Chapter 4
SHE. Gentle sir, my heart is frolicsome and free-- (Hey but he's doleful, willow, willow waly!) Nobody I care for comes a-courting me-- Hey, willow waly O! Nobody I care for Comes a-courting--therefore, Hey, willow waly O!
HE. Prithee, pretty maiden, will you marry me? (Hey, but I'm hopeful, willow, willow waly!) I may say, at once, I'm a man of propertee Hey, willow waly O! Money, I despise it, But many people prize it, Hey, willow waly O!
SHE. Gentle sir, although to marry I design-- (Hey, but I'm hopeful, willow, willow waly!) As yet I do not know you, and so I must decline. Hey, willow waly O! To other maidens go you-- As yet I do not know you, Hey, willow waly O!
THE USHER'S CHARGE.
Now, Jurymen, hear my advice-- All kinds of vulgar prejudice I pray you set aside: With stern judicial frame of mind, From bias free of every kind, This trial must be tried!
Oh, listen to the plaintiff's case: Observe the features of her face-- The broken-hearted bride! Condole with her distress of mind: From bias free of every kind, This trial must be tried!
And when amid the plaintiff's shrieks, The ruffianly defendant speaks-- Upon the other side; What _he_ may say you needn't mind-- From bias free of every kind, This trial must be tried!
KING GOODHEART.
There lived a King, as I've been told, In the wonder-working days of old, When hearts were twice as good as gold, And twenty times as mellow. Good temper triumphed in his face, And in his heart he found a place For all the erring human race And every wretched fellow. When he had Rhenish wine to drink It made him very sad to think That some, at junket or at jink, Must be content with toddy. He wished all men as rich as he (And he was rich as rich could be), So to the top of every tree Promoted everybody.
Ambassadors cropped up like hay, Prime Ministers and such as they Grew like asparagus in May, And Dukes were three a penny. Lord Chancellors were cheap as sprats. And Bishops in their shovel hats Were plentiful as tabby cats-- If possible, too many. On every side Field-Marshals gleamed, Small beer were Lords Lieutenant deemed With Admirals the ocean teemed All round his wide dominions; And Party Leaders you might meet In twos and threes in every street Maintaining, with no little heat, Their various opinions.
That King, although no one denies His heart was of abnormal size, Yet he'd have acted otherwise If he had been acuter. The end is easily foretold, When every blessed thing you hold Is made of silver, or of gold, You long for simple pewter. When you have nothing else to wear But cloth of gold and satins rare, For cloth of gold you cease to care-- Up goes the price of shoddy. In short, whoever you may be, To this conclusion you'll agree, When every one is somebodee, Then no one's anybody!
THE TANGLED SKEIN.
Try we life long, we can never Straighten out life's tangled skein, Why should we, in vain endeavor, Guess and guess and guess again? Life's a pudding full of plums; Care's a canker that benumbs. Wherefore waste our elocution On impossible solution? Life's a pleasant institution, Let us take it as it comes!
Set aside the dull enigma, We shall guess it all too soon; Failure brings no kind of stigma-- Dance we to another tune! String the lyre and fill the cup, Lest on sorrow we should sup. Hop and skip to Fancy's fiddle, Hands across and down the middle-- Life's perhaps the only riddle That we shrink from giving up!
GIRL GRADUATES.
They intend to send a wire To the moon; And they'll set the Thames on fire Very soon; Then they learn to make silk purses With their rigs From the ears of Lady Circe's Piggy-wigs. And weazels at their slumbers They'll trepan; To get sunbeams from cu_cum_bers They've a plan. They've a firmly rooted notion They can cross the Polar Ocean, And they'll find Perpetual Motion If they can!
These are the phenomena That every pretty domina Hopes that we shall see At this Universitee!
As for fashion, they forswear it, So they say, And the circle--they will square it Some fine day; Then the little pigs they're teaching For to fly; And the niggers they'll be bleaching Bye and bye! Each newly joined aspirant To the clan Must repudiate the tyrant Known as Man; They mock at him and flout him, For they do not care about him, And they're "going to do without him" If they can!
