The Bab Ballads, vol 3 | Page 8

far as I'm aware)

With CLEGGS'S legs to spend;
Though Mermaids swam around all
day
And gazed, exclaiming, "THAT'S the way
A gentleman should
end!
"A pair of legs with well-cut knees,
And calves and ankles such as
these
Which we in rapture hail,
Are far more eloquent, it's clear

(When clothed in silk and kerseymere),
Than any nasty tail."
And CLEGGS--a worthy kind old boy--
Rejoiced to add to others' joy,

And, when the day was dry,
Because it pleased the lookers-on,

He sat from morn till night--though conStitutionally
shy.

At first the Mermen laughed, "Pooh! pooh!"
But finally they jealous
grew,
And sounded loud recalls;
But vainly. So these fishy males

Declared they too would clothe their tails
In silken hose and smalls.
They set to work, these water-men,
And made their nether robes--but
when
They drew with dainty touch
The kerseymere upon their tails,

They found it scraped against their scales,
And hurt them very
much.
The silk, besides, with which they chose
To deck their tails by way of
hose
(They never thought of shoon),
For such a use was much too
thin,--
It tore against the caudal fin,
And "went in ladders" soon.
So they designed another plan:
They sent their most seductive man

This note to him to show--
"Our Monarch sends to CAPTAIN
CLEGGS
His humble compliments, and begs
He'll join him down
below;
"We've pleasant homes below the sea--
Besides, if CAPTAIN
CLEGGS should be
(As our advices say)
A judge of Mermaids, he
will find
Our lady-fish of every kind
Inspection will repay."
Good CAPEL sent a kind reply,
For CAPEL thought he could descry

An admirable plan
To study all their ways and laws--
(But not
their lady-fish, because
He was a married man).
The Merman sank--the Captain too
Jumped overboard, and dropped
from view
Like stone from catapult;
And when he reached the
Merman's lair,
He certainly was welcomed there,
But, ah! with
what result?
They didn't let him learn their law,
Or make a note of what he saw,

Or interesting mem.:
The lady-fish he couldn't find,
But that, of
course, he didn't mind--

He didn't come for them.

For though, when CAPTAIN CAPEL sank,
The Mermen drawn in
double rank
Gave him a hearty hail,
Yet when secure of CAPTAIN
CLEGGS,
They cut off both his lovely legs,
And gave him SUCH a
tail!
When CAPTAIN CLEGGS returned aboard,
His blithesome crew
convulsive roar'd,
To see him altered so.
The Admiralty did insist

That he upon the Half-pay List
Immediately should go.
In vain declared the poor old salt,
"It's my misfortune--not my fault,"

With tear and trembling lip--
In vain poor CAPEL begged and
begged.
"A man must be completely legged
Who rules a British
ship."
So spake the stern First Lord aloud--
He was a wag, though very
proud,
And much rejoiced to say,
"You're only half a captain now--

And so, my worthy friend, I vow
You'll only get half-pay!"
Ballad: Annie Protheroe. A Legend of Stratford-Le-Bow
Oh! listen to the tale of little ANNIE PROTHEROE.
She kept a small
post-office in the neighbourhood of BOW;
She loved a skilled
mechanic, who was famous in his day--
A gentle executioner whose
name was GILBERT CLAY.
I think I hear you say, "A dreadful subject for your rhymes!" O reader,
do not shrink--he didn't live in modern times!
He lived so long ago
(the sketch will show it at a glance)
That all his actions glitter with
the lime-light of Romance.
In busy times he laboured at his gentle craft all day--
"No doubt you
mean his Cal-craft," you amusingly will say-- But, no--he didn't operate
with common bits of string,
He was a Public Headsman, which is
quite another thing.
And when his work was over, they would ramble o'er the lea, And sit

beneath the frondage of an elderberry tree,
And ANNIE'S simple
prattle entertained him on his walk,
For public executions formed the
subject of her talk.
And sometimes he'd explain to her, which charmed her very much,
How famous operators vary very much in touch,
And then, perhaps,
he'd show how he himself performed the trick, And illustrate his
meaning with a poppy and a stick.
Or, if it rained, the little maid would stop at home, and look At his
favourable notices, all pasted in a book,
And then her cheek would
flush--her swimming eyes would dance with joy In a glow of
admiration at the prowess of her boy.
One summer eve, at supper-time, the gentle GILBERT said
(As he
helped his pretty ANNIE to a slice of collared head), "This reminds me
I must settle on the next ensuing day
The hash of that unmitigated
villain PETER GRAY."
He saw his ANNIE tremble and he saw his ANNIE start,
Her
changing colour trumpeted the flutter at her heart;
Young
GILBERT'S manly bosom rose and sank with jealous fear, And he said,
"O gentle ANNIE, what's the meaning of this here?"
And ANNIE answered, blushing in an interesting way,
"You think,
no doubt, I'm sighing for that felon PETER GRAY: That I was his
young woman is unquestionably true,
But not since I began a-keeping
company with you."
Then GILBERT, who was irritable, rose and loudly swore
He'd know
the reason why if she refused to tell him more;
And she answered (all
the woman