There's roast potatoes on the fire,-enough for me and youCome home,-you little vulgar Boy-I lodge at Number 2.” I took him home to Number 2, the house beside "The Foy," But Mrs. Jones was rather cross, she made a little noise, She said she "did not like to wait on little vulgar Boys." She with her apron wiped the plates, and, as she rubb'd the delf, Said I might "go to Jericho, and fetch my beer myself!" I did not go to Jericho I went to Mr. Cobb I changed a shilling-(which in town the people call "a Bob") It was not so much for myself as for that vulgar child- And I said, mild!" When I came back I gazed about-I gazed on stool and chair I could not see my little friend-because he was not there! I could not see my table-spoons-I look'd, but could not see I know 'twas on the mantle-piece when I went out for beer. I could not see my Mackintosh!-it was not to be seen! with green; My carpet-bag-my cruet-stand, that holds my sauce and soy, My roast potatoes!-all are gone!-and so's that vulgar Boy! I Misadventures at Margate 561 I rang the bell for Mrs. Jones, for she was down below, "Oh, Mrs. Jones! what do you think?-ain't this a pretty go? -That horrid little vulgar Boy whom I brought here to night, -He's stolen my things and run away!!"-Says she, 66 And sarve you right!!" Next morning I was up betimes-I sent the Crier round, I went to "Jarvis' Landing-place," the glory of the town, tell. That sailor-man, he said he'd seen that morning on the shore, A son of-something-'twas a name I'd never heard before, A little "gallows-looking chap"-dear me; what could he mean? With a "carpet-swab " and " muckingtogs," and a hat turned up with green. He spoke about his "precious eyes," and said he'd seen him "sheer," -It's very odd that sailor-men should talk so very queerAnd then he hitch'd his trowsers up, as is, I'm told, their use, -It's very odd that sailor-men should wear those things so loose. I did not understand him well, but think he meant to say He'd seen that little vulgar Boy, that morning swim away In Captain Large's Royal George about an hour before, A landsman said, "I twig the chap-he's been upon the MillAnd 'cause he gammons so the flats, ve calls him Veeping Bill!" He said "he'd done me wery brown," and "nicely stow'd the swag." -That's French, I fancy, for a hat-or else a carpet-bag. I went and told the constable my property to track; Not knowing what to do, I thought I'd hasten back to town, And beg our own Lord Mayor to catch the Boy who'd "done me brown." His Lordship very kindly said he'd try and find him out, But he "rather thought that there were several vulgar boys about." He sent for Mr. Whithair then, and I described "the swag," My Mackintosh, my sugar-tongs, my spoons, and carpet-bag; He promised that the New Police should all their powers employ; But never to this hour have I beheld that vulgar Boy! MORAL Remember, then, what when a boy I've heard my Grandma' tell, "BE WARN'D IN TIME BY OTHERS' HARM, AND YOU SHALL DO FULL WELL!" Don't link yourself with vulgar folks, who've got no fix'd abode, Tell lies, use naughty words, and say they "wish they may be blow'd!" The Gouty Merchant and the Stranger 563 Don't take too much of double X!-and don't at night go out To fetch your beer yourself, but make the pot-boy bring your stout! And when you go to Margate next, just stop and ring the bell, Give my respects to Mrs. Jones, and say I'm pretty well! Richard Harris Barham. THE GOUTY MERCHANT AND THE STRANGER IN Broad Street Buildings on a winter night, The Public Ledger, in whose columns grubbing, Gum, galls, and groceries; ginger, gin, Tar, tallow, turmeric, turpentine, and tin; When lo! a decent personage in black Entered and most politely said: "Your footman, sir, has gone his nightly track To the King's Head, And left your door ajar; which I Observed in passing by, And thought it neighborly to give you notice." "Ten thousand thanks; how very few get, In time of danger, Such kind attentions from a stranger! He knows, too (the unconscionable elf!), He knows that rogues and thieves by scores Nightly beset unguarded doors: And see, how easily might one Of these domestic foes, Even beneath your very nose, Perform his knavish tricks; Enter your room, as I have done, And-walk off-thus!" So said, so done; he made no more remark But marched off with his prize, Leaving the gouty merchant in the dark. Horace Smith. THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN SHOWING HOW HE WENT FARTHER THAN HE INTENDED AND CAME SAFE HOME AGAIN JOHN GILPIN was a citizen of credit and renown; A train-band captain eke was he, of famous London town. John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear-" Though wedded we have been These twice ten tedious years, yet we no holiday have seen. "To-morrow is our wedding-day, and we will then repair Unto the Bell at Edmonton all in a chaise and pair. "My sister, and my sister's child, myself, and children three, Will fill the chaise; so you must ride on horseback after we." He soon replied, "I do admire of womankind but one, And you are she, my dearest dear; therefore it shall be done. "I am a linendraper bold, as all the world doth know; And my good friend, the calender, will lend his horse to go." |