The Bab Ballads Part 17

The fame of his piping spread over the land: Respectable widows proposed for his hand, And maidens came flocking to sit on the green-- Especially ELLEN McJONES ABERDEEN.

One morning the fidgety Sa.s.senach swore He'd stand it no longer--he drew his claymore, And (this was, I think, in extremely bad taste) Divided CLONGLOCKETTY close to the waist.

Oh! loud were the wailings for ANGUS McCLAN, Oh! deep was the grief for that excellent man; The maids stood aghast at the horrible scene-- Especially ELLEN McJONES ABERDEEN.

It sorrowed poor PATTISON CORBY TORBAY To find them "take on" in this serious way; He pitied the poor little fluttering birds, And solaced their souls with the following words:

"Oh, maidens," said PATTISON, touching his hat, "Don't blubber, my dears, for a fellow like that; Observe, I'm a very superior man, A much better fellow than ANGUS McCLAN."

They smiled when he winked and addressed them as "dears,"

And they all of them vowed, as they dried up their tears, A pleasanter gentleman never was seen-- Especially ELLEN McJONES ABERDEEN.

Peter The Wag

Policeman PETER forth I drag From his obscure retreat: He was a merry genial wag, Who loved a mad conceit.

If he were asked the time of day, By country b.u.mpkins green, He not unfrequently would say, "A quarter past thirteen."

If ever you by word of mouth Inquired of MISTER FORTH The way to somewhere in the South, He always sent you North.

With little boys his beat along He loved to stop and play; He loved to send old ladies wrong, And teach their feet to stray.

He would in frolic moments, when Such mischief bent upon, Take Bishops up as betting men-- Bid Ministers move on.

Then all the worthy boys he knew He regularly licked, And always collared people who Had had their pockets picked.

He was not naturally bad, Or viciously inclined, But from his early youth he had A waggish turn of mind.

The Men of London grimly scowled With indignation wild; The Men of London gruffly growled, But PETER calmly smiled.

Against this minion of the Crown The swelling murmurs grew-- From Camberwell to Kentish Town-- From Rotherhithe to Kew.

Still humoured he his wagsome turn, And fed in various ways The coward rage that dared to burn, But did not dare to blaze.

Still, Retribution has her day, Although her flight is slow: ONE DAY THAT CRUSHER LOST HIS WAY NEAR POLAND STREET, SOHO.

The haughty boy, too proud to ask, To find his way resolved, And in the tangle of his task Got more and more involved.

The Men of London, overjoyed, Came there to jeer their foe, And flocking crowds completely cloyed The mazes of Soho.

The news on telegraphic wires Sped swiftly o'er the lea, Excursion trains from distant s.h.i.+res Brought myriads to see.

For weeks he trod his self-made beats Through Newport- Gerrard- Bear- Greek- Rupert- Frith- Dean- Poland- Streets, And into Golden Square.

But all, alas! in vain, for when He tried to learn the way Of little boys or grown-up men, They none of them would say.

Their eyes would flash--their teeth would grind-- Their lips would tightly curl-- They'd say, "Thy way thyself must find, Thou misdirecting churl!"

And, similarly, also, when He tried a foreign friend; Italians answered, "Il balen"-- The French, "No comprehend."

The Russ would say with gleaming eye " Sevastopol!" and groan.

The Greek said, [Greek text], [Greek text]."

To wander thus for many a year That Crusher never ceased-- The Men of London dropped a tear, Their anger was appeased

At length exploring gangs were sent To find poor FORTH'S remains-- A handsome grant by Parliament Was voted for their pains.

To seek the poor policeman out Bold spirits volunteered, And when they swore they'd solve the doubt, The Men of London cheered.

And in a yard, dark, dank, and drear, They found him, on the floor-- It leads from Richmond Buildings--near The Royalty stage-door.

With brandy cold and brandy hot They plied him, starved and wet, And made him sergeant on the spot-- The Men of London's pet!

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 EMILY MACPHERSON, 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, And suffered agonies oppressive; He threw himself upon the floor And rolled about in pain excessive.

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 hemmed 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.