BRIDGET TROT AND TIMOTHY GREEN.
(For the Mirror.)
"'Tis a common tale,
An ordinary sorrow of man's life;
A tale of silent sufferings, hardly clothed
In bodily form."
WORDSWORTH.
Miss Bridget Trot, a "wo"-man was,
Of excellent repute,
Who kept a stand in Leadenhall,
And there disposed of fruit.
And though in features rather dark,
No fairer could be found;
For what she sold, like ringing gold,
When peeled, was always sound!
She had moreover notions high,
And thought herself above
The very low-ly common way
Of falling into love.
And therefore when to her his suit
A Snip did often press
With vows of love, she cut him short
At length, without re-dress.
Yet nothing odd was there in this
One case, it must be said;
For who that wish'd a perfect man
Could with a ninth part wed?
Not she for one, whatever he
Might do to make him smart,
And howsoe'er her saying "Nay"
Might add it to his heart.
'Tis very strange, (yet so it is,)
That vows should go for naught.
But she who strove to 'scape love's toils
Quite unawares was caught!
For though so hard to Snip at first,
At last it chanced that she
A sort of soft emotion felt
Towards one Timothy,
A butcher—Green by name, but red
In face, as was his cap,
And though he seldom tasted wine,
A port-ly sort of chap.
This man one day in passing by,
In taste for what she'd got,
Saw Biddy's stall—and 'twas her fate
To sell to him a lot!
She thought his manners very sweet,
He gave so fond a gaze;
(But dashing blades of such like trades
Have ever killing ways!)
And whilst he paid the coppers down,
He had the brass to say
Her fruit was sweet, but sweeter still
The apple of her eye.
Besides all this, he looked so neat
Whilst shouldering his tray;
So what with steel, et cetera,
Her heart was stole away!
Lo! shortly after both agreed,
They fixed the wedding day,
But long before that day arriv'd
He took to stop away!
From that same time her peace of mind
And comfort were at steak—
She did so lean to Mr. Green,
Her heart was like to break!
At last she went one morn to see
What he could be about,
And hoped, alone, to find him in,
But he had just popt out.
She ax'd, "Is Mr. Green at home?"
Of one who, with a laugh,
Replied, "He's not! but if you please
I'll fetch his better half."
"His what?" scarce uttered Bridget out,
With uttermost dismay;
And there she stopt, she could no more,
And nearly swoon'd away!
But when at length she was herself,
And saw her faithless clown.
She straightway went to blow him up,
But got a good set down!
"Oh, cold and faithless Tim," quoth she,
"You vowed you couldn't smother
Your burning love for me, but now
You're married to another!"
"Is this the way you treat me, sir?
Too cheaply was I bought!
I loved you dearly, but it seems
That that all went for naught."
She sighed, and gave one parting look,
Then tore herself away
From her false swain and Mrs. Green,
For ever and a day!
And very soon got very ill,
And very quick did die,
And very truly verified
Her love for Timothy!
W.R.H.