Part 17 (1/2)

They're nothing in my line at all They are so near a-kin, And so if I consent to this At once they'll hem me in.

O, you couldn't think it, Master Lue, That I should do you harm, For don't I read my testament And don't I sing my psalm.

'Tis all my eye, said Louis, both Your testament and psalms; You use the dumbbells regular To strengthen up your arms.

So take your poor relation off, You pious-looking prig, And open out Kit Denmark's box, And give him back Slesvig.

Come, come, says Mrs. Europe, Let's have no bother here, Your trying now to breed a row At least it does appear.

Now Johnny hearing from the bunk What both of them did say, He shouted out, Now stop it, Will, Or else you'll rue the day.

All right friend John, I'm much obliged, You are my friend, I know, And so my little cousin, sir, I'm willing to withdraw.

But Louis frothed at mouth with rage, Like one that was insane, And said he'd make Bill promise him He'd not offend again.

I'd promise no such thing, says Mark, For that would hurt your pride, Sing on and read your testament, Dame Europe's on your side.

If I'd to promise out at sort, 'Twould be against my mind; So take it right or take it wrong, I'll promise naught at kind.

Then I shall take and wallop thee Unless thou cuts thy stick, And drive thee to thy fatherland Before another week.

Come on, cried Sanctimonius, And sending out his arm He caught poor Louis on the nose, Then sung another psalm.

But Louis soon was on his pins, And used his fists a bit, But he was fairly out of breath, And seldom ever hit.

And at the end of round the first, He got it fearful hot, This was his baptism of fire If we mistake it not.

So w.i.l.l.y sent a letter home, To his mother, old Augusta, Telling her he'd thrashed poor Lue, And given him such a duster.

What wonderful events, says he, Has heaven brought about, I fight the greatest pugilist That ever was brought out.

And if by divine Providence I get safe through this row, Then I will sing ”My G.o.d the spring From whom all blessings flow.”

Meanwhile the other Monitors, Were standing looking on, But none of them durst speak a word, But all stared straight at John.

Ought not I to interfere, Says Johnny to the rest, But he was told by every one Neutrality was the best.

Neutral, growl'd John, I hate the name, 'Tis poison to my ear, It's another word for cowardice, And makes me fit to swear.

At any rate I can do this, My mind I will not mask, I'll give poor Lue a little drop Out of my brandy flask.

And give it up, poor Lue, my lad, You might as well give in, You know that I have got no power, Besides you did begin.

Then Louis rose, and looked at John, And spoke of days gone by, When he would not have seen his friend, Have blackened Johnny's eye.

And as for giving in, friend John, I'll do nothing of the sort; Do you think I'll be a laughing stock For everybody's sport.

This conversation that took place Made pious w.i.l.l.y grin, And told John Bull to hold his noise, 'Twas nought to do with him.

These words to John did make him stare, And, finding to his shame, That them were worse that did look on, Than them that played the game.