These are the phenomena That every pretty domina Hopes that we shall see At this Universitee!
THE APE AND THE LADY.
A lady fair, of lineage high, Was loved by an Ape, in the days gone by-- The Maid was radiant as the sun, The Ape was a most unsightly one-- So it would not do-- His scheme fell through; For the Maid, when his love took formal shape, Expressed such terror At his monstrous error, That he stammered an apology and made his 'scape, The picture of a disconcerted Ape.
With a view to rise in the social scale, He shaved his bristles, and he docked his tail, He grew moustachios, and he took his tub, And he paid a guinea to a toilet club. But it would not do, The scheme fell through-- For the Maid was Beauty's fairest Queen With golden tresses, Like a real princess's, While the Ape, despite his razor keen, Was the apiest Ape that ever was seen!
He bought white ties, and he bought dress suits, He crammed his feet into bright tight boots, And to start his life on a brand-new plan, He christened himself Darwinian Man! But it would not do. The scheme fell through-- For the Maiden fair, whom the monkey craved, Was a radiant Being, With a brain far-seeing-- While a Man, however well-behaved, At best is only a monkey shaved!
SANS SOUCI
I cannot tell what this love may be That cometh to all but not to me. It cannot be kind as they'd imply, Or why do these gentle ladies sigh? It cannot be joy and rapture deep, Or why do these gentle ladies weep? It cannot be blissful, as 'tis said, Or why are their eyes so wondrous red?
If love is a thorn, they show no wit Who foolishly hug and foster it. If love is a weed, how simple they Who gather and gather it, day by day! If love is a nettle that makes you smart, Why do you wear it next your heart? And if it be neither of these, say I, Why do you sit and sob and sigh?
THE BRITISH TAR.
A British tar is a soaring soul, As free as a mountain bird, His energetic fist should be ready to resist A dictatorial word His nose should pant and his lips should curl, His cheeks should flame and his brow should furl, His bosom should heave and his heart should glow, And his fist be ever ready for a knock-down blow.
His eyes should flash with an inborn fire, His brow with scorn be rung; He never should bow down to a domineering frown, Or the tang of a tyrant tongue. His foot should stamp and his throat should growl, His hair should twirl and his face should scowl: His eyes should flash and his breast protrude, And this should be his customary attitude!
THE COMING BYE AND BYE.
Sad is that woman's lot who, year by year, Sees, one by one, her beauties disappear; As Time, grown weary of her heart-drawn sighs, Impatiently begins to "dim her eyes!" Herself compelled, in life's uncertain gloamings, To wreathe her wrinkled brow with well saved "combings"-- Reduced, with rouge, lipsalve, and pearly grey, To "make up" for lost time, as best she may!
Silvered is the raven hair, Spreading is the parting straight, Mottled the complexion fair, Halting is the youthful gait. Hollow is the laughter free, Spectacled the limpid eye, Little will be left of me, In the coming bye and bye!
Fading is the taper waist-- Shapeless grows the shapely limb, And although securely laced, Spreading is the figure trim! Stouter than I used to be, Still more corpulent grow I-- There will be too much of me In the coming bye and bye!
THE SORCERER'S SONG.
Oh! my name is John Wellington Wells-- I'm a dealer in magic and spells, In blessings and curses, And ever filled purses, In prophecies, witches and knells! If you want a proud foe to "make tracks"-- If you'd melt a rich uncle in wax-- You've but to look in On our resident Djinn, Number seventy, Simmery Axe.
