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As Alice was a-sitting at her window-sill one day, A beautiful young gentleman he chanced to pa.s.s that way; She cast her eyes upon him, and he looked so good and true, That she thought, "I could be happy with a gentleman like you!"
And every morning pa.s.sed her house that cream of gentlemen, She knew she might expect him at a quarter unto ten, A sorter in the Custom-house, it was his daily road (The Custom-house was fifteen minutes' walk from her abode).
But Alice was a pious girl, who knew it wasn't wise To look at strange young sorters with expressive purple eyes; So she sought the village priest, to whom her family confessed, The priest by whom their little sins were carefully a.s.sessed.
"Oh, holy father," Alice said, "'twould grieve you, would it not?
To discover that I was a most disreputable lot!
Of all unhappy sinners I'm the most unhappy one!"
The padre said, "Whatever have you been and gone and done?"
"I have helped mamma to steal a little kiddy from its dad, I've a.s.sisted dear papa in cutting up a little lad, I've planned a little burglary and forged a little check, And slain a little baby for the coral on its neck!"
The worthy pastor heaved a sigh and dropped a silent tear-- And said, "You mustn't judge yourself too heavily, my dear-- It's wrong to murder babies, little corals for to fleece: But sins like that one expiates at half-a-crown apiece.
"Girls will be girls--you're very young, and flighty in your mind; Old heads upon young shoulders we must not expect to find; We mustn't be too hard upon these little girlish tricks-- Let's see--five crimes at half-a-crown--exactly twelve-and-six."
"Oh, father," little Alice cried, "your kindness makes me weep, You do these little things for me so singularly cheap-- Your thoughtful liberality I never can forget; But, O, there is another crime I haven't mentioned yet!"
"A pleasant-looking gentleman, with pretty purple eyes, I've noticed at my window, as I've sat a-catching flies: He pa.s.ses by it every day as certain as can be-- I blush to say I've winked at him and he has winked at me!"
"For shame," said Father Paul, "my erring daughter! On my word This is the most distressing news that I have ever heard.
Why, naughty girl, your excellent papa has pledged your hand To a promising young robber, the lieutenant of his band!
"This dreadful piece of news will pain your worthy parents so!
They are the most remunerative customers I know; For many years they've kept starvation from my doors, I never knew so criminal a family as yours!
"The common country folk in this insipid neighborhood Have nothing to confess, they're so ridiculously good; And if you marry any one respectable at all, Why, you'll reform, and what will then become of Father Paul?"
The worthy priest, he up and drew his cowl upon his crown, And started off in haste to tell the news to Robber Brown; To tell him how his daughter, who now was for marriage fit, Had winked upon a sorter, who reciprocated it.
Good Robber Brown he m.u.f.fled up his anger pretty well, He said "I have a notion, and that notion I will tell; I will nab this gay young sorter, terrify him into fits, And get my gentle wife to chop him into little bits.
"I've studied human nature, and I know a thing or two, Though a girl may fondly love a living gent, as many do-- A feeling of disgust upon her senses there will fall When she looks upon his body chopped particularly small."
He traced that gallant sorter to a still suburban square; He watched his opportunity and seized him unaware; He took a life-preserver and he hit him on the head, And Mrs. Brown dissected him before she went to bed.
And pretty little Alice grew more settled in her mind, She never more was guilty of a weakness of the kind, Until at length good Robber Brown bestowed her pretty hand On the promising young robber, the lieutenant of his band.
BEN ALLAH ACHMET;
OR, THE FATAL TUM.
I once did know a Turkish man Whom I upon a two-pair-back met, His name it was Effendi Khan Backsheesh Pasha Ben Allah Achmet.
A Doctor Brown I also knew-- I've often eaten of his bounty-- The Turk and he they lived at Hooe, In Suss.e.x, that delightful county.
I knew a nice young lady there, Her name was Isabella Sherson, And though she wore another's hair, She was an interesting person.
The Turk adored the maid of Hooe (Although his harem would have shocked her); But Brown adored that maiden, too: He was a most seductive doctor.
They'd follow her where'er she'd go-- A course of action most improper; She neither knew by sight, and so For neither of them cared a copper.
Brown did not know that Turkish male, He might have been his sainted mother: The people in this simple tale Are total strangers to each other.
One day that Turk he sickened sore Which threw him straight into a sharp pet; He threw himself upon the floor And rolled about upon his--carpet.
It made him moan--it made him groan And almost wore him to a mummy: Why should I hesitate to own That pain was in his little tummy?
At length a Doctor came and rung (As Allah Achmet had desired) Who felt his pulse, looked up his tongue, And hummed and hawed, and then inquired:
"Where is the pain, that long has preyed Upon you in so sad a way, sir?"
The Turk he giggled, blushed, and said, "I don't exactly like to say, sir."
"Come, nonsense!" said good Doctor Brown, "So this is Turkish coyness, is it?
You must contrive to fight it down-- Come, come, sir, please to be explicit."
The Turk he shyly bit his thumb, And coyly blushed like one half-witted, "The pain is in my little tum,"
He, whispering, at length admitted.
"Then take you this, and take you that-- Your blood flows sluggish in its channel-- You must get rid of all this fat, And wear my medicated flannel.
"You'll send for me, when you're in need-- My name is Brown--your life I've saved it!"
"My rival!" shrieked the invalid, And drew a mighty sword and waved it.
"This to thy weazand, Christian pest!"
Aloud the Turk in frenzy yelled it, And drove right through the Doctor's chest The sabre and the hand that held it.
The blow was a decisive one, And Doctor Brown grew deadly pasty-- "Now see the mischief that you've done,-- You Turks are so extremely hasty.
"There are two Doctor Browns in Hooe, _He's_ short and stout--_I'm_ tall and wizen; You've been and run the wrong one through, That's how the error has arisen."
The accident was thus explained, Apologies were only heard now: "At my mistake I'm really pained, I am, indeed, upon my word now."
"With me, sir, you shall be interred, A Mausoleum grand awaits me"-- "Oh, pray don't say another word, I'm sure that more than compensates me.
"But, p'r'aps, kind Turk, you're full inside?"
"There's room," said he, "for any number."
And so they laid them down and died.
In proud Stamboul they sleep their slumber.