THE ANCIENT MILLINER.

(His Reminiscences of the Recent Gale.)

PART I.

IT was the Ancient Milliner

Stood by his open door;

The tale he told was something like

A tale I'd heard before.

* * * *

I called forthwith a Hansom, and

"Now, Cabman, drive!" I cried;

"For I must get this bandbox home

Before the eventide.

Raining Cats and Dogs

"The bride a-pacing up the aisle

Mad as a dog would be,

Without this sweet confection of

Silk and passementerie."

Westward the good cab flew. The horse

Was kick-some, wild, and gay;

He tossed his head from side to side

In an offensive way.

He tossed his head, he shook his mane,

And he was big and black;

He wore a little mackintosh

Upon his monstrous back.

I mused upon that mackintosh,

All mournfully mused I;

It was too small a thing to keep

So large a beastie dry.

And on we went up Oxford Street

With a short, uneasy motion;

What made the beast go sideways I

Have not the faintest notion

But we ran into an omnibus

With a short, uneasy motion.

All in a hot, improper way.

The rude 'bus-driver said,

That them what couldn't drive a horse

Should try a moke instead.

Never a word my cabman spoke—

No audible reply—

But, oh, a thousand scathing things

He thought; and so did I.

"What ails thee, Ancient Milliner?

What means thy ashen hue?

Why look'st thou so?"—I murmured, "Blow!"

And at my word it blew.

PART II.

The storm-blast came down Edgware Road,

Shrieking in furious glee,

It struck the cab, and both its doors

Leaped open, flying free.

I shut those doors, and kept them close

With all my might and main;

The storm-blast snatched them from my hands,

And forced them back again,

It blew the cabman from his perch

Towards the hornéd moon;

I saw him dimly overhead

Sail like a bad balloon.

It blew the bandbox far away

Across the angry sea;

The English Channel's scattered with

Silk and passementerie.

The silly horse within the shaft

One moment did remain;

And then the harness snapped, and he

Went flying through the rain;

And fell, a four-legged meteor,

Upon the coast of Spain.

First Voice.

"What makes that cab move on so fast

Wherein no horse I find?"

Second Voice.

"The horse has cut away before;

The cab's blown from behind."

Then just against the Harrow Road

I made one desperate bound—

A leprous lamp-post and myself

Lay mingled in a swound!

And cables snapped, and all things snapped;

When the next morn was grey,

The Telegraph appeared without

Its "Paris Day by Day."

PART III.

Oh, cheapness is a pleasant thing,

Beloved from pole to pole!

To get a thing at one-and-four,

For which your friend pays twopence more,

Is balm unto the soul.

And cheaper than that Hansom cab

Whose tale I've told thee thus,

Far cheaper it had been to take

The stately omnibus!

To take the stately omnibus

Where all together sit;

Each takes his ticket in his hands,

Obeys the Company's commands,

And pays his pence for it.

And if you would not find yourself

Wrecked in the Edgware Road,

Do not be vulgar and declare

You wish you may be blowed!