50 Bab Ballads, vol 1 | Page 6

you, if you care to ask,
That PETER was his name.)
"Come, walk like this," the dancer said,
"Stick out your toes--stick in
your head,
Stalk on with quick, galvanic tread -
Your fingers thus
extend;
The attitude's considered quaint."
The weary Bishop,
feeling faint,
Replied, "I do not say it ain't,
But 'Time!' my Christian
friend!"
"We now proceed to something new -
Dance as the PAYNES and
LAURIS do,
Like this--one, two--one, two--one, two."
The Bishop,
never proud,
But in an overwhelming heat
(His name was PETER, I
repeat)
Performed the PAYNE and LAURI feat,
And puffed his
thanks aloud.
Another game the dancer planned -
"Just take your ankle in your hand,

And try, my lord, if you can stand -
Your body stiff and stark.
If,
when revisiting your see,
You learnt to hop on shore--like me -
The
novelty would striking be,
And must attract remark."
"No," said the worthy Bishop, "no;
That is a length to which, I trow,


Colonial Bishops cannot go.
You may express surprise
At
finding Bishops deal in pride -
But if that trick I ever tried,
I should
appear undignified
In Rum-ti-Foozle's eyes.
"The islanders of Rum-ti-Foo
Are well-conducted persons, who

Approve a joke as much as you,
And laugh at it as such;
But if they
saw their Bishop land,
His leg supported in his hand,
The joke they
wouldn't understand -
'T would pain them very much!"
Ballad: THE PRECOCIOUS BABY. A VERY TRUE TALE.
(To be
sung to the Air of the "Whistling Oyster.")
An elderly person--a prophet by trade -
With his quips and tips
On
withered old lips,
He married a young and a beautiful maid;
The
cunning old blade!
Though rather decayed,
He married a beautiful,
beautiful maid.
She was only eighteen, and as fair as could be,
With her tempting
smiles
And maidenly wiles,
And he was a trifle past seventy-three:

Now what she could see
Is a puzzle to me,
In a prophet of
seventy--seventy-three!
Of all their acquaintances bidden (or bad)
With their loud high jinks

And underbred winks,
None thought they'd a family have--but they
had;
A dear little lad
Who drove 'em half mad,
For he turned out a
horribly fast little cad.
For when he was born he astonished all by,
With their "Law, dear
me!"
"Did ever you see?"
He'd a pipe in his mouth and a glass in
his eye,
A hat all awry -
An octagon tie -
And a
miniature--miniature glass in his eye.
He grumbled at wearing a frock and a cap,
With his "Oh, dear, oh!"

And his "Hang it! 'oo know!"
And he turned up his nose at his
excellent pap -
"My friends, it's a tap
Dat is not worf a rap."
(Now

this was remarkably excellent pap.)
He'd chuck his nurse under the chin, and he'd say,
With his "Fal, lal,
lal" -
"'Oo doosed fine gal!"
This shocking precocity drove 'em
away:
"A month from to-day
Is as long as I'll stay -
Then I'd wish,
if you please, for to toddle away."
His father, a simple old gentleman, he
With nursery rhyme
And
"Once on a time,"
Would tell him the story of "Little Bo-P,"
"So
pretty was she,
So pretty and wee,
As pretty, as pretty, as pretty
could be."
But the babe, with a dig that would startle an ox,
With his "C'ck! Oh,
my! -
Go along wiz 'oo, fie!"
Would exclaim, "I'm afraid 'oo a
socking ole fox."
Now a father it shocks,
And it whitens his locks,

When his little babe calls him a shocking old fox.
The name of his father he'd couple and pair
(With his ill-bred laugh,

And insolent chaff)
With those of the nursery heroines rare -

Virginia the Fair,
Or Good Goldenhair,
Till the nuisance was more
than a prophet could bear.
"There's Jill and White Cat" (said the bold little brat,
With his loud,
"Ha, ha!")
"'Oo sly ickle Pa!
Wiz 'oo Beauty, Bo-Peep, and 'oo Mrs.
Jack Sprat!
I've noticed 'oo pat
MY pretty White Cat -
I sink dear
mamma ought to know about dat!"
He early determined to marry and wive,
For better or worse
With
his elderly nurse -
Which the poor little boy didn't live to contrive:

His hearth didn't thrive -
No longer alive,
He died an enfeebled old
dotard at five!
MORAL.
Now, elderly men of the bachelor crew,
With wrinkled hose
And

spectacled nose,
Don't marry at all--you may take it as true
If ever
you do
The step you will rue,
For your babes will be
elderly--elderly too.
Ballad: TO PHOEBE. {2}
"Gentle, modest little flower,
Sweet epitome of May,
Love me but
for half an hour,
Love me, love me, little fay."
Sentences so fiercely
flaming
In your tiny shell-like ear,
I should always be exclaiming

If I loved you, PHOEBE dear.
"Smiles that thrill from any distance
Shed upon me while I sing!

Please ecstaticize existence,
Love me, oh, thou fairy thing!"
Words
like these, outpouring sadly
You'd perpetually hear,
If I loved you
fondly, madly; -
But I do not, PHOEBE dear.
Ballad: BAINES CAREW, GENTLEMAN.
Of all the good attorneys who
Have placed their names upon the roll,

But few could equal BAINES CAREW
For tender-heartedness and
soul.
Whene'er he heard a tale of woe
From client A or client B,
His grief
would overcome him so
He'd scarce have strength to take his fee.
It laid him up for many days,
When duty led him to distrain,
And
serving writs, although it pays,
Gave him