The car went upside down, and far Long time head over heels he tum- As I suppose, he must have come; The car was found in London town; But what became of Major Brown, THOMAS HOOL 12. THE DUEL. IN Brentford town, of old renown, To see her ride from Hammersmith, By all it was allowed, Such fair "outside"* was never seen, An angel on a cloud. Said Mr. Bray to Mr. Clay, "You choose to rival me And court Miss Bell; but there your court No thoroughfare shall be. "Unless you now give up your suit, You may repent your love ; I, who have shot a pigeon match, "So, pray, before you woo her more, If you pop aught to Lucy Bell,- Said Mr. Clay to Mr. Bray, "Your threats I do explode ; * In England, women frequently ride on the outside of stage-coaches. One who has been a volunteer And so I say to you, unless I, who have shot and hit bulls' eyes, Now gold is oft for silver changed, And that for copper But these two went away to give But first they found a friend apiece, That when they both were dead, they'd have To measure out the ground, not long They next prepared each pistol pan, Now all was ready for the foes; But when they took their stands, Fear made them tremble so, they found They both were shaking hands. Said Mr. C. to Mr. B., "Here one of us may fall, And, like St. Paul's Cathedral now, Be doomed to have a ball. "I do confess I did attach If I withdraw the charge, will then Said Mr. B., "I do agree; But think of Honor's courts, If we off without a shot, There will be strange reports. "But look! the morning now is bright, Though cloudy it begun; Why can't we aim above, as if So up into the harmless air THOMAS HOOD. 13. JOHN DAY. JOHN DAY, he was the biggest man, With back too broad to be conceived The bar-maid of "The Crown" he loved, One day, as she was sitting down He came and knelt, with all his fat, Said she, "My taste will never learn So I must beg you will come here But still he stoutly urged his suit, In vain he wooed-in vain he sued- He fretted all the way to Stroud, The course of love was never smooth, At last, her coldness made him pine Worn out, at last he made a vow, Now, some will talk in water's praise, The cruel maid, that caused his love, For, looking in the butt, she saw The butt end of his woes. Some say his spirit haunts the Crown; But that is only talk; For, after riding all his life, THOMAS HOOD. 14. THE TROUBLESOME WIFF. A MAN had once a vicious wife (A most uncommon thing in life); His days and nights were spent in strife unceasing. Her tongue went glibly all day long, Sweet contradiction still her song, And all the poor man did was wrong, and ill-done. A truce without doors, or within, Or rest from her eternal din, he found not. He every soothing art displayed; Tried of what stuff her skin was made: Failing in all, to Heaven he prayed to take her. Once, walking by a river's side, In mournful terms, "My dear," he cried, "No more let feuds our peace divide: I'll end them. "Weary of life, and quite resigned, To drown, I have made up my mind, So tie my hands as fast behind, as can be ; "Or nature may assert her reign, My arms assist, my will restrain, And swimming, I once more regain my troubles." With eager haste the dame complies, While joy stands glistening in her eyes: Already, in her thoughts, he dies before her. "Yet, when I view the rolling tide, Nature revolts," he said; "beside, I would not be a suicide, and die thus. "It would be better far, I think, While close I stand upon the brink, You push me in-nay, never shrink, but do it." To give the blow the more effect, Some twenty yards she ran direct, And did what she could least expect she should do. He slips aside, himself to save, So souse she dashes in the wave, And gave, what ne'er she gave before, much pleasure. "Dear husband, help! I sink!" she cried; "Thou best of wives," the man replied, “I would,but you my hands have tied heaven help you." ANONYMOUS. |