More Bab Ballads Part 13

Some day in sunny Rum-ti-Foo A little PETER'll be on view; And that (if people tell me true) Is like to happen soon.

Ballad: A Worm Will Turn

I love a man who'll smile and joke When with misfortune crowned; Who'll pun beneath a pauper's yoke, And as he breaks his daily toke, Conundrums gay propound.

Just such a man was BERNARD JUPP, He scoffed at Fortune's frown; He gaily drained his bitter cup-- Though Fortune often threw him up, It never cast him down.

Though years their share of sorrow bring, We know that far above All other griefs, are griefs that spring From some misfortune happening To those we really love.

E'en sorrow for another's woe Our BERNARD failed to quell; Though by this special form of blow No person ever suffered so, Or bore his grief so well.

His father, wealthy and well clad, And owning house and park, Lost every halfpenny he had, And then became (extremely sad!) A poor attorney's clerk.

All sons it surely would appal, Except the pa.s.sing meek, To see a father lose his all, And from an independence fall To one pound ten a week!

But JUPP shook off this sorrow's weight, And, like a Christian son, Proved Poverty a happy fate-- Proved Wealth to be a devil's bait, To lure poor sinners on.

With other sorrows BERNARD coped, For sorrows came in packs; His cousins with their housemaids sloped-- His uncles forged--his aunts eloped-- His sisters married blacks.

But BERNARD, far from murmuring (Exemplar, friends, to us), Determined to his faith to cling,-- He made the best of everything, And argued softly thus:

"'Twere harsh my uncles' forging knack Too rudely to condemn-- My aunts, repentant, may come back, And blacks are nothing like as black As people colour them!"

Still Fate, with many a sorrow rife, Maintained relentless fight: His grandmamma next lost her life, Then died the mother of his wife, But still he seemed all right.

His brother fond (the only link To life that bound him now) One morning, overcome by drink, He broke his leg (the right, I think) In some disgraceful row.

But did my BERNARD swear and curse?

Oh no--to murmur loth, He only said, "Go, get a nurse: Be thankful that it isn't worse; You might have broken both!"

But worms who watch without concern The c.o.c.kchafer on thorns, Or beetles smashed, themselves will turn If, walking through the slippery fern, You tread upon their corns.

One night as BERNARD made his track Through Brompton home to bed, A footpad, with a vizor black, Took watch and purse, and dealt a crack On BERNARD'S saint-like head.

It was too much--his spirit rose, He looked extremely cross.

Men thought him steeled to mortal foes, But no--he bowed to countless blows, But kicked against this loss.

He finally made up his mind Upon his friends to call; Subscription lists were largely signed, For men were really glad to find Him mortal, after all!

Ballad: The Haughty Actor

An actor--GIBBS, of Drury Lane-- Of very decent station, Once happened in a part to gain Excessive approbation: It sometimes turns a fellow's brain And makes him singularly vain When he believes that he receives Tremendous approbation.

His great success half drove him mad, But no one seemed to mind him; Well, in another piece he had Another part a.s.signed him.

This part was smaller, by a bit, Than that in which he made a hit.

So, much ill-used, he straight refused To play the part a.s.signed him.

THAT NIGHT THAT ACTOR SLEPT, AND I'LL ATTEMPT TO TELL YOU OF THE VIVID DREAM HE DREAMT.

THE DREAM.

In fighting with a robber band (A thing he loved sincerely) A sword struck GIBBS upon the hand, And wounded it severely.

At first he didn't heed it much, He thought it was a simple touch, But soon he found the weapon's bound Had wounded him severely.

To Surgeon COBB he made a trip, Who'd just effected featly An amputation at the hip Particularly neatly.

A rising man was Surgeon COBB But this extremely ticklish job He had achieved (as he believed) Particularly neatly.

The actor rang the surgeon's bell.

"Observe my wounded finger, Be good enough to strap it well, And prithee do not linger.

That I, dear sir, may fill again The Theatre Royal Drury Lane: This very night I have to fight-- So prithee do not linger."

"I don't strap fingers up for doles,"

Replied the haughty surgeon; "To use your cant, I don't play roles Utility that verge on.

First amputation--nothing less-- That is my line of business: We surgeon n.o.bs despise all jobs Utility that verge on

"When in your hip there lurks disease"

(So dreamt this lively dreamer), "Or devastating caries In humerus or femur, If you can pay a handsome fee, Oh, then you may remember me-- With joy elate I'll amputate Your humerus or femur."

The disconcerted actor ceased The haughty leech to pester, But when the wound in size increased, And then began to fester, He sought a learned Counsel's lair, And told that Counsel, then and there, How COBB'S neglect of his defect Had made his finger fester.

"Oh, bring my action, if you please, The case I pray you urge on, And win me thumping damages From COBB, that haughty surgeon.

He culpably neglected me Although I proffered him his fee, So pray come down, in wig and gown, On COBB, that haughty surgeon!"

That Counsel learned in the laws, With pa.s.sion almost trembled.

He just had gained a mighty cause Before the Peers a.s.sembled!

Said he, "How dare you have the face To come with Common Jury case To one who wings rhetoric flings Before the Peers a.s.sembled?"

Dispirited became our friend-- Depressed his moral p.e.c.k.e.r-- "But stay! a thought!--I'll gain my end, And save my poor exchequer.

I won't be placed upon the shelf, I'll take it into Court myself, And legal lore display before The Court of the Exchequer."

He found a Baron--one of those Who with our laws supply us-- In wig and silken gown and hose, As if at Nisi Prius.

But he'd just given, off the reel, A famous judgment on Appeal: It scarce became his heightened fame To sit at Nisi Prius.

Our friend began, with easy wit, That half concealed his terror: "Pooh!" said the Judge, "I only sit In Banco or in Error.

Can you suppose, my man, that I'd O'er Nisi Prius Courts preside, Or condescend my time to spend On anything but Error?"

"Too bad," said GIBBS, "my case to shirk!