TO THE EDITOR OF BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY. MY DEAR SIR, I have just received the inclosed from Seaforth, in reply to an earnest supplication for news of your great City. You are aware that he has been bit by a mad Poet, and goes without his cravat. What is it all about? Yours, THOS. INGOLDSBY. Tappington, May 15. A ROW IN AN OMNIBUS. DOL-DRUM the Manager sits in his chair, -But Fiddle-de-dee sings clear and loud, Such a singer as he They'll all be screaming for Fiddle-de-de!' -Though Fiddle-de-dee sings loud and clear, The "glove won't fit!" I shall give an engagement to Fal-de-ral-tit!' The Prompter bowed, and he went to his stall, But scarce had he done When a 'row' begun, Such a noise was never heard under the sun. 'Fiddle-de-dee! Where is he? He's the Artiste whom we all want to see! Dol-drum!-Dol-drum! Bid the Manager come! It's a scandalous thing to exact such a sum For boxes and gallery, stalls and pit, And then fob us off with a Fal-de-ral-tit! Deuce a bit! We'll never submit ! Vive Fiddle-de-dee! à bas Fal-de-ral-tit!" Dol-drum the Manager rose from his chair, But he smoothed his brow, As he well knew how, And he walked on, and made a most elegant bow, And he paused, and he smiled, and advanced to the lights, In his opera-hat, and his opera-tights: 'Ladies and Gentlemen,' then said he, 'Pray what may you please to want with me?' 'Fiddle-de-dee! Fiddle-de-dee! Folks of all sorts and of every degree, Snob, and Snip, and haughty Grandee, And he puts his right hand on the side of his breast, And he says-says he, • We can't agree; His terms are a vast deal too costly for me. There's the rent, and the rates, and the sesses, and taxes I can't afford Fiddle-de-dee what he axes. If you'll only permit The Generous Public cried, 'Deuce a bit ! Dol-drum!-Dol drum! We'll none of us come. It's "No Go!"-it's "Gammon!"-it's "all a Hum!" You're a miserly Jew "Cock-a-doodle do! " He don't ask too much, as you know-so you do— It's a shame-it's a sin-it's really too bad You ought to be 'shamed of yourself-so you had!' Dol-drum the Manager never before In his life-time had heard such a wild uproar. Dol drum the Manager turn'd to flee; But he says-says he, 'Mort de ma vie! I shall nevare engage vid dat Fiddle-de-dee! Then all the gentlefolks flew in a rage, And they jumped from the Omnibus on to the Stage, Lords, Squires, and Knights, they came down to the lights, In their opera-hats, and their opera-tights, Ma'amselle Cherrytoes Shook to her very toes, She couldn't hop on, so hopped off on her merry toes. And the evening concluded' with 'Three times three!' 'Hip!-hip!-hurrah; for Fiddle-de-dee!' Dol-drum the Manager, full of care, With a troubled brow and dissatisfied air, Saddest of men, Sat down, and then Took from his table a Perryan pen, And he wrote to the 'News,' How MacFuze, and Tregooze, Lord Tomnoddy, Sir Carnaby Jenks of the Blues, And the whole of their tail, and the separate crews And make Dol-drum agree With Fiddle-de-dee, Who was not a bit better singer than he. Who, in B flat, or C, Or whatever the key, Could never at any time get below G, 'If they'd have him in Paris he'd not come to me!' The manager rings, And the Prompter springs To his side in a jiffy, and with him he brings A set of those odd-looking envelope things, Where Britannia, (who seems to be crucified.) flings Amongst Elephants, Quakers, and Catabaw Kings; And a taper and wax, And small Queen's heads, in packs, Which, when notes are too big, you're to stick on their backs. Dol-drum the Manager sealed with care The letter and copies he'd written so fair, And sat himself down with a satisfied air; Without delay He sent them away, In time to appear in our columns' next day! Dol-drum, the Manager, full of care, There was MacFuze, And Lieutenant Tregooze, And there was Sir Carnaby Jenks of the Blues, And the Tags, and the Rags, and the No-one-knows-whos; And the green-baize rose at the Prompter's call, And they all began to hoot, bellow, and bawl, And cry Cock-a-doodle,' and scream, and squall Dol-drum!-Dol-drum! Bid the Manager come!' You'd have thought, from the tones Of their hisses and groans, They were bent upon breaking his (Opera) bones. Pray what may you please to want with me?' 'Fiddle-de-dee! Fiddle-de-dee! We'll have nobody give us sol fa but He!' Manager Dol-drum says-says he (And he looked like an Owl in 'a hollow beech tree,') 'Well, since I see The thing must be, I'll sign an engagement with Fiddle-de-dee!' Then MacFuze, and Tregooze, And Jenks, of the Blues, And the Tags, and the Rags, and the No-one-knows-whos, Extremely delighted to hear such good news, Desist from their shrill 'Cock-a-doodle-dos.' 'Vive Fiddle-de-dee! Dol-drum, and He! They are jolly good fellows as ever need be! And so's Burlibumbo, who sings double D! And whenever they sing, why, we'll all come and see!' So, after all This terrible squall, Fiddle-de-dee 's at the top of the tree, And Dol-drum and Fal-de-ral-tit sing small. Now Fiddle-de-dee sings loud and clear And Ma'amselle Cherrytoes Dancing away to the fiddles and flutes, So here's an end to my one, two, and three; |