Frederick he was a simple soul,
He pulled from his pocket a bulky roll,
And gave to Paley his hard-earned store,
A hundred and seventy pounds or more.
Paley Vollaire, with many a groan,
Gave Frederick all that he called his own,—
Two shirts and a sock, and a vest of jean,
A Wellington boot and a bamboo cane.
And Fred (entitled to all things there)
He took the fever from Mr. Vollaire,
Which killed poor Frederick West. Meanwhile
Vollaire sailed off to Madeira’s isle.
THE CAPTAIN AND THE MERMAIDS.
I sing a legend of the sea,
So hard-a-port upon your lee!
A ship on starboard tack!
She’s bound upon a private cruise—
(This is the kind of spice I use
To give a salt-sea smack).
Behold, on every afternoon
(Save in a gale or strong Monsoon)
Great Captain Capel Cleggs
(Great morally, though rather short)
Sat at an open weather-port
And aired his shapely legs.
And Mermaids hung around in flocks,
On cable chains and distant rocks,
To gaze upon those limbs;
For legs like those, of flesh and bone,
Are things “not generally known”
To any Merman Timbs.
But Mermen didn’t seem to care
Much time (as far as I’m aware)
With Cleggs’s legs to spend;
Though Mermaids swam around all day
And gazed, exclaiming, “That’s the way
A gentleman should end!
“A pair of legs with well-cut knees,
And calves and ankles such as these
Which we in rapture hail,
Are far more eloquent, it’s clear
(When clothed in silk and kerseymere),
Than any nasty tail.”
And Cleggs—a worthy kind old boy—
Rejoiced to add to others’ joy,
And, when the day was dry,
Because it pleased the lookers-on,
He sat from morn till night—though con-
Stitutionally shy.