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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 Chassoores.

Contemporary with the incident
Related in our opening paragraph,

Was that sad war 'twixt Gallia and ourselves
That followed on the treaty signed at Troyes;

And so LIEUTENANT-COLONEL JOOLES 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.

When HONGREE, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores,
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.

He went, and found LIEUTENANT-COLONEL JOOLES.
"Young HONGREE, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores,

This night we shall attack the English camp:
Be the 'forlorn hope' yours - you'll lead it, sir,

And lead it too with credit, I've no doubt.
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'll have the benefit
Of knowing that you die a soldier's death."

Obedience was young HONGREE'S strongest point,
But he imagined that he only owed

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, I hope,

And CHARLES, my King, a hundred leagues from this.
As for LIEUTENANT-COLONEL JOOLES 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'll 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.
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 would 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'll 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 gave fair MAHRY, pride of Aquitaine,

To HONGREE, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores.
Ballad: ETIQUETTE. (15)

THE BALLYSHANNON foundered off the coast of Cariboo,
And down in fathoms many went the captain and the crew;

Down went the owners - greedy men whom hope of gain allured:
Oh, dry the starting tear, for they were heavily insured.

Besides the captain and the mate, the owners and the crew,
The passengers were also drowned excepting only two:

Young PETER GRAY, who tasted teas for BAKER, CROOP, AND CO.,
And SOMERS, who from Eastern shores imported indigo.

These passengers, by reason of their clinging to a mast,
Upon a desert island were eventually cast.

They hunted for their meals, as ALEXANDER SELKIRK used,
But they couldn't chat together - they had not been introduced.

For PETER GRAY, and SOMERS too, though certainly in trade,
Were properly particular about the friends they made;

And somehow thus they settled it without a word of mouth -
That GRAY should take the northern half, while SOMERS took the

south.
On PETER'S portion oysters grew - a delicacy rare,

But oysters were a delicacy PETER couldn't bear.
On SOMERS' side was turtle, on the shingle lying thick,

Which SOMERS couldn't eat, because it always made him sick.
GRAY gnashed his teeth with envy as he saw a mighty store

Of turtle unmolested on his fellow-creature's shore.
The oysters at his feet aside impatiently he shoved,

For turtle and his mother were the only things he loved.
And SOMERS sighed in sorrow as he settled in the south,

For the thought of PETER'S oysters brought the water to his mouth.
He longed to lay him down upon the shelly bed, and stuff:

He had often eaten oysters, but had never had enough.
How they wished an introduction to each other they had had

When on board the BALLYSHANNON! And it drove them nearly mad
To think how very friendly with each other they might get,

If it wasn't for the arbitrary rule of etiquette!
One day, when out a-hunting for the MUS RIDICULUS,

GRAY overheard his fellow-man soliloquizing thus:
"I wonder how the playmates of my youth are getting on,

M'CONNELL, S. B. WALTERS, PADDY BYLES, and ROBINSON?"
These simple words made PETER as delighted as could be,

Old chummies at the Charterhouse were ROBINSON and he!
He walked straight up to SOMERS, then he turned extremely red,

Hesitated, hummed and hawed a bit, then cleared his throat, and
said:

I beg your pardon - pray forgive me if I seem too bold,
But you have breathed a name I knew familiarly of old.

You spoke aloud of ROBINSON - I happened to be by.
You know him?" "Yes, extremely well." "Allow me, so do I."

It was enough: they felt they could more pleasantly get on,
For (ah, the magic of the fact!) they each knew ROBINSON!

And Mr. SOMERS' turtle was at PETER'S service quite,
And Mr. SOMERS punished PETER'S oyster-beds all night.

They soon became like brothers from community of wrongs:
They wrote each other little odes and sang each other songs;

They told each other anecdotes disparaging their wives;
On several occasions, too, they saved each other's lives.

They felt quite melancholy when they parted for the night,
And got up in the morning soon as ever it was light;

Each other's pleasant company they reckoned so upon,
And all because it happened that they both knew ROBINSON!

They lived for many years on that inhospitable shore,
And day by day they learned to love each other more and more.

At last, to their astonishment, on getting up one day,
They saw a frigate anchored in the offing of the bay.

To PETER an idea occurred. "Suppose we cross the main?
So good an opportunity may not be found again."

And SOMERS thought a minute, then ejaculated, "Done!
I wonder how my business in the City's getting on?"

"But stay," said Mr. PETER: "when in England, as you know,
I earned a living tasting teas for BAKER, CROOP, AND CO.,

I may be superseded - my employers think me dead!"
"Then come with me," said SOMERS, "and taste indigo instead."

But all their plans were scattered in a moment when they found
The vessel was a convict ship from Portland, outward bound;

When a boat came off to fetch them, though they felt it very kind,
To go on board they firmly but respectfully declined.

As both the happy settlers roared with laughter at the joke,
They recognized a gentlemanly fellow pulling stroke:

'Twas ROBINSON - a convict, in an unbecoming frock!
Condemned to seven years for misappropriating stock!!!

They laughed no more, for SOMERS thought he had been rather rash
In knowing one whose friend had misappropriated cash;

And PETER thought a foolish tack he must have gone upon
In making the acquaintance of a friend of ROBINSON.

At first they didn't quarrel very openly, I've heard;
They nodded when they met, and now and then exchanged a word:

The word grew rare, and rarer still the nodding of the head,
And when they meet each other now, they cut each other dead.

To allocate the island they agreed by word of mouth,
And PETER takes the north again, and SOMERS takes the south;

And PETER has the oysters, which he hates, in layers thick,
And SOMERS has the turtle - turtle always makes him sick.

Ballad: AT A PANTOMIME. BY A BILIOUS ONE.
AN Actor sits in doubtful gloom,

His stock-in-trade unfurled,
In a damp funereal dressing-room

In the Theatre Royal, World.
He comes to town at Christmas-time,

And braves its icy breath,
To play in that favourite pantomime,

HARLEQUIN LIFE AND DEATH.
A hoary flowing wig his weird

Unearthly cranium caps,
He hangs a long benevolent beard

On a pair of empty chaps.
To smooth his ghastly features down



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