Is called the steerage. " Now, Jasper" — 't was that sailor's name — " Don't fear that you '11 incur my blame By saying, when it seems to you, That there is anything I do That Rodney wouldn't.* The ancient sailor turned his quid, Prepared to do as he was bid : "Ay, ay, yer honour; to begin. You 've done away with ' swifting in ' — Well, sir,^ou shouldn't ! THE M YS TIC SAL VA GEE, 295 " Upon your spars I see you 've clapped Peak halliard blocks, all iron-capped. I would not christen that a crime, But 't was not done in Rodney's time. It looks half-witted ! Upon your maintop-stay, I see, You always clap a salvagee ! Your stays, 1 see, are equalized — No vessel, such as Rodney prized. Would" thus be fitted! " And Rodney, honoured sir, would grin To see you turning deadeyes in, Not wp^ as in the ancient way, But downwards, like a cutter's stay — You didn't oughter ; Besides, in seizing shrouds on board. Breast backstays you have quite ignored; Great Rodney kept unto the last Breast backstays on topgallant mast — They make it tauter." Sir Blennerhasset " swifted in," Turned deadeyes up, and lent a fin To strip (as told by Jasper Knox) The iron capping from his blocks, Where there was any. Sir Blennerhasset does away With salvagees from maintop-stay ; And though it makes his sailors stare, He rigs breast backstays everywhere- In fact, too many. One morning, when the saucy craft Lay calmed, old Jasper toddled aft. " My mind misgives me, sir, that we Were wrong about that salvagee — I should restore it." " Good," said the captain, and that day Restored it to the maintop-stay. Well-practised sailors often make A much more serious mistake. And then ignore it. 296 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. Next day old Jasper came once more : " I think, sir, I was right before." Well, up the mast the sailors skipped, The salvagee was soon unshipped, And all were merry. Again a day, and Jasper came : " I p'r'aps deserve your honour's blame, I can't make up my mind," said he, " About that cursed salvagee — It's foolish — very. " On Monday night I could have sworn That maintop-stay it should adorn, On Tuesday morning I could swear That salvagee should not be there. The knot's a rasper!" " Oh, you be hanged," said Captain P., " Here, go ashore at Caribbee. Get out — good bye — shove off — all right!" Old Jasper soon was out of sight — Farewell, old Jasper! THE FAIEY CUEATB. Once a fairy Light and airy Married with a mortal; Men, however Never, never Pass the fairy portal. Slyly stealing, She to Ealing Made a daily journey ; There she found him Clients round him (He was an attorney). Long they tarried, Then they married. When the ceremony Once was ended, Off they wended On their moon of honey. Twelvemonth, maybe, Saw a baby (Friends performed an orgie). Much they prized him, And baptized him By the name of Georgia. Georgie grew up ; Then he flew up To his fairy mother. Happy meeting — Pleasant greeting — Kissing one another. " Choose a calling 298 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, Most enthralling, I sincerely urge ye." "Mother," said he (Rev'rence made he), " I would join the clergy. " Give permission In addition — Pa will let me do it : He 's a-living In his giving. He '11 appoint me to it. Dreams of coff' ring Easter off' ring, Tithe and rent and pew-ratCj So inflame me (Do not blame me). That I '11 be a curate." She, with pleasure. Said, " My treasure, T is my wish precisely. Do your duty, There's a beauty; You have chosen wisely. Tell your father I would rather As a churchman rank you. You, in clover, I '11 watch over." Georgie said, "Oh, thank you!" Georgie scudded. Went and studied. Made all preparations, And with credit (Though he said it) Passed examinations. (Do not quarrel With him, moral, Scrupulous digestions — 'T was his mother. And no other, Answered all his questions.) THE FAIR V CUR A TE. 299 Time proceeded ; Little needed Georgie admonition: He, elated, Vindicated Clergyman's position. People round him Always found him Plain and unpretending ; Kindly teachings Plainly preaching — All his money lending. So the fairy, Wise and wary, Felt no sorrow rising- No occasion For persuasion, Warning, or advising. He, resuming Fairy pluming (That 's not English, is it ?) Oft would fly up, To the sky up, Pay mamma a visit. Time progressing, Georgie's blessing Grew more ritualistic — Popish scandals, Tonsures — sandals- Genuflections mystic ; Gushing meetings — Bosom-beatings — Heavenly ecstatics — Broidered spencers — Copes and censers — ■ Rochets and dalmatics. This quandary Vexed the fairy — Flew she down to Ealing. " GJeorgie, stop it ! ?oo THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, Pray you, drop it ; Hark to my appealing : To this foolish Papal rule-ish Twaddle put an ending ; This a swerve is From our Service Plain and unpretending." He, replying, Answered, sighing, Hawing, hemming, humming, " It 's a pity — They 're so pritty ; Yet in mode becoming, Mother tender, I '11 surrender — 1 11 be unaffected— " Then his Bishop Into Ms shop Entered unexpected I J THE FAIR Y CUR A TE. 301 " Who is this, sir, — Ballet miss, sir ?" Said the Bishop coldly. " 'T is my mother, And no other,"' Georgie answered boldly, ** Go along, sir ! You are wrong, sir ; You have years in plenty, While this hussy (Gracious mussy ! ) f an't two-and-twenty ! ' (Fairies clever Never, never Grow in visage older ; And the fairy. All unwary, Leant upon his shoulder !) Bishop grieved him, Disbelieved him ; ^orge the point grew warm on; Changed religion Like a pigeon, And became a Mormon ! HONGREE AND MAHRY, {A Transpontine Romatice.) The sun was setting in its wonted west, When Hongree, Sub-Liieutenant of Chassoores. Met Mahry Daubigny, the Village Rose, Under the Wizard's Oak — old trysting-place Of those who loved in rosy A(^uitaine. HONGREE AND MAHRY. 303 They thought themselves imwatched, but they j were not ; For Hongree, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores, Found in Lieutenant-Colonel Jooles Dubosc A rival, envious and unscrupulous, Who thought it not foul scorn to dodge his steps. And listen, unperceived, to all that passed Between the simple little Village Rose And Hongree, Sub-Lieutenant of Chas* soores. A clumsy barrack-bully was Dubosc, Quite unfamiliar with the well-bred, tact That animates a proper gentleman In dealing with a girl of humble rank. You'll understand his coarseness when I say He would have married Mahry Daubigny, And dragged the unsophisticated girl Into the whirl of fashionable life, For which her singularly rustic ways. Her breeding (moral, but extremely rude), Her language (chaste, but ungrammatical) Would absolutely have unfitted her. How different to this unreflecting boor Was Hongree, Sub-Lieutenant of Chas- soores ! Contemporary with the incident Related in our opening paragraph, Was that sad war 'twixt Gallia and our* selves That followed on the treaty signed at Troyes ; And so Lieutenant-Colonel Jules Dubosc (Brave soldier, he, with all his faults of style) And Hongree, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores, Were sent by Charles of France against the lines Of our Sixth Henry (Fourteen twenty-nine). To drive his legions out of Aquitaine. Wlien Hongree, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoorep Returned, suspecting nothing, to his camp, After his meeting with the Village Rose, He found inside his barrack letter-box A note from the commanding officer, Requiring his attendance at head-quarters. 304 THE *'BAB'* BALLADS, ^ai He went, and found Lieutenant-Colonel Jooles. "Young Hongree, Siib-Lieutenant of Chassoores, This night we shall attack the English camp : Be the ' forlorn hope ' yours — you '11 lead it, sir, And lead it too with credit, I 've no doubt " (These last words with a cruelly obvious sneer). " As every man must certainly be killed (For you are twenty 'gainst two thousand men), It is not likely that you will return. But what of that ? you '11 have the benefit Of knowing that you die a soldier's death." Obedience was young Hongree's strongest But he imagined that he only owed [point, Allegiance to his Mahry and his King. *' If Mahry bade me lead these fated men, I 'd lead them — but I do not think she would. If Charles, my King, said, 'Go, my son, and die,' I 'd go, of course — my duty would be clear. But Mahry is in bed asleep, 1 hope. And Charles, my King, three hundred league from this. HONG REE AND MAHRY, 305 As for Lieutenant- Colonel Jules Dubosc, How know I that our