More Bab Ballads Part 15

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 eyegla.s.s 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 publicly absurd; 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: Old Paul And Old Tim

When rival adorers come courting a maid, There's something or other may often be said, Why HE should be pitched upon rather than HIM.

This wasn't the case with Old PAUL and Old TIM.

No soul could discover a reason at all For marrying TIMOTHY rather than PAUL; Though all could have offered good reasons, on oath, Against marrying either--or marrying both.

They were equally wealthy and equally old, They were equally timid and equally bold; They were equally tall as they stood in their shoes-- Between them, in fact, there was nothing to choose.

Had I been young EMILY, I should have said, "You're both much too old for a pretty young maid, Threescore at the least you are verging upon"; But I wasn't young EMILY. Let us get on.

No coward's blood ran in young EMILY'S veins, Her martial old father loved b.l.o.o.d.y campaigns; At the rumours of battles all over the globe He p.r.i.c.ked up his ears like the war-horse in "Job."

He chuckled to hear of a sudden surprise-- Of soldiers, compelled, through an enemy's spies, Without any knapsacks or shakos to flee-- For an eminent army-contractor was he.

So when her two lovers, whose patience was tried, Implored her between them at once to decide, She told them she'd marry whichever might bring Good proofs of his doing the pluckiest thing.

They both went away with a qualified joy: That coward, Old PAUL, chose a very small boy, And when no one was looking, in spite of his fears, He set to work boxing that little boy's ears.

The little boy struggled and tugged at his hair, But the lion was roused, and Old PAUL didn't care; He smacked him, and whacked him, and boxed him, and kicked Till the poor little beggar was royally licked.

Old TIM knew a trick worth a dozen of that, So he called for his stick and he called for his hat.

"I'll cover myself with cheap glory--I'll go And wallop the Frenchmen who live in Soho!

"The German invader is ravaging France With infantry rifle and cavalry lance, And beautiful Paris is fighting her best To shake herself free from her terrible guest.