To rush to the chamber—to find what was in it
And seize the eavesdropper—was the work of a minute;
To lift up and shake her, To rouse up and wake her
To consciousness—then in the Lodge-room to take her,
Was work for six brothers, who cried as they brought her,
'We've sought her and caught her!' My lord cried, 'My daughter!'
And sunk down as needing, himself, a supporter:—
In rush'd the tylers, Crusty old file-ers!
With anger 'a busting their blessed old bilers;'
Looking so grim at her, One raised his cimeter,
And to very short shift was advancing to limit her,
As 'Hold!' cried my lord, 'Hear your master—or rather,
'I'd speak to you all, as her judge—not her father!
'Perchance she knows nothing, and, if she will swear it,
'Her life shall be spared—I, your Master, will spare it!
'Oh, tell me, my child, what you've seen—what you've heard?'
The truthful girl sobb'd, 'Ev'ry act! ev'ry word!'
'Alas,' faltered he, 'you have seal'd your own doom!'
And 'Down with the spy!' cried each one in the room;
One raised a dagger, Some shouted 'Scrag her!'
Some raised a trap-door, and rush'd forward to drag her,
When a voice like a thunder-clap topp'd all the rest,
And Dick semi-dress'd Presented his breast
Before her, 'Strike here!' was his manly request:
'Strike me if you dare, By jingo, I swear
'Of her you shall touch not so much as a hair!
'I mean, my good sirs, Whatever occurs
'To your lives or mine, you shall not take hers!
'Her white arm how dare you place finger or fist on?'
And Dick, shooting out his own arm like a piston,
Knock'd over a senior warden who held her;
Sent spinning a middle-aged junior—his elder,
Hit out at a tyler, A blatant reviler,
Mash'd the mug of a masher call'd 'Tim' the Beguiler;'
'Look out!' cried another, 'The Saxon's a bruiser!'
And straightway got one on his 'conk'—a confuser!
A dozen unitedly Shouted excitedly
'Fell him, or else this young fellow will wallop us!'
Down went two deacons, Not very weak ones,
And a blow on the nose of the third burst a polypus,
When the hero (Dick now at the title arrives,
Denied him before he had handled his fives,
So many bawling, Reeling and sprawling,
For each brother knocked down another in falling),
Had 'flutter'd the Voices' from east to the west,
He paused like a warrior taking his rest,
Or Spartan who'd caused lots of Persians to topple, he
Took breath—as he did at a place call'd Thermopylæ.
Now outspoke my lord in a masterful way,
'A truce and a parley! I've something to say!
''Tis writ in our laws "If an eavesdropper pries
'And filches our secrets, he (mark the HE!) dies!"
'Now this is a she—therefore not an eavesdropper;
'To kill her, I say, would be highly improper
'Unless she objects. To do as directs
'The master (c'est moi!). Now mark what I say next!
'Let's make her a mason, And put a good face on
'The matter, believing she'll prove not a base one;
'I'll take on myself—ending doubt and confusion—
'To write to Great Queen Street and get absolution!'
Then upspake the stoker—A regular croaker,
'I'd like to know how you'll get over the poker!'
'Long ago,' said my lord—-the precise annus mundi
'I can't call to mind—regno Coli Jucundi,
('A monarch whose province was Pipo-cum-Fiddlum—
'A part of the region of Great Tarrididdlom)
'Sundry by-laws were pass'd for emergencies various
'Whereby the submission to brand is vicarious:
'Will some volunteer (Her substitute here)
'Submit to the crucial test? 'Tis severe!'
Dick on now spake, 'E'en to the stake
'I'll go, like a martyr, as proxy to take
'All over again for the dear lady's sake;—
'That is (here he tenderly glanced), she approving?'
'I do!' said the maiden, in accent quite loving.
'Agreed!' shouted all who'd been punch'd, 'Be it so!'
Glad, no doubt, of the chance to give Dick quid pro quo.
The lady withdrew, in well-guarded condition;
The deck's quickly clear'd for the second edition
Of flicks and of kicks, Pinching and licks,
Twingeing and singeing—but murmur of Dick's
None heard e'en a word; he was truly heroic,
And went through it all with a smile, like a stoic;
And when he—so rumpled from processes recent—
Retired to make himself decently decent,
Miss St. Ledger return'd—resolution her face on—
Took the oaths, and was enter'd a 'Prenticed Freemason!
Moral.
When you meet with a mason, just mention this lass;
I warrant she'll prove an excuse for a glass!
If he's a true brother, the toast is a favourite,
He's good for a bottle, but mind you don't pay for it!
You've but to edge her Name in, and pledge her,
The Lady Freemason—Miss Betty St. Ledger!
(By permission of the Author.)