AN AUSTRALIAN ECLOGUE.
"The Pastoral, as a feature in English poetry, has long ceased to exist. The Arcadian characteristics, however, of our Australian colonies—recently brought to light—afford every excuse for its revival. Pope says something very clever about pastorals in connection with Theocritus, for which see his works, and find out the passage, if possible. A great many other writers have alluded to the same subject."—(See British Museum Catalogue, Vol. 1 to 398.)
BUGGINS.
Hail, gentle shepherd! thou whose only care
Has been, for so much by the month or share,
To tend the playful flock through plain and thicket—
(Of course, I mean since you obtained your ticket)—
And ne'er with sorrow moaned along the vale:
I beg your pardon, shepherd, I said "hail!"
MUGGINS.
Shepherd, you did; you needn't speak so loud;
You seem to be of your distresses proud,
And take of me a most mistaken view;
But stop a minute—have some kangaroo?
BUGGINS.
Shepherd, I thank you; take a pinch of snuff.
I'm somewhat peckish, though it's rather tough.
A little mustard—what you had to say—
I'm all attention—shepherd, fire away!
MUGGINS.
No swain more sad than I in all the run
(I hope you like the settlement)—not one!
Not that I pine for wealth or cities' din,
Or at the distance we've to go for gin:
Peaceful my lot—the frugal damper cakes
That simple-hearted Amaryllis bakes,
Season'd with pickled pork, my wants supply;
And calmly on my cow-skin couch I lie;
But for the thought—shepherd, I'm overcome—
Have you a case about you with some rum?
BUGGINS.
Shepherd, I drank the last a week ago,
In desperate attempts to drown my woe;
But while I polish off this kangaroo,
Tell me your dismal story—shepherd, do!
MUGGINS.
In distant London, leagues beyond the sea,
I was policeman Six, division B.
BUGGINS.
Oh, mighty Jove! I, too, was in the force—
A Twenty-One—you've heard of me, of course?
MUGGINS.
Familiar to mine ear the number sounds;
In Bedford Square I went my nightly rounds.
BUGGINS.
For years was Buggins known upon a beat
In the vicinity of Baker Street.
MUGGINS.
I loved a maid—a housemaid—Mary Ann—
They kept a page, three females, and a man.
BUGGINS.
I loved a housemaid, too—Matilda Jane—
A noble-hearted girl, though rather plain.
MUGGINS.
Would that were all my sorrowing heart might tell;
I loved a cook—Jemima Briggs!—as well.
BUGGINS.
Not you alone such double pangs must brook—
I too have known what 'tis to love a cook.
MUGGINS.
You know not yet what pangs my bosom tear—
I loved eight nursemaids in the self-same square.
BUGGINS.
Hearts too for me with mutual throb would beat,
In every other house in Baker Street.
MUGGINS.
Can Baker Street's cold western claims compare
With the staunch genial worth of Bedford Square?
BUGGINS.
Could vulgar Bedford venture to compete
With the gentility of Baker Street?
MUGGINS.
We needn't have a row—it's not worth while;
Let's test the question in the ancient style:
Let each in glowing terms, and decent grammar,
(As far as possible)—the praises clamour
Of the lost Paradise for which he sticks
Up as the champion; and we'll see which licks.
I'll back my Bedford Square at two to one
In bobs against your Baker Street—say done?
BUGGINS.
Done! But a question the arrangement shakes:
Where can a cove be found to hold the stakes?
MUGGINS.
Lo, Coorabundy comes! a native nigger—
He shall decide who cuts the ablest figure.
(Coorabundy is installed as umpire.)
Shepherd, begin, and do the best you can.
And don't exasperate the h in Hann.
BUGGINS.
What heav'n-born rapture, unalloy'd by pain,
Like eating drumsticks grill'd by 'Tilda Jane,
Except the something warm which fate allots,
Mix'd by the practised hand of Sairey Potts.
MUGGINS.
Prince Albert's cook—not he nor any man's—
Makes scallop'd oysters such as Mary Ann's:
A delicacy which I may say tops
Jemima Briggs's way of doing chops.
BUGGINS.
Ann Jinks, the very best of all the set,
Would bring me out my supper in the wet;
Many a time I've took it in the airy,
Getting my beer from Number Nine's maid—Mary.
MUGGINS.
I've had green peas in May from Thompson's Charlotte;
And beans as well, both French and common scarlet.
Rather than me (though Thompson was a snarler),
She'd let them go without things in the parlour.
BUGGINS.
When "grass" was selling at a pound a bunch,
Susan has cook'd me all there was for lunch:
Risking to say it must have been the cat—
Fancy a girl who'd go as far as that.
MUGGINS.
Jemima, when we took our walks in town,
Always put on her missis's best gown.
