The Knight and the Lady

595

Thinks he, "We have sent

Half over Kent,

And nobody knows how much money's been spent,

Yet no one's been found to say which way he went!
Here's a fortnight and more has gone by, and we've tried
Every plan we could hit on-and had him well cried
'MISSING!! Stolen or Strayed,

Lost or Mislaid,

A GENTLEMAN;-middle-aged, sober and staid;
Stoops slightly;-and when he left home was arrayed
In a sad-colored suit, somewhat dingy and frayed;
Had spectacles on with a tortoise-shell rim,

And a hat rather low crowned, and broad in the brim.
Whoe'er shall bear,

Or send him with care,

(Right side uppermost) home; or shall give notice where Said middle-aged GENTLEMAN is; or shall state

Any fact, that may tend to throw light on his fate,

To the man at the turnpike, called Tappington Gate,
Shall receive a reward of Five Pounds for his trouble.
N.B. If defunct, the Reward will be double!!'

"Had he been above ground,

He must have been found.

No; doubtless he's shot-or he's hanged-or he's drowned! Then his widow-ay! ay!

But what will folks say?

To address her at once, at so early a day.

Well-what then-who cares!-let 'em say what they may." When a man has decided

As Captain MacBride did,

And once fully made up his mind on the matter, he

Can't be too prompt in unmasking his battery.

He began on the instant, and vowed that her eyes

Far exceeded in brilliance the stars in the skies;

That her lips were like roses, her cheeks were like lilies;

Her breath had the odor of daffadowndillies!—

With a thousand more compliments, equally true,

Expressed in similitudes equally new!

Then his left arm he placed

Round her jimp, taper waist

Ere she fixed to repulse or return his embrace,
Up came running a man at a deuce of a pace,
With that very peculiar expression of face

Which always betokens dismay or disaster,

Crying out 'twas the gard'ner-" Oh, ma'am! we've found master!!"

"Where! where?" screamed the lady; and echo screamed, "Where?"

The man couldn't say there!"

He had no breath to spare,

But gasping for breath he could only respond By pointing-he pointed, alas! TO THE POND. 'Twas c'en so; poor dear Knight, with his "

hat,

specs" and his

He'd gone poking his nose into this and to that;
When close to the side of the bank, he espied
An uncommon fine tadpole, remarkably fat!
He stooped; and he thought her

His own; he had caught her!

Got hold of her tail-and to land almost brought her,
When he plumped head and heels into fifteen feet water!

The Lady Jane was tall and slim,

The Lady Jane was fair,

Alas! for Sir Thomas!-she grieved for him,
As she saw two serving men sturdy of limb,
His body between them bear;

She sobbed and she sighed, she lamented and cried,

For of sorrow brimful was her cup;

She swooned, and I think she'd have fallen down and died, If Captain MacBride

Hadn't been by her side

With the gardener;-they both their assistance supplied,

And managed to hold her up.
But when she "comes to,"

Oh! 'tis shocking to view

The sight which the corpse reveals!
Sir Thomas' body,

It looked so odd-he

Was half eaten up by the eels!

The Knight and the Lady

597

His waistcoat and hose,

And the rest of his clothes,

Were all gnawed through and through;

And out of each shoe,

An eel they drew;

And from each of his pockets they pulled out two!
And the gardener himself had secreted a few,
As well might be supposed he'd do,

For, when he came running to give the alarm,
He had six in the basket that hung on his arm.

Good Father John was summoned anon;
Holy water was sprinkled and little bells tinkled,
And tapers were lighted,

And incense ignited,

And masses were sung, and masses were said,
All day, for the quiet repose of the dead,
And all night no one thought about going to bed.

But Lady Jane was tall and slim,

And Lady Jane was fair,

And ere morning came, that winsome dame

Had made up her mind, or-what's much the same-
Had thought about, once more "changing her name,"
And she said with a pensive air,

To Thompson the valet, while taking away,
When supper was over, the cloth and the tray,
"Eels a many I've ate; but any

So good ne'er tasted before!

They're a fish too, of which I'm remarkably fond-
Go-pop Sir Thomas again in the pond-
Poor dear!-he'll catch us some more."

MORAL

All middle-aged gentlemen let me advise,

If you're married, and hav'n't got very good eyes,
Don't go poking about after blue-bottle flies.

If you've spectacles, don't have a tortoise-shell rim,
And don't go near the water-unless you can swim.

Married ladies, especially such as are fair,

Tall and slim, I would next recommend to beware,
How, on losing one spouse, they give way to despair,
But let them reflect, there are fish, and no doubt on't,
As good in the river, as ever came out on't.

Richard Harris Barham.

AN EASTERN QUESTION

My William was a soldier, and he says to me, says he,
"My Susan, I must sail across the South Pacific sea;
For we've got to go to Egypt for to fight the old Khedive;
But when he's dead I'll marry you, as sure as I'm alive!"

'Twere hard for me to part with him; he couldn't read nor write,

So I never had love letters for to keep my memory bright; But Jim, who is our footman, took the Daily Telegraph, And told me William's reg-i-ment mowed down the foe like chaff.

So every day Jim come to me to read the Eastern news,
And used to bring me bouquets, which I scarcely could

refuse;

Till one fine day it happened-how it happened, goodness knows,

He put his arm around me and he started to propose.

I put his hand from off me, and I said in thrilling tones, "I like you, Jim, but never will I give up William Jones; It ain't no good your talking, for my heart is firm and fixed, For William is engaged to me, and naught shall come betwixt."

So Jim he turned a ghastly pale to find there was no hope;
And made remarks about a pond, and razors, and a rope;
The other servants pitied him, and Rosie said as much;
But Rosie was too flighty, and he didn't care for such.

An Eastern Question

599 The weeks and months passed slowly, till I heard the Eastern

war

Was over, and my William would soon be home once more;
And I was proud and happy for I knew that I could say
I'd been true to my sweet William all the years he'd been

away.

Says Jim to me, "I love you, Sue, you know full well I do,
And evermore whilst I draw breath I vow I will be true;
But my feelings are too sensitive, I really couldn't stand
A-seeing of that soldier taking hold your little hand.

"So I've made my mind up finally to throw myself away; There's Rosie loves me truly, and no more I'll say her nay; I've bought a hat on purpose, and I'm going to hire a ring, And I've borrowed father's wedding suit that looks the very thing."

So Jim he married Rosie, just the very day before

My William's reg-i-ment was due to reach their native shore; I was there to see him landed and to give him welcome home, And take him to my arms from which he never more should

roam.

But I couldn't see my William, for the men were all alike, With their red coats and their rifles, and their helmets with a spike;

So I curtseys to a sergeant who was smiling very kind, "Where's William Jones?" I asks him, "if so be you wouldn't mind?"

Then he calls a gawky, red-haired chap, that stood good sixfeet two:

"Here, Jones," he cries, "this lady here's enquiring after you."

"Not me!" I says, "I want a man who listed from our

Square;

With a small moustache, but growing fast, and bright brown curly hair."