How like he looks to a dog that begs
In abject sort upon two legs!
Good Mr. Knave, give me my due,
I like a tart as well as you,
But I would starve on good roast Beef,
Ere I would look so like a thief.
[Illustration: Brought back those Tarts]
The Knave brings back the tarts he stole.
The Queen swears, that is not the whole.
What should poor Pambo do? hard prest
Owns he has eaten up the rest.
The King takes back, as lawful debt,
Not all, but all that he can get.
[Illustration: And vow'd he'd steal no more]
Lo! Pambo prostrate on the floor
Vows he will be a thief no more.
O King your heart no longer harden,
You've got the tarts, give him his pardon.
The best time to forgive a sinner
Is always after a good dinner.
[Illustration]
"How say you Sir? tis all a joke—
Great Kings love tarts like other folk!"
If for a truth you'll not receive it,
Pray, view the picture, and believe it.
Sly Pambo too has got a share,
And eats it snug behind the chair.
[Illustration]
Their Majesties so well have fed,
The tarts have got up in their head.
"Or may be 'twas the wine!"—hush, gipsey!
Great Kings & Queens indeed get tipsey!
Now, Pambo, is the time for you:
Beat little Tell-Tale black & blue.