A LAMENT FOR BARTLEMY FAIR.
BY A SHOWMAN.
Oh! lawk; oh! dear; oh! crimeny me; what a downright sin and a shame,
To try to put down old Bartlemy Fair! I don't know who's to blame:
Whether it's the west-end nobs, or the city folks—confound 'em! I could cry with vexation;
But this I will say, if it's the latter, they ain't fit for their city-wation.
What is to become of all us poor showmen, as has embarked every penny we've got,
In learned pigs, and crocodiles, and sheep with two heads, and wax Thurtells, and what not?
It's werry unfair to make us an exception to the general rule of the nation;
You orts to consider our wested rights, as free-born Britons, and allow us "a compensation."
When you stopp'd the rich West Indy merchants from dealing in poor African niggers,
You allowed them twenty millions of money; and, surely, showing a few hinnocent wax figgers
Aint worse than stealing one's black feller creturs, and carrying 'em off, and treating 'em worse than swine;
And, let me tell you, a lamb with two tails is much more preferabler than a cat with nine.
Oh! dear; oh! dear; what is to become of us all, from Mr. Wombwell down to the penny peeps?
We're wuss off than the poor silenced muffin-men, or the poor unfortynat forbid-to-go-up-the-chimbly sweeps!
It's fine talking, taking to other businesses; and going out as lackeys and servants, ifegs!
Who, d'ye think, would take, as lady's maid or nurs'ry governess, poor Miss Biffin, without either arms or legs?
And what great duchess or countess would like to have walking behind her, in Regent Street,
With a powder'd head and long cane, poor Thomas Short, the Lincolnshire dwarf, as measures only three feet?
Or what gentleman in the Park, driving his cab on a Sunday afternoon, would choose
For his tiger, stuck up behind in top-boots and white gloves, the Nottingham youth, as stands 7 foot 3 in his shoes?
To say nothing of the indignity of the thing: for how is a man to go to submit to come down,
From being a Royal Red-Indian Prince, to nothing but a poor common-day-labouring clown?
And the Siamese twins, oh! Gemini, they might advertise in the Times for a cent'ry,
Before any merchant would take them into his counting-house, to keep his books by double entry.
And now Mister Bunn's given up Drury Lane to Mister Musard and his French and German crew,
What is the dancing elephant, and the performing lion, and the acting horses and dromedaries to do?
And the poor Albanians, with their red eyes and long hair so flowing and white?
By Jove, such news as this is enough to make every inch of it turn grey in a night.
And the Indian juggler, poor fellow! neat as imported from the coast of Delhi,—
He may swallow swords and daggers long enough before he's able to fill his belly!
We've all our ups and downs in this world, it's said—or, at least, used to be;
But "Marshall Mayor" wont leave so much as a poor single Up-and-down for we.
And one thing I must take the liberty to say, I don't see why the poor people's fairs
Should be put down and done away with, while the rich Fancy people are allowed to keep up theirs;
And as for the morality, it does seem rather funny to shut up Bartlemy Fair o' Mondays,
While they keep open their genteel wild-beast-show in the Regency Park o' Sundays,
Our booths are our homes; and we've nowhere to go to when these are taken,
They must recollect that the Learned Pig ain't a lord, like the Learned Bacon.
The learned pig may carry himself off to Newgate market—it is but just over the way,
And the alligator may indulge himself shedding crocodile tears for ever and a day:
The elephant may pack up his trunk; for Smithfield he must abandon:
And the mare with seven feet may cut her stick, for she hasn't a leg to stand on:
The wonderful calf with two heads had better pack up his traps and begone;
For the Lord Mayor hasn't no fellow-feeling only for calves with one.
The pelican had better go and peck his bowsum somewhere else, and not stop here in such distress,
A-bringing up his four little ones (with a drop of blood a-piece) to be only pelicans of the wilderness:
The industrious fleas may hop the twig as soon as they like, for one thing is very clear,
If they ain't off of their own accord, the Lord Mayor will soon help 'em off with a flea in their ear!
As for myself, I've made up my mind what to do; though, of course, I can't quite keep down my sensations,
In parting with a hanimal which I have so long looked on almost as one of my own relations;
But I shall sell my GIGANTIC DURHAM HEIFER (and so put an end to their noises and rows),
And then—as the next nearest trade—I shall take to Waccination, and go and live at Cowes!
Harper.
Bowman.
Platt.
Cooke.