monarch would approve The order he has given me to-night ? My King I Ve sworn in all things to obey— I '11 only take my orders from my King ! " Thus Hongree, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores, Interpreted the terms of his commission. And Hongree, who was wise as he was good, Disguised himself that night in ample cloak, Round flapping hat, and vizor mask of black, And made, unnoticed, for the English camp. He passed the unsuspecting sentinels (Who little thought a man in this disguise Could be a proper object of suspicion), And ere the curfew bell had boomed " lights out,' He found in audience Bedford's haughty Duke. "Your Grace," he said, "start not— be not alarmed Although a Frenchman stands before your eyes. I 'm Hongree, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores. My colonel will attack your camp to-night, And orders me to lead the hope forlorn. Now I am sure our excellent King Charles Would not approve of this ; but he 's away A hundred leagues, and rather more than that. 3o6 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. So, utterly devoted to my King, Blinded by my attachment to the throne, And having but its interest at heart, I feel it is my duty to disclose All schemes that emanate from Colonel Jooles, If I believe that they are not the kind Of schemes that our good monarch could approve." "But how," said Bedford's Duke, "do you propose That we should overthrow your colonel's scheme ?" And Hongree, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores, Replied at once with never-failing tact : ** Oh, sir, I know this cursed country well. Entrust yourself and all your host to me ; I '11 lead you safely by a secret path Into the heart of Colonel Jooles' array. And you can then attack them unprepared, And slay my fellow-countrymen unarmed." The thing was done. The Duke of Bedford gave The order, and two thousand fighting-men Crept silently into the Gallic camp. And slew the Frenchmen as they lay asleep ; And Bedford's haughty Duke slew Colonel Jooles, And married Mahry, pride of Aquitaine, To Hongree, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores. THE WAY OF WOOINa. A MAIDEN sat at her window wide, Pretty enough for a prince's bride, Yet nobody came to claim her. She sat like a beautiful picture there With pretty bluebells and roses fair And jasmine leaves to frame her And why she sat there nobody knows ; But thus she sang as she plucked a rose, The leaves around her strewing : " I 've time to lose and power to choose ; 'T is not so much the gallant who woos But the gallant's way of wooing ! " A lover came riding by awhile, A wealthy lover was he, whose smile 3o8 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. Some maids would value greatly — A formal lover, who bowed and bent, With many a high-flown compliment. And cold demeanour stately. ** You Ve still," said she to her suitor stern, ** The 'prentice- work of your craft to leam. ^jr. V, If thus you come a-cooing. I 've time to lose and power to choose ; T is not so much the gallant who woes As the gallant's way of wooing !" A second lover came ambling by — A timid lad with a frightened eye, And a colour mantling highly. He muttered the errand on which he 'd come, Then only chuckled and bit his thumb, And simpered, simpered shyly. " No," said the maiden, " go your way, You dare but think what a man would say, THE WA r 01^ W0011\ in. ^^ Yet dare to come a-sueing! I've time to lose and power to choose ; 'T is not so much the gallant who woes As the gallant's way of wooing 1" A third rode up at a startling pace — A suitor poor, with a homely face — No doubts appeared to bind him. He kissed her lips and he pressed her waist, And off he rode with the maiden, placed On a pillion safe behind him. And she heard the suitor bold confide This golden hint to the priest who tied The knot there 's no undoing : • With pretty young maidens wlio can choose. 'T is not so much the gallant who woos As the gallant's way of wooing!" Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: April 2009 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 111 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 1 6066 (724)779-2111 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 014 492 156 2 ^