Part 29 (2/2)

What her eyes were like, I know not: Perhaps they were blurred with tears; And perhaps in your skies there glow not (On the contrary) clearer spheres.

No as to her eyes I am just as wise As you or the cat, my dears.

Her teeth, I presume, were ”pearly”: But which was she, brunette or blonde?

Her hair, was it quaintly curly, Or as straight as a beadle's wand?

That I failed to remark;--it was rather dark And shadowy round the pond.

Then the hand that reposed so snugly In mine--was it plump or spare?

Was the countenance fair or ugly?

Nay, children, you have me there!

My eyes were p'raps blurr'd; and besides, I'd heard That it's horribly rude to stare.

And I--was I brusque and surly?

Or oppressively bland and fond?

Was I partial to rising early?

Or why did we twain abscond, All breakfastless too, from the public view To prowl by a misty pond?

What pa.s.sed, what was felt or spoken-- Whether anything pa.s.sed at all-- And whether the heart was broken That beat under that sheltering shawl-- (If shawl she had on, which I doubt)--has gone.

Yes, gone from me past recall.

Was I haply the lady's suitor?

Or her uncle? I can't make out-- Ask your governess, dears, or tutor.

For myself, I'm in hopeless doubt As to why we were there, and who on earth we were, And what this is all about.

_C. S. Calverley_.

_THE c.o.c.k AND THE BULL_

You see this pebble-stone? It's a thing I bought Of a bit of a chit of a boy i' the mid o' the day-- I like to dock the smaller parts-o-speech, As we curtail the already cur-tailed cur (You catch the paronomasia, play 'po' words?) Did, rather, i' the pre-Landseerian days.

Well, to my muttons. I purchased the concern, And clapt it i' my poke, having given for same By way o' chop, swop, barter or exchange-- ”Chop” was my snickering dandiprat's own term-- One s.h.i.+lling and fourpence, current coin o' the realm.

O-n-e one and f-o-u-r four Pence, one and fourpence--you are with me, sir?-- What hour it skills not: ten or eleven o' the clock, One day (and what a roaring day it was Go shop or sight-see--bar a spit o' rain!) In February, eighteen sixty nine, Alexandrina Victoria, Fidei, Hm--hm--how runs the jargon? being on the throne.

Such, sir, are all the facts, succinctly put, The basis or substratum--what you will-- Of the impending eighty thousand lines.

”Not much in 'em either,” quoth perhaps simple Hodge.

But there's a superstructure. Wait a bit.

Mark first the rationale of the thing: Hear logic rivel and levigate the deed.

That s.h.i.+lling--and for matter o' that, the pence-- I had o' course upo' me--wi' me say-- (_Mec.u.m's_ the Latin, make a note o' that) When I popp'd pen i' stand, scratched ear, wiped snout, (Let everybody wipe his own himself) Sniff'd--tch!--at snuffbox; tumbled up, he-heed, Haw-haw'd (not he-haw'd, that's another guess thing): Then fumbled at, and stumbled out of, door, I shoved the timber ope wi' my omoplat; And _in vestibulo_, i' the lobby to-wit, (Iacobi Facciolati's rendering, sir,) Donned galligaskins, antigropeloes, And so forth; and, complete with hat and gloves, One on and one a-dangle i' my hand, And ombrifuge (Lord love you!) cas o' rain, I flopped forth, 'sbuddikins! on my own ten toes, (I do a.s.sure you there be ten of them) And went clump-clumping up hill and down dale To find myself o' the sudden i' front o' the boy.

Put case I hadn't 'em on me, could I ha' bought This sort-o'-kind-o'-what-you-might-call-toy, This pebble-thing, o' the boy-thing? Q. E. D.

That's proven without aid for mumping Pope, Sleek porporate or bloated cardinal.

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