BUGGINS.
Louisa, knowing how quick linen dirts,
Gave me a dozen of her master's shirts.
MUGGINS.
Selina's savings kept me for a year,
In skittles, gin-and-water, pipes and beer.
COORABUNDY.
(Rousing himself from a lethargy
into which he has fallen),
You two big fools—you talkee here all night;
Black fellow got de stakes—him hold 'em tight.
(He decamps with the proceeds.)
A FAMILY EPISTLE,
FROM A CHINESE EMIGRANT TO HIS WIFE.
See plate (improved willow pattern) opposite.
Ka-lee-foe-nee, 8019th Summer of the Empire.
Feast of Con-fut-zee.
Beloved Tee-Tee,
According to my promise, oh, apple of my eye! I dip my brush in the ink-dish of love, to communicate my adventures in the land of the barbarian. Tee-Tee! think not I have forgotten thee—nor yet that it was those little domestic differences (which I look upon as gnats in the bright sunshine of our wedded happiness) which made me join that tremendous movement—now threatening the Celestial Empire with depopulation—and presenting to the imagination the terrible possibility of the Brother of the Sun and Moon (may his stomach extend!) being compelled to brush out his own pigtail!
Blame me not for leaving thee in the night secretly. I could not have borne a parting. I know thy love for me is such that, hadst thou known my intention, thou wouldst have become frantic—and I should have been quite overcome. My heart failed me as I stole past thy bedchamber door on tiptoe; my shins quivered with emotion when I thought of thy tiny gold-shodden foot; my cheek burned as thy delicate hand seemed to press against it; and when I pictured to myself thy long and graceful nails, I was as a man without eyes!
Enough, oh, Tee-Tee! This comes hoping you are quite well, as it leaves me at present—Fo be praised for the same!
Our labours have not yet been crowned with success. I speak not of the vulgar seeking after gold—to which motives the opponents of progress and light have basely attributed the Great Chinese Emigration Movement which has shaken the barbarian world to its foundation. Thou knowest better. If thou dost not, after all I have told thee, all I can say is that it is just like thee, for a stupid obstinate mule as thou art.
Our mission was to civilize the whiskered and shirt-collared heathen. The light of wisdom had been too long concealed from the outer world by the Great Wall. Thou mayst remark it was odd we never thought of civilizing them till we heard of their finding gold—gold limitless as the glories of the empire! here and in their other settlement of Aus-tra-lee-ah.
Such a remark, oh, Tee-Tee! would be just about as sensible as thy remarks usually are.
It was because the barbarians had found this gold they stood in need of our assistance more than ever. Could such people be expected to know the use of wealth; I ask—could they? And as for once in my life in addressing thee, I can have all the talk to myself—without waiting for thy doubtless illogical reply—I answer, No, they couldn't.
An Exraordinary Movement in China—or an alteration in "The Willow Pattern"—at last!!
It became our duty, at all hazards, to teach them. We resolved, even at the pain of leaving our homes and wives (it's no use thy getting into a passion, oh, Tee-Tee!), to go forth amongst them, and accept the presents of gold and treasures they would doubtless be too glad to lay at our feet, in exchange for that intellectual wealth which we alone are capable of dealing out with a layish hand. At any rate we could prevent their doing much mischief—by taking the treasures from them.
But they are such a set of fools!
Our words of wisdom they receive with mocking laughter, or by calling on their idols to send down curses on our eyes and limbs. So ignorant are they, that they have no fear of the Emperor before their eyes; and tell us, if we want gold we must dig for it.
And this is our reward! Of course digging, for a true-souled Chinaman, is out of the question. In the first place, we should have to cut our nails. In the second place, we should have to exert ourselves. In the third place, one process indispensable to the work of gold-seeking is called washing—a revolting idea!
The result is, that did we not, in our superior wisdom, know the value of rat and puppy (which the barbarians despise), the chop-sticks of your Poo Poo and his companions would be unoccupied.
We are not alone, however, in our misfortunes. There are several men here of a superior tribe—which I think I have heard called Dan-dees—who, like ourselves, have been trained in the ways of wisdom, to despise mere physical labour, and think only of Man's superiority as evidenced in their own persons; who came like ourselves, expecting to be received with rich gifts and open arms by the drudging savages, whose wilderness they had condescended to enlighten by their presence. These men are reviled and neglected because they do not like to soil their hands—and have never learnt to do anything!
My paper is out; and as, I dare say, thou hast already forgotten me, and taken up with that atrocious rascal, Tom Tom—to whom thou wilt probably hand this letter for a pipe-light, without having even looked at it—I need add no more than the signature of the unfortunate
POO POO.
TRAY AND THE DEUCE.