He sent for Mr. Whithair then, and I described "the swag,"
My Mackintosh, my sugar-tongs, my spoons, and carpet-bag;
He promised that the New Police should all their powers employ;
But never to this hour have I beheld that vulgar Boy!
Remember, then, what when a boy I've heard my Grandma' tell,
"BE WARN'D IN TIME BY OTHERS' HARM, AND YOU SHALL DO FULL
WELL!"
Don't link yourself with vulgar folks, who've got no fix'd abode,
Tell lies, use naughty words, and say they "wish they may be blow'd!"
Don't take too much of double X !—and don't at night go out
To fetch your beer yourself, but make the pot-boy bring your stout!
And when you go to Margate next, just stop and ring the bell,
Give my respects to Mrs. Jones, and say I'm pretty well!
HE very last guests have departed; The candles burnt into thin air; The ball-room is dark and deserted, And silent again is the square. The band, tired of playing and blowing,
Are wishing Herr Koenig good night, And Gunter's assistants are going, Assured that their plate is all right; And somebody says it is snowing,
And there's not one hack cab left in sight.
The page in the study is lying
Asleep on the dining-room chairs,
And the housemaids to slumber are trying,
And the butler is tipsy down stairs ;
And the love-birds, who long have been blinking,
Quite scared by the music and light,
And e'en the canaries are thinking,
At last, that it must be the night,
And, tired of chuffing and winking,
Are tucking their heads out of sight.
And she, the fair queen of the numbers
Who came to that beautiful ball,
Perhaps thinks now of me in her slumbers,
And perhaps horrid thought-not at all.
In nights of such unalloy'd pleasure
Why cannot existence be pass'd?
To laugh at all power and treasure,
If life could be always so fast;
To spend years in a Polka's gay measure,
And die of a Sturm-march at last!
I think that I made an impression,
Because in the course of the night,
Whilst polking, she made a confession,
That she liked to be held rather tight.
Then, what her mamma had just told her
Not minding, but, taking some ice,
Just putting a scarf on her shoulder,
Because the cold stairs were “ so nice!"
And afterwards, grown somewhat bolder,
We waltz'd down some wall-flowers twice.
When Vane coarsely said she was stunning,"
He wanted to stand in my shoes;
She gave me a deux temps twice running,
And threw over one of the Blues.
And then she got rid of her brother
So well, when the supper-time came ;
And then we kept by one another:
At one time our plate was the same,
A very long way from her mother,
Conceal'd by a panier du créme.
She told me she loved lobster salad,
And rode in the park every day,
And doted on Hayes's last ballad,
And Tennyson's "Queen of the May;"
And she pull'd cracker bonbons, and flirted,
And laugh'd when I made a vile pun :
And when all my wit I exerted,
Till the ladies the table deserted,
And she was, I think, the last one!
How dreadfully hot! I am tumbling
And tossing, and can't get to sleep;
And over the streets the dull rumbling
Of wheels is beginning to creep:
And all round the room I am whirling
The women and lights, and I'm dinn’d
By Koenig, who plays to their twirling
The Olga, and Bridal, and Lind,
And long tresses, no longer curling.
Are floating about in the wind.
I wish I could marry-it's shocking
That my income will not carry two; Oh dear, at my door there's a knocking, And I have not slept the night through! I must dress then as well as I can,
And trudge to that horrid Whitehall, The Treasury work is so heavy,
The salary, too, is so small;
And so there's an end to romancing ;-
Adieu to the Belle of the Ball!
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