“Runs with a right fa-lal-la,” observed Cary; “and would go nobly to a fiddle and a big drum.”
“Ye Spaniards, quake! our doughty Drake a royal swan is tested,
On wing and oar, from shore to shore, the raging main who
breasted:—
But never needs to chant his deeds, like swan that lies a-dying,
So far his name, by trump of fame, around the sphere is flying.”
“Hillo ho! schoolmaster!” shouted a voice from behind; “move on, and make way for Father Neptune!” Whereon a whole storm of raillery fell upon the hapless pedagogue.
“We waited for the parson's alligator, but we wain't for yourn.”
“Allegory! my children, allegory!” shrieked the man of letters.
“What do ye call he an alligator for? He is but a poor little starved evat!”
“Out of the road, old Custis! March on, Don Palmado!”
These allusions to the usual instrument of torture in West-country schools made the old gentleman wince; especially when they were followed home by—
“Who stole Admiral Grenville's brooms, because birch rods were dear?”
But proudly he shook his bald head, as a bull shakes off the flies, and returned to the charge once more.