We've a first class assortment of magic; And for raising a posthumous shade With effects that are comic or tragic, There's no cheaper house in the trade. Love-philtre--we've quantities of it; And for knowledge if any one burns, We keep an extremely small prophet, a prophet Who brings us unbounded returns: For he can prophesy With a wink _of_ his eye, Peep with security Into futurity, Sum up your history, Clear up a mystery, Humor proclivity For a nativity. With mirrors so magical, Tetrapods tragical, Bogies spectacular, Answers oracular, Facts astronomical, Solemn or comical, And, if you want it, he Makes a reduction on taking a quantity! Oh! If any one anything lacks, He'll find it all ready in stacks, If he'll only look in On the resident Djinn, Number seventy, Simmery Axe!
He can raise you hosts Of ghosts, And that without reflectors; And creepy things With wings, And gaunt and grisly spectres! He can fill you crowds Of shrouds, And horrify you vastly; He can rack your brains With chains, And gibberings grim and ghastly. Then, if you plan it, he Changes organity, With an urbanity, Full of Satanity, Vexes humanity With an inanity Fatal to vanity-- Driving your foes to the verge of insanity! Barring tautology, In demonology, 'Lectro biology, Mystic nosology, Spirit philology, High class astrology, Such is his knowledge, he Isn't the man to require an apology! Oh! My name is John Wellington Wells, I'm a dealer in magic and spells, In blessings and curses, And ever filled purses In prophecies, witches and knells! If any one anything lacks, He'll find it all ready in stacks, If he'll only look in On the resident Djinn, Number seventy, Simmery Axe!
SPECULATION.
Comes a train of little ladies From scholastic trammels free, Each a little bit afraid is, Wondering what the world can be!
Is it but a world of trouble-- Sadness set to song? Is its beauty but a bubble Bound to break ere long?
Are its palaces and pleasures Fantasies that fade? And the glories of its treasures Shadow of a shade?
Schoolgirls we, eighteen and under, From scholastic trammels free, And we wonder--how we wonder!-- What on earth the world can be!
THE DUKE OF PLAZA-TORO.
In enterprise of martial kind, When there was any fighting, He led his regiment from behind, He found it less exciting. But when away his regiment ran, His place was at the fore, O-- That celebrated, Cultivated, Underrated Nobleman, The Duke of Plaza-Toro! In the first and foremost flight, ha, ha! You always found that knight, ha, ha! That celebrated, Cultivated, Underrated Nobleman, The Duke of Plaza-Toro!
When, to evade Destruction's hand, To hide they all proceeded, No soldier in that gallant band Hid half as well as he did. He lay concealed throughout the war, And so preserved his gore, O! That unaffected, Undetected, Well connected Warrior, The Duke of Plaza-Toro! In every doughty deed, ha ha! He always took the lead, ha ha! That unaffected, Undetected, Well connected Warrior, The Duke of Plaza-Toro!
When told that they would all be shot Unless they left the service, The hero hesitated not, So marvellous his nerve is. He sent his resignation in, The first of all his corps, O! That very knowing, Overflowing, Easy-going Paladin, The Duke of Plaza-Toro! To men of grosser clay, ha, ha! He always showed the way, ha, ha! That very knowing, Overflowing, Easy-going Paladin, The Duke of Plaza-Toro!
THE REWARD OF MERIT.
Dr. Belville was regarded as the Crichton of his age: His tragedies were reckoned much too thoughtful for the stage; His poems held a noble rank, although it's very true That, being very proper, they were read by very few. He was a famous Painter, too, and shone upon the "line," And even Mr. Ruskin came and worshipped at his shrine; But, alas, the school he followed was heroically high-- The kind of Art men rave about, but very seldom buy-- And everybody said "How can he be repaid-- This very great--this very good--this very gifted man?" But nobody could hit upon a practicable plan!
He was a great Inventor, and discovered, all alone, A plan for making everybody's fortune but his own; For, in business, an Inventor's little better than a fool, And my highly gifted friend was no exception to the rule. His poems--people read them in the Quarterly Reviews-- His pictures--they engraved them in the _Illustrated News_-- His inventions--they, perhaps, might have enriched him by degrees, But all his little income went in Patent Office fees; And everybody said "How can he be repaid-- This very great--this very good--this very gifted man?" But nobody could hit upon a practicable plan!
