What she said to the Knight, what she said to the bride, What she said to the ladies who stood by her side, What she said to the nice little boys in white clothes, Oh, nobody mentions,—for nobody knows; For the roof tumbled in, and the walls tumbled out, And the folks tumbled down, all confusion and rout, The rain kept on pouring, The flood kept on roaring, The billows and water-nymphs roll'd more and more in; Ere the close of the day All was clean washed away— One only survived who could hand down the news, A little old woman that open'd the pews; She was borne off, but stuck, By the greatest good luck. In an oak-tree, and there she hung, crying and screaming, And saw all the rest swallow'd up the wild stream in; In vain, all the week, Did the fishermen seek For the bodies, and poke in each cranny and creek; In vain was their search After ought in the church, They caught nothing but weeds, and perhaps a few perch; The Humane Society Tried a variety Of methods, and brought down, to drag for the wreck, tackles, But they only fish'd up the clerk's tortoise-shell spectacles.
Moral.
This tale has a moral. Ye youths, oh, beware Of liquor, and how you run after the fair! Shun playing at shorts—avoid quarrels and jars— And don't take to smoking those nasty cigars! —Let no run of bad luck, or despair for some Jewess-eyed Damsel, induce you to contemplate suicide! Don't sit up much later than ten or eleven!— Be up in the morning by half after seven! Keep from flirting—nor risk, warned by Rupert's miscarriage, An action for breach of a promise of marriage;— Don't fancy old fishes! Don't prig silver dishes! And to sum up the whole, in the shortest phrase I know, Beware of the Rhine, and take care of the Rhino!
And now for "Sunny Italy,"—the "Land of the unforgotten brave,"—the land of blue skies and black-eyed Signoras.—I cannot discover from any recorded memoranda that "Uncle Perry" was ever in Venice, even in Carnival time—that he ever saw Garrick in Shylock I do not believe, and am satisfied that he knew nothing of Shakspeare, a circumstance that would by no means disqualify him from publishing an edition of that Poet's works. I can only conclude that, in the course of his Continental wanderings, Sir Peregrine had either read, or heard of the following history, especially as he furnishes us with some particulars of the eventual destination of his dramatis personæ which the Bard of Avon has omitted. If this solution be not accepted, I can only say, with Mr. Puff, that probably "two men hit upon the same idea, and Shakspeare made use of it first."
FOOTNOTES:
[23] "Sardanapalus" and "Boots," the Zenith and Nadir of human society.