The morning dawned-and the next-and the next No knocker fell, His approach to tell; Not so much as a runaway ring at the bell. Yet the sun shone bright upon tower and tree, And thus 'twill be-nor long the day- But where the hand that carved it? Where? These were hinted to me as the very ideas Which passed through the mind of the fair Lady Jane, As she walked on the esplanade to and again, With Captain MacBride, Of course at her side, Who could not look quite so forlorn-though he tried, An "idea" in fact, had got into his head, That if "poor dear Sir Thomas" should really be dead, It might be no bad "spec" to be there in his stead, And by simply contriving, in due time, to wed A lady who was young and fair, A lady slim and tall, To set himself down in comfort there, The lord of Tapton Hall. The Knight and the Lady 595 Thinks he, “We have sent Half over Kent, And nobody knows how much money's been spent, Yet no one's been found to say which way he went! Lost or Mislaid, A GENTLEMAN;-middle-aged, sober and staid; And a hat rather low crowned, and broad in the brim. Or send him with care, (Right side uppermost) home; or shall give notice where Said middle-aged GENTLEMAN is; or shall state Any fact, that may tend to throw light on his fate, "Had he been above ground, He must have been found. No; doubtless he's shot-or he's hanged-or he's drowned! Then his widow-ay! ay! But what will folks say? To address her at once, at so early a day. Well-what then-who cares!-let 'em say what they may." When a man has decided As Captain MacBride did, And once fully made up his mind on the matter, he He began on the instant, and vowed that her eyes Far exceeded in brilliance the stars in the skies; That her lips were like roses, her cheeks were like lilies; Her breath had the odor of daffadowndillies!— With a thousand more compliments, equally true, Expressed in similitudes equally new! Then his left arm he placed Round her jimp, taper waist Ere she fixed to repulse or return his embrace, Which always betokens dismay or disaster, Crying out 'twas the gard'ner-" Oh, ma'am! we've found master!!" "Where! where?" screamed the lady; and echo screamed, "Where?" The man couldn't say there!" He had no breath to spare, But gasping for breath he could only respond. By pointing-he pointed, alas! TO THE POND. 'Twas e'en so; poor dear Knight, with his " hat, specs" and his He'd gone poking his nose to this and to that; His own; he had caught her! Got hold of her tail-and to land almost brought her, The Lady Jane was tall and slim, The Lady Jane was fair, Alas! for Sir Thomas!-she grieved for him, She sobbed and she sighed, she lamented and cried, For of sorrow brimful was her cup; She swooned, and I think she'd have fallen down and died, If Captain MacBride Hadn't been by her side With the gardener;-they both their assistance supplied, And managed to hold her up. But when she comes to," Oh! 'tis shocking to view The sight which the corpse reveals! Sir Thomas' body, It looked so odd-he Was half eaten up by the eels! The Knight and the Lady 597 His waistcoat and hose, And the rest of his clothes, Were all gnawed through and through; And out of each shoe, An eel they drew; And from each of his pockets they pulled out two! As well might be supposed he'd do, For, when he came running to give the alarm, Good Father John was summoned anon; And incense ignited, And masses were sung, and masses were said, But Lady Jane was tall and slim, And Lady Jane was fair, And ere morning came, that winsome dame Had made up her mind, or-what's much the same- To Thompson the valet, while taking away, So good ne'er tasted before!— They're a fish too, of which I'm remarkably fond- Poor dear!-he'll catch us some more." MORAL All middle-aged gentlemen let me advise, If you've spectacles, don't have a tortoise-shell rim, Married ladies, especially such as are fair, Tall and slim, I would next recommend to beware, Richard Harris Barham. AN EASTERN QUESTION My William was a soldier, and he says to me, says he, 'Twere hard for me to part with him; he couldn't read nor write, So I never had love letters for to keep my memory bright; But Jim, who is our footman, took the Daily Telegraph, And told me William's reg-i-ment mowed down the foe like chaff. So every day Jim come to me to read the Eastern news, And used to bring me bouquets, which I scarcely could refuse; Till one fine day it happened-how it happened, goodness knows, He put his arm around me and he started to propose. I put his hand from off me, and I said in thrilling tones, "I like you, Jim, but never will I give up William Jones; It ain't no good your talking, for my heart is firm and fixed, For William is engaged to me, and naught shall come betwixt." So Jim he turned a ghastly pale to find there was no hope; And made remarks about a pond, and razors, and a rope; The other servants pitied him, and Rosie said as much; But Rosie was too flighty, and he didn't care for such. |