I have had many happy years,
And tailors kind and clever,
But those young pantaloons have gone
Forever and forever!
And not till fate has cut the last
Of all my earthly stitches,
This aching heart shall cease to mourn
My loved, my long-lost breeches!
O. W. Holmes.
CCCLVI.
LOVE AND MURDER.
In Manchester a maiden dwelt,
Her name was Phbe Blown;
Her cheeks were red, her hair was black,
And, she was considered by good judges to be
by all odds the best looking girl in town.
Her age was nearly seventeen,
Her eyes were sparkling bright;
A very lovely girl she was,
And for about a year and a half there had been a young man
paying his attention to her, by the name of Reuben Wright.
Now Reuben was a nice young man
As any in the town,
And Phbe loved him very dear,
But, on account of his being obliged to work for a living,
he never could make himself agreeable to old Mr. and Mrs. Brown.
Her parents were resolved
Another she should wed,
A rich old miser in the place,
And old Brown frequently declared, that rather than have his
daughter marry Reuben Wright, he'd sooner knock him in the head.
But Phbe's heart was brave and strong,
She feared not her parents' frowns;
And as for Reuben Wright so bold,
I've heard him say more than fifty times that (with the exception of Phbe)
he did n't care a cent for the whole race of Browns.
So Phbe Brown and Reuben Wright
Determined they would marry;
Three weeks ago last Tuesday night,
They started for old Parson Webster's, determined to be united in the holy
bonds of matrimony, though it was tremendous dark, and rained like the old
Harry.
But Captain Brown was wide awake,
He loaded up his gun,
And then pursued the loving pair;
He overtook 'em when they'd got about half way to the Parson's, and then
Reuben and Phbe started off upon the run.