Each cove vas teazed with double duty,
To please his backers, yet play booty;[103]
Ven, luckily for Jem, a teller
Vos planted right upon his smeller;
Down dropped he, stunned; ven time vas called,
Seconds in vain the seconds bawled;
The mill is o'er, the crosser crost,
The loser's von, the vinner's lost!
Ri, tol, lol, &c.
The party assumed once more a lively air, and the glass was circulated so freely, that at last a final charge drained the ample bowl of its contents.
"The best of friends must part," said Dick; "and I would willingly order another whiff of punch, but I think we have all had enough to satisfy us, as you milling coves have it, Zory! Your one eye has got a drop in it already, old fellow; and, to speak the truth, I must be getting into the saddle without more delay, for I have a long ride before me. And now, friend Jerry, before I start, suppose you tip us one of your merry staves; we haven't heard your pipe to-day, and never a cross cove of us all can throw off so prime a chant as yourself. A song! a song!"
"Ay, a song!" reiterated King and the Magus.
"You do me too much honor, gemmen," said Jerry, modestly, taking a pinch of snuff; "I am sure I shall be most happy. My chants are all of a sort. You must make all due allowances—hem!" And, clearing his throat, he forthwith warbled
THE MODERN GREEK
(Not translated from the Romaic.)
Come, gemmen, name, and make your game,
See, round the ball is spinning.
Black, red, or blue, the colors view,
Une, deux, cinque, 'tis beginning,
Then make your game,
The color name,
While round the ball is spinning.
This sleight of hand my flat shall land
While covered by my bonnet,[104]
I plant my ball, and boldly call,
Come make your game upon it!
Thus rat-a-tat!
I land my flat!
'Tis black—not red—is winning.
At gay roulette was never met
A lance like mine for bleeding!
I'm ne'er at fault, at nothing halt,
All other legs preceding.
To all awake,
I never shake
A mag[105] unless I nip it.