At last the point was given up in absolute despair, When a distant cousin died, and he became a millionaire, With a county seat in Parliament, a moor or two of grouse, And a taste for making inconvenient speeches in the House! _Then_ it flashed upon Britannia that the fittest of rewards Was, to take him from the Commons and to put him in the Lords! And who so fit to sit in it, deny it if you can, As this very great--this very good--this very gifted man? (Though I'm more than half afraid That it sometimes may be said That we never should have revelled in that source of proper pride, However great his merits--if his cousin hadn't died!)
WHEN I FIRST PUT THIS UNIFORM ON.
When I first put this uniform on, I said as I looked in the glass. "It's one to a million That any civilian My figure and form will surpass. Gold lace has a charm for the fair, And I've plenty of that, and to spare, While a lover's professions, When uttered in Hessians, Are eloquent everywhere! A fact that I counted upon, When I first put this uniform on!"
I said, when I first put it on, "It is plain to the veriest dunce That every beauty Will feel it her duty To yield to its glamor at once. They will see that I'm freely gold-laced In a uniform handsome and chaste-- But the peripatetics Of long-haired aesthetics, Are very much more to their taste-- Which I never counted upon When I first put this uniform on!"
SAID I TO MYSELF, SAID I.
When I went to the Bar as a very young man, (Said I to myself--said I), I'll work on a new and original plan (Said I to myself--said I), I'll never assume that a rogue or a thief Is a gentleman worthy implicit belief, Because his attorney has sent me a brief (Said I to myself--said I!).
I'll never throw dust in a juryman's eyes (Said I to myself--said I), Or hoodwink a judge who is not over-wise (Said I to myself--said I), Or assume that the witnesses summoned in force In Exchequer, Queen's Bench, Common Pleas, or Divorce, Have perjured themselves as a matter of course (Said I to myself--said I).
Ere I go into court I will read my brief through (Said I to myself--said I), And I'll never take work I'm unable to do (Said I to myself--said I). My learned profession I'll never disgrace By taking a fee with a grin on my face, When I haven't been there to attend to the case (Said I to myself--said I!).
In other professions in which men engage (Said I to myself--said I), The Army, the Navy, the Church, and the Stage (Said I to myself--said I), Professional license, if carried too far, Your chance of promotion will certainly mar And I fancy the rule might apply to the Bar (Said I to myself--said I!).
THE FAMILY FOOL.
Oh! a private buffoon is a light-hearted loon, If you listen to popular rumor; From morning to night he's so joyous and bright, And he bubbles with wit and good-humor! He's so quaint and so terse, both in prose and in verse; Yet though people forgive his transgression, There are one or two rules that all Family Fools Must observe, if they love their profession. There are one or two rules Half a dozen, maybe, That all family fools, Of whatever degree, Must observe, if they love their profession.
If you wish to succeed as a jester, you'll need To consider each person auricular: What is all right for B would quite scandalize C (For C is so very particular); And D may be dull, and E's very thick skull Is as empty of brains as a ladle; While F is F sharp, and will cry with a carp, That he's known your best joke from his cradle! When your humor they flout, You can't let yourself go; And it _does_ put you out When a person says, "Oh! I have known that old joke from my cradle!"
If your master is surly, from getting up early (And tempers are short in the morning), An inopportune joke is enough to provoke Him to give you, at once, a month's warning Then if you refrain, he is at you again, For he likes to get value for money. He'll ask then and there, with an insolent stare, If you know that you're paid to be funny?" It adds to the task Of a merryman's place, When your principal asks, With a scowl on his face, If you know that you're paid to be funny?"
Comes a Bishop, maybe, or a solemn D.D.-- Oh, beware of his anger provoking! Better not pull his hair--don't stick pins in his chair; He don't understand practical joking. If the jests that you crack have an orthodox smack, You may get a bland smile from these sages; But should it, by chance, be imported from France, Half-a-crown is stopped out of your wages! It's a general rule, Though your zeal it may quench, If the Family Fool Makes a joke that's _too_ French, Half-a-crown is stopped out of his wages!
