The Bab Ballads, vol 2 | Page 8

justify their Boards in
showing
A handsome dividend on shares
And keep their good
promoter going.
But no--the lout sticks to his brass,
Though shares at par I freely
proffer:
Yet--will it be believed?--the ass
Declines, with thanks, my
well-meant offer!
He adds, with bumpkin's stolid grin
(A weakly intellect denoting),

He'd rather not invest it in
A company of my promoting!
"You have two hundred 'thou' or more,"
Said I. "You'll waste it, lose
it, lend it;
Come, take my furnished second floor,
I'll gladly show
you how to spend it."
But will it be believed that he,
With grin upon his face of poppy,

Declined my aid, while thanking me
For what he called my
"philanthroppy"?
Some blind, suspicious fools rejoice
In doubting friends who
wouldn't harm them;
They will not hear the charmer's voice,

However wisely he may charm them!
I showed him that his coat, all dust,
Top boots and cords provoked
compassion,
And proved that men of station must
Conform to the
decrees of fashion.
I showed him where to buy his hat
To coat him, trouser him, and boot
him;
But no--he wouldn't hear of that--
"He didn't think the style

would suit him!"
I offered him a county seat,
And made no end of an oration;
I made
it certainty complete,
And introduced the deputation.
But no--the clown my prospect blights--
(The worth of birth it surely
teaches!)
"Why should I want to spend my nights
In Parliament,
a-making speeches?
"I haven't never been to school--
I ain't had not no eddication--
And
I should surely be a fool
To publish that to all the nation!"
I offered him a trotting horse--
No hack had ever trotted faster--
I
also offered him, of course,
A rare and curious "old master."
I offered to procure him weeds--
Wines fit for one in his position--

But, though an ass in all his deeds,
He'd learnt the meaning of
"commission."
He called me "thief" the other day,
And daily from his door he thrusts
me;
Much more of this, and soon I may
Begin to think that
BROWN mistrusts me.
So deaf to all sound Reason's rule
This poor uneducated clown is,

You canNOT fancy what a fool
Poor rich uneducated BROWN is.
Sir Macklin
Of all the youths I ever saw
None were so wicked, vain, or silly,
So
lost to shame and Sabbath law,
As worldly TOM, and BOB, and
BILLY.
For every Sabbath day they walked
(Such was their gay and
thoughtless natur)
In parks or gardens, where they talked
From
three to six, or even later.

SIR MACKLIN was a priest severe
In conduct and in conversation,

It did a sinner good to hear
Him deal in ratiocination.
He could in every action show
Some sin, and nobody could doubt
him.
He argued high, he argued low,
He also argued round about
him.
He wept to think each thoughtless youth
Contained of wickedness a
skinful,
And burnt to teach the awful truth,
That walking out on
Sunday's sinful.
"Oh, youths," said he, "I grieve to find
The course of life you've been
and hit on--
Sit down," said he, "and never mind
The pennies for
the chairs you sit on.
"My opening head is 'Kensington,'
How walking there the sinner
hardens,
Which when I have enlarged upon,
I go to 'Secondly'--its
'Gardens.'
"My 'Thirdly' comprehendeth 'Hyde,'
Of Secresy the guilts and
shameses;
My 'Fourthly'--'Park'--its verdure wide--
My 'Fifthly'
comprehends 'St. James's.'
"That matter settled, I shall reach
The 'Sixthly' in my solemn tether,

And show that what is true of each,
Is also true of all, together.
"Then I shall demonstrate to you,
According to the rules of
WHATELY,
That what is true of all, is true
Of each, considered
separately."
In lavish stream his accents flow,
TOM, BOB, and BILLY dare not
flout him;
He argued high, he argued low,
He also argued round
about him.
"Ha, ha!" he said, "you loathe your ways,
You writhe at these my
words of warning,
In agony your hands you raise."
(And so they did,

for they were yawning.)
To "Twenty-firstly" on they go,
The lads do not attempt to scout him;

He argued high, he argued low,
He also argued round about him.
"Ho, ho!" he cries, "you bow your crests--
My eloquence has set you
weeping;
In shame you bend upon your breasts!"
(And so they did,
for they were sleeping.)
He proved them this--he proved them that--
This good but wearisome
ascetic;
He jumped and thumped upon his hat,
He was so very
energetic.
His Bishop at this moment chanced
To pass, and found the road
encumbered;
He noticed how the Churchman danced,
And how his
congregation slumbered.
The hundred and eleventh head
The priest completed of his stricture;

"Oh, bosh!" the worthy Bishop said,
And walked him off as in the
picture.
The Yarn Of The "Nancy Bell"
'Twas on the shores that round our coast
From Deal to Ramsgate span,

That I found alone on a piece of stone
An elderly naval man.
His hair was weedy, his beard was long,
And weedy and long was he,

And I heard this wight on the shore recite,
In a singular minor key:
"Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold,
And the mate of the Nancy brig,

And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the
captain's gig."
And he shook his fists