The Book of Humorous Verse
Chapter 117 : The tear-drop in his little eye again began to spring, His bosom throbb'd with ag

The tear-drop in his little eye again began to spring, His bosom throbb'd with agony--he cried like any thing!

I stoop'd, and thus amidst his sobs I heard him murmur--"Ah I haven't got no supper! and I haven't got no Ma'!!--

"My father, he is on the seas,--my mother's dead and gone!

And I am here, on this here pier, to roam the world alone; I have not had, this live-long day, one drop to cheer my heart, Nor '_brown_' to buy a bit of bread with,--let alone a tart.

"If there's a soul will give me food, or find me in employ, By day or night, then blow me tight!" (he was a vulgar Boy); "And now I'm here, from this here pier it is my fixed intent To jump, as Mr. Levi did from off the Monu-ment!"

"Cheer up! cheer up! my little man--cheer up!" I kindly said.

"You are a naughty boy to take such things into your head: If you should jump from off the pier, you'd surely break your legs, Perhaps your neck--then Bogey'd have you, sure as eggs are eggs!

"Come home with me, my little man, come home with me and sup; My landlady is Mrs. Jones--we must not keep her up-- There's roast potatoes on the fire,--enough for me and you-- Come home,--you little vulgar Boy--I lodge at Number 2."

I took him home to Number 2, the house beside "The Foy,"

I bade him wipe his dirty shoes,--that little vulgar Boy,-- And then I said to Mistress Jones, the kindest of her s.e.x, "Pray be so good as go and fetch a pint of double X!"

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 ap.r.o.n 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 s.h.i.+lling--(which in town the people call "a Bob")-- It was not so much for myself as for that vulgar child-- And I said, "A pint of double X, and please to draw it 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 peep'd beneath the table-cloth--beneath the sofa too-- I said "You little vulgar Boy! why what's become of you?"

I could not see my table-spoons--I look'd, but could not see The little fiddle-pattern'd ones I use when I'm at tea; --I could not see my sugar-tongs--my silver watch--oh, dear!

I know 'twas on the mantle-piece when I went out for beer.

I could not see my Mackintos.h.!.+--it was not to be seen!

Nor yet my best white beaver hat, broad-brimm'd and lined 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 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, "And sarve you right!!"

Next morning I was up betimes--I sent the Crier round, All with his bell and gold-laced hat, to say I'd give a pound To find that little vulgar Boy, who'd gone and used me so; But when the Crier cried "O Yes!" the people cried, "O No!"

I went to "Jarvis' Landing-place," the glory of the town, There was a common sailor-man a-walking up and down; I told my tale--he seem'd to think I'd not been treated well, And called me "Poor old Buffer!" what that means I cannot tell.

That sailor-man, he said he'd seen that morning on the sh.o.r.e, 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 queer-- And 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, And they were now, as he supposed, "some_wheres_" about the Nore.

A landsman said, "I _twig_ the chap--he's been upon the Mill-- And '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; He asked me if "I did not wish that I might get it back?"

I answered, "To be sure I do!--it's what I come about."

He smiled and said, "Sir, does your mother know that you are out?"

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 Lords.h.i.+p 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!"

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, Snug by his parlor-fire a gouty wight Sat all alone, with one hand rubbing His feet, rolled up in fleecy hose: While t'other held beneath his nose The _Public Ledger_, in whose columns grubbing, He noted all the sales of hops, s.h.i.+ps, shops, and slops; 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 pa.s.sing 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!

a.s.suredly, that fellow's throat is Doomed to a final drop at Newgate: He knows, too (the unconscionable elf!), That there's no soul at home except myself."

"Indeed," replied the stranger (looking grave), "Then he's a double knave; 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, Blow out your candles--_thus_--and _thus_-- Pocket your silver candlesticks, And--walk off--_thus_!"-- So said, so done; he made no more remark Nor waited for replies, 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."