Absurd Ditties. Farrow George Edward
watch ze men, and watch ze ball.
Ze cricquette men zey run, zey bat,
Zey throw ze ball, zey catch, zey shout;
And Angelina clap her hands.
Vot for, I know not, all about,
And in myself I say "Ah! oui!
I too a cricquette man shall be."
To Angelina's brother Jack
(His name is also Mastair Brown)
I say, "Come, teach me cricquette match,
And I will give you half-a-crown."
Jack say, "My eye!" (in French mes yeux)1
"Oh! what a treat!" (in French c'est beau).
After, to Ealing Common we
Go out, with "wicquette" and with "ball,"
And what Jack calls a "cricquette-bat."
(Zese tings I do not know at all;
But Angelina I would catch,
So "Allons! Vive la cricquette match!")
I hold ze "bat," Jack hold ze "ball."
"Now zen! Look out!" I hear him cry.
I drop ze "bat," I look about;
Ze ball – he hit me in ze eye."
I cry, "Parbleu!" Ze stars I see.
I think it is "all up" wiz me.
I try again. Ze "ball" is hard.
I catch him two times – on ze nose.
I run, I fall, I hurt my arm,
I spoil my new white flannel clothes,
In every part I'm bruised and sore,
So cricquette match I play no more.
I change my clothes, I patch my eye,
I tie my nose up in a sling,
And to Miss Angelina Brown
Myself and all my woes I bring.
"Ah, see," I cry, "how love can make
Alphonse a hero for thy sake."
But Angelina laugh and laugh,
And say, "I know it isn't right
To laugh; but you must please forgive
Me. You look such a fright!"
And next day Jack say, "I say, Bones,
My sister's going to marry Jones."
XI
THAT OF LORD WILLIAM OF PURLEIGH
Lord William of Purleigh retired for the night
With a mind full of worry and trouble,
Which was caused by an income uncommonly slight,
And expenses uncommonly double.
Now the same sort of thing often happens, to me —
And perhaps to yourself – for most singularlee
One's accounts – if one keeps 'em – will never come right,
If, of "moneys received," one spends double.
His lordship had gone rather early to bed,
And for several hours had been sleeping,
When he suddenly woke – and the hair on his head
Slowly rose – he could hear someone creeping
About in his room, in the dead of the night,
With a lantern, which showed but a glimmer of light,
And his impulse, at first, was to cover his head
When he heard that there burglar a-creeping.
But presently thinking "Poor fellow, there's naught
In the house worth a burglar a-taking,
And, being a kind-hearted lord, p'r'aps I ought,
To explain the mistake he's a-making."
Lord William, then still in his woolly night-cap
(For appearances noblemen don't care a rap),
His second-best dressing-gown hastily sought,
And got up without any noise making.
"I'm exceedingly sorry," his lordship began,
"But your visit, I fear, will be fruitless.
I possess neither money, nor jewels, my man,
So your burglaring here will be bootless.
The burglar was startled, but kept a cool head,
And bowed, as his lordship, continuing, said:
"Excuse me a moment. I'll find if I can
My warm slippers, for I too am bootless."
This pleasantry put them both quite at their ease;
They discoursed of De Wet, and of Tupper.
Then the household his lordship aroused, if you please,
And invited the burglar to supper.
The burglar told tales of his hardly-won wealth,
And each drank to the other one's jolly good health.
There's a charm about informal parties like these,
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