The Collected Works | Page 6

the Bhamo State
Line (The which was one mile and one furlong--a guaranteed
twenty-inch gauge), So Exeter Battleby Tring consented his claims to
resign,
And died, on four thousand a month, in the ninetieth year of

his age!
DELILAH
We have another viceroy now,--those days are dead and done
Of
Delilah Aberyswith and depraved Ulysses Gunne.
Delilah Aberyswith was a lady--not too young--
With a perfect taste
in dresses and a badly-bitted tongue,
With a thirst for information,
and a greater thirst for praise, And a little house in Simla in the
Prehistoric Days.
By reason of her marriage to a gentleman in power,
Delilah was
acquainted with the gossip of the hour;
And many little secrets, of the
half-official kind,
Were whispered to Delilah, and she bore them all
in mind.
She patronized extensively a man, Ulysses Gunne,
Whose mode of
earning money was a low and shameful one.
He wrote for certain
papers, which, as everybody knows,
Is worse than serving in a shop
or scaring off the crows.
He praised her "queenly beauty" first; and, later on, he hinted At the
"vastness of her intellect" with compliment unstinted. He went with her
a-riding, and his love for her was such
That he lent her all his horses
and--she galled them very much.
One day, THEY brewed a secret of a fine financial sort;
It related to
Appointments, to a Man and a Report.
'Twas almost worth the
keeping,--only seven people knew it-- And Gunne rose up to seek the
truth and patiently pursue it.
It was a Viceroy's Secret, but--perhaps the wine was red--
Perhaps an
Aged Councillor had lost his aged head--
Perhaps Delilah's eyes were
bright--Delilah's whispers sweet-- The Aged Member told her what
'twere treason to repeat.

Ulysses went a-riding, and they talked of love and flowers; Ulysses
went a-calling, and he called for several hours;
Ulysses went
a-waltzing, and Delilah helped him dance--
Ulysses let the waltzes go,
and waited for his chance.
The summer sun was setting, and the summer air was still,
The
couple went a-walking in the shade of Summer Hill.
The wasteful
sunset faded out in Turkish-green and gold,
Ulysses pleaded softly,
and-- that bad Delilah told!
Next morn, a startled Empire learnt the all-important news; Next week,
the Aged Councillor was shaking in his shoes.
Next month, I met
Delilah and she did not show the least
Hesitation in affirming that
Ulysses was a "beast."

We have another Viceroy now, those days are dead and done-- Of
Delilah Aberyswith and most mean Ulysses Gunne!
WHAT HAPPENED
Hurree Chunder Mookerjee, pride of Bow Bazaar,
Owner of a native
press, "Barrishter-at-Lar,"
Waited on the Government with a claim to
wear
Sabres by the bucketful, rifles by the pair.
Then the Indian Government winked a wicked wink,
Said to Chunder
Mookerjee: "Stick to pen and ink.
They are safer implements, but, if
you insist,
We will let you carry arms wheresoe'er you list."
Hurree Chunder Mookerjee sought the gunsmith and
Bought the
tubes of Lancaster, Ballard, Dean, and Bland,
Bought a shiny
bowie-knife, bought a town-made sword,
Jingled like a carriage-horse
when he went abroad.
But the Indian Government, always keen to please,
Also gave

permission to horrid men like these--
Yar Mahommed Yusufzai,
down to kill or steal,
Chimbu Singh from Bikaneer, Tantia the Bhil;
Killar Khan the Marri chief, Jowar Singh the Sikh,
Nubbee Baksh
Punjabi Jat, Abdul Huq Rafiq--
He was a Wahabi; last, little Boh
Hla-oo
Took advantage of the Act--took a Snider too.
They were unenlightened men, Ballard knew them not.
They
procured their swords and guns chiefly on the spot;
And the lore of
centuries, plus a hundred fights,
Made them slow to disregard one
another's rights.
With a unanimity dear to patriot hearts
All those hairy gentlemen out
of foreign parts
Said: "The good old days are back--let us go to war!"

Swaggered down the Grand Trunk Road into Bow Bazaar,
Nubbee Baksh Punjabi Jat found a hide-bound flail;
Chimbu Singh
from Bikaneer oiled his Tonk jezail;
Yar Mahommed Yusufzai spat
and grinned with glee
As he ground the butcher-knife of the
Khyberee.
Jowar Singh the Sikh procured sabre, quoit, and mace,
Abdul Huq,
Wahabi, jerked his dagger from its place,
While amid the jungle-grass
danced and grinned and jabbered Little Boh Hla-oo and cleared his
dah-blade from the scabbard.
What became of Mookerjee? Soothly, who can say?
Yar Mahommed
only grins in a nasty way,
Jowar Singh is reticent, Chimbu Singh is
mute.
But the belts of all of them simply bulge with loot.
What became of Ballard's guns? Afghans black and grubby
Sell them
for their silver weight to the men of Pubbi;
And the shiny
bowie-knife and the town-made sword are
Hanging in a Marri camp
just across the Border.

What became of Mookerjee? Ask Mahommed Yar
Prodding Siva's
sacred bull down the Bow Bazaar.
Speak to placid Nubbee
Baksh--question land and sea--
Ask the Indian Congressmen--only
don't ask me!
PINK DOMINOES
They are fools who kiss and tell"--
Wisely has the poet sung.
Man
may hold all sorts of posts
If he'll only hold his tongue.
Jenny and Me were engaged, you see,
On