And offered the bouquet, in exquisite bloom,

To Backsheesh, the daughter of Rahat Lakoum.

No maiden like Backsheesh could tastily cook

A kettle of kismet or joint of tchibouk,

As Alum, brave fellow! sat pensively by,

With a bright sympathetic ka-bob in his eye.

Stern duty compelled him to leave her one day—

(A ship's supercargo was brave Alum Bey)—

To pretty young Backsheesh he made a salaam,