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"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.

Ballad: 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 I 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).
Said JANE, with a smirk, and a blush on her face,

"I'll 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!
I'll 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 I 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).

But 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 constable fell 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 I 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 -

JOHN caught 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 I'VE 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).

Ballad: THE PERILS OF INVISIBILITY.
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."
"O little fairy PICKLEKIN,"

Old PETER answered with a grin,
"To hesitate would be absurd, -

Undoubtedly I choose the third."
"'Tis 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 word:
Old PETER vanished like a shot,

Put then - HIS SUIT OF CLOTHES DID NOT!
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; BUT COULD NOT FIND

HIS ONLY PAIR OF - never mind!
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 I'm referring to!"
But no; the cross old lady swore

She'd keep his - what I said before -
To make him publiclyabsurd;

And MRS. PETER kept her word.
The poor old fellow had no rest;

His coat, his stick, 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 leg;
Besides, until you do, it's plain

I cannot come to sight again!
"For though some mirth 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 the 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'll 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,

Resolved to train, and train, and train,
Until he weighs twelve stone' or so -

And when he does, I'll let you know.
Ballad: THE MYSTIC SELVAGEE.

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 -


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