Though your head it may rack with a bilious attack, And your senses with toothache you're losing, Don't be mopy and flat--they don't fine you for that, If you're properly quaint and amusing! Though your wife ran away with a soldier that day, And took with her your trifle of money; Bless your heart, they don't mind--they're exceedingly kind-- They don't blame you--as long as you're funny! It's a comfort to feel If your partner should flit, Though _you_ suffer a deal, _They_ don't mind it a bit-- They don't blame you--so long as you're funny!
THE PHILOSOPHIC PILL.
I've wisdom from the East and from the West, That's subject to no academic rule: You may find it in the jeering of a jest, Or distil it from the folly of a fool. I can teach you with a quip, if I've a mind! I can trick you into learning with a laugh; Oh, winnow all my folly, and you'll find A grain or two of truth among the chaff!
I can set a braggart quailing with a quip, The upstart I can wither with a whim; He may wear a merry laugh upon his lip, But his laughter has an echo that is grim. When they're offered to the world in merry guise, Unpleasant truths are swallowed with a will-- For he who'd make his fellow creatures wise Should always gild the philosophic pill!
THE CONTEMPLATIVE SENTRY.
When all night long a chap remains On sentry-go, to chase monotony He exercises of his brains, That is, assuming that he's got any, Though never nurtured in the lap Of luxury, yet I admonish you, I am an intellectual chap, And think of things that would astonish you. I often think it's comical How Nature always does contrive That every boy and every gal That's born into the world alive Is either a little Liberal, Or else a little Conservative! Fal lal la!
When in that house M.P.'s divide, If they've a brain and cerebellum, too. They're got to leave that brain outside. And vote just as their leaders tell 'em to. But then the prospect of a lot Of statesmen, all in close proximity. A-thinking for themselves, is what No man can face with equanimity. Then let's rejoice with loud Fal lal That Nature wisely does contrive That every boy and every gal That's born into the world alive, Is either a little Liberal, Or else a little Conservative! Fal lal la!
SORRY HER LOT.
Sorry her lot who loves too well, Heavy the heart that hopes but vainly, Had are the sighs that own the spell Uttered by eyes that speak too plainly; Heavy the sorrow that bows the head When Love is alive and Hope is dead!
Sad is the hour when sets the Sun-- Dark is the night to Earth's poor daughters When to the ark the wearied one Flies from the empty waste of waters! Heavy the sorrow that bows the head When Love is alive and Hope is dead!
THE JUDGE'S SONG.
When I, good friends, was called to the Bar, I'd an appetite fresh and hearty, But I was, as many young barristers are, An impecunious party. I'd a swallow-tail coat of a beautiful blue-- A brief which I bought of a booby-- A couple of shirts and a collar or two, And a ring that looked like a ruby!
In Westminster Hall I danced a dance, Like a semi-despondent fury; For I thought I should never hit on a chance Of addressing a British Jury-- But I soon got tired of third class journeys, And dinners of bread and water; So I fell in love with a rich attorney's Elderly, ugly daughter.
The rich attorney, he wiped his eyes, And replied to my fond professions: "You shall reap the reward of your enterprise, At the Bailey and Middlesex Sessions. You'll soon get used to her looks," said he, "And a very nice girl you'll find her-- She may very well pass for forty-three In the dusk, with a light behind her!"
The rich attorney was as good as his word: The briefs came trooping gaily, And every day my voice was heard At the Sessions or Ancient Bailey. All thieves who could my fees afford Relied on my orations, And many a burglar I've restored To his friends and his relations.
At length I became as rich as the Gurneys-- An incubus then I thought her, So I threw over that rich attorney's Elderly, ugly daughter. The rich attorney my character high Tried vainly to disparage-- And now, if you please, I'm ready to try This Breach of Promise of Marriage!
TRUE DIFFIDENCE.