Successful Recitations Part 67

I said I hadn't no 'pinion o' men, And I wouldn't take stock in _him!_ But they kep' up a-comin' in spite o' my talk, 's.p.a.cially Jim.

I got _so_ tired o' havin' 'em roun'

('s.p.a.cially Jim!), I made up my mind I'd settle down An' take up with him;

So we was married one Sunday in church, 'Twas crowded full to the brim, 'Twas the only way to get rid of 'em all, 's.p.a.cially Jim.

'ARRY'S ANCIENT MARINER.

(_TOLD ON MARGATE JETTY_.)

BY CAMPBELL RAE-BROWN.

He was an ainshunt mariner Wot sailed the oshun blue; His craft it was the _Crazy Jane_ Wot was made of wood and glue.

It sailed 'atween _Westminister_ And the Gulf of Timbucktoo; Its bulkhead was a putty one; Its cargo--no one knew.

I've heerd as how when a storm came on It 'ud turn clean upside down, But I _never_ could make out as why Its skipper didn't drown.

He was the most unwashedest Old salt I ever knowed: And all the things as he speaked about Was nearly always "blowed."

One day he told me a straw'nry tale, But I don't think it were lies, Bekos he swore as it was true-- Tho' a big 'un as to size.

He sez as how in the Biskey Bay They was sailin' along one night, When a _summat_ rose from the bilin' waves As give him a _norful_ fright.

He wouldn't exzagerate, he sed-- No, he wouldn't, not if he died; But the head of that monster was most as big As a bloomin' mountain-side.

Its eyes was ten times bigger 'an the moon; Its ears was as long as a street; And each of its eyelids--_without tellin' lies_-- Would have kivered an or'nary sheet.

"And now," said he, "may I _never speak agin_ If I'm a-tellin' yer wrong, But the length o' that sarpint from head to tail Warn't a _ninch_ under _ten mile long_,

"To the end of its tail there hung a great wale, And a-ridin' on its back was sharks; On the top of its head about two hundred seals Was a-havin' no end of larks.

"Now, as to beleevin' of what I sez _next_ Yer can do as yer likes," sez he; "But this 'ere sarpint, or whatever he was, He ups and he _speaks_ to me.

"Sez the sarpint, sez he, in a voice like a clap Of thunder, or a cannon's roar: 'Now say good-bye to the air and the sky For you'll never see land no more.'

"I s.h.i.+vered like a sail wot's struck by a gale And I downs on my bended knees; And the tears rolls over my face like a sea, And I shrieks like a gull in a breeze.

"Sez I, 'I'm an ainshunt old skipper, that's all, And I ain't never done nuffin wrong.'

He sez, 'You old lubber, just stow that blubber, I'm a-going fer to haul yer along.'

"Then he puts out a fin like a big barndoor-- Now this 'ere is real straight truth-- It sounds like a fable, but he tuk my bloomin' cable, _And he tied it to his left front tooth!_

"In another second more, at the bottom of the sea The _Crazy Jane_ was aground; Sez I, 'You oughter be ashamed of yerself, It's a one-der as I wasn't drowned.'

"Then he calls on a porkeypine a-standin' quite near, Sez he, 'Look arter this barge,'

'A-begging your pardon that's a _wessel_' I sez: Sez he: 'Werry fine and large!'

"With one of hiz eye-lashes, thick as a rope, He ties me on to his knoze, Then down in a cave right under the sea Like a flash of light we goes.

"He tuk me up to his wife, who was A murmyaid with three tails; She was havin' of her dinner, and perlitely she sez, 'Will you have some o' these 'ere snails?'

"So I sits me down by her buteful side-- She'd a face like a sunset sky; Her hair was a sort of a scarlety red, And her knoze was strait as a die.

"I hadn't sot a minit wen sez she to me, 'Sammy, don't yer know me agane?

Why, I'm the wife arter wot yer call'd yer s.h.i.+p; Sure enuf, it _was_ Craizy Jane--

"The wife as had bother'd me all my life, Until she got drown'd one day, When a-bathin' out o' one of them there masheens In this wery same Margit Bay.

"The Sarpint was a-havin' of his dinner, and so She perposed as how we should fly-- But, sez I to meself, 'What, take _you_ back?

Not if I knose it,' sez I.

"'But how about them there tails?' I sez-- 'On sh.o.r.e _them_ will niver doo;'

She sez, 'Yer silly, why, karn't yer see, They're only fixed on wi' a screw?'

"So I tells her as how I'll go fetch the old s.h.i.+p Wile she's a-unscreuing of her tails; But when I gets back to the _Crazy Jane_ I finds there a couple of wales.

"I jist had time to see the biggest of the two A-swallerin' of the s.h.i.+p right whole, And in one more momint he swallered me too, As true as I'm a livin' sole.

"But when he got to the surfis of the sea, A summat disagreed with that wale, And he up with me and the _Crazy Jane_ and all-- And this 'ere's the end of my tail."

Then this old ainshunt mariner, he sez unto me-- And 'onesty was s.h.i.+nin' in hiz eyes-- "_It's jist the sort o' story wot no one won't beleeve-- But it's true, little nipper, if I dies_,"

THE AMATEUR ORLANDO.

BY GEORGE T. LANIGAN.

It was an Amateur Dram. a.s.s., (Kind hearer, although your Knowledge of French is not first-cla.s.s, Don't call that Amature.) It was an Amateur Dram. a.s.s., The which did warfare wage On the dramatic works of this And every other age.

It had a walking gentleman, A leading juvenile, First lady in book-muslin dressed.

With a galvanic smile; Thereto a singing chambermaid, Benignant heavy pa, And oh, heavier still was the heavier vill- Ain, with his fierce "Ha! Ha!"

There wasn't an author from Shakespeare down-- Or up--to Boucicault, These amateurs weren't competent To collar and a.s.sault.

And when the winter time came round-- "Season" 's a stagier phrase-- The Am. Dram. a.s.s. a.s.saulted one Of the Bard of Avon's plays.

'Twas _As You Like It_ that they chose; For the leading lady's heart Was set on playing _Rosalind_ Or some other page's part, And the President of the Am. Dram. a.s.s., A stalwart dry-goods clerk, Was cast for _Oriando_, in which _role_ He felt he'd make his mark.

"I mind me," said the President, (All thoughtful was his face,) "When _Oriando_ was taken by Thingummy That _Charles_ was played by Mace.