So stooping down, as needs he must,
Who cannot sit upright,

He grasp'd the mane with both his hands,
And eke with all his might.

His horse, who never in that sort

Had handled been before,
What thing upon his back had got
Did wonder more and more.

Away went Gilpin, neck or nought;
Away went hat and wig;
He little dreamt, when he set out,
Of running such a rig.

The wind did blow-the cloak did fly

Like streamer long and

gay,

Till, loop and button failing both,

At last it flew away.

Then might all people well discern
The bottles he had slung;

A bottle swinging at each side,
As hath been said or sung.

Cowper (1731-1800).

THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF

JOHN GILPIN.

(CONCLUDED.)

trice, a short time, an instant
reek'-ing, steaming
pit'-e-ous, causing pity
baste, to pour fat over meat whilst
roasting

bal'-co-ny, a sort of small gallery
outside a window
whit, the least bit

ac-cost', to speak to anyone
time'-ly, at a proper time
fore-bode', to foretell

come'-ly, good-looking

boot'-less, without profit or success
a-main', with all one's might
post'-boy, one who rides and drives
a carriage horse
girdle, a belt
rear, behind

high'-way-man, one who robs peo-
ple on the highway
pur-suit', a chase

guise, manner, appearance

The dogs did bark, the children screamed,
Up flew the windows all;

And every soul cried out, Well done!'
As loud as he could bawl.

Away went Gilpin- who but he ?

His fame soon spread around,
He carries weight!- he rides a race!
"Tis for a thousand pound!'

And still, as fast as he drew near,
"Twas wonderful to view,
How in a trice the turnpike men
Their gates wide open threw.

And now, as he went bowing down
His reeking head full low,
The bottles twain behind his back,
Were shatter'd at a blow.

Down ran the wine into the road,

Most piteous to be seen,

Which made his horse's flanks to smoke,
As they had basted been.

But still he seem'd to carry weight
With leathern girdle brac'd;
For all might see the bottle necks
Still dangling at his waist.

Thus all through merry Islington
These gambols he did play,
Until he came unto the Wash
Of Edmonton so gay.

And there he threw the Wash about,

On both sides of the

way,

Just like unto a trundling mop,

Or a wild goose at play.

At Edmonton his loving wife
From the balcony espied

Her tender husband, wond'ring much
To see how he did ride.

Stop, stop, John Gilpin !-Here's the house!' They all at once did cry;

'The dinner waits, and we are tir❜d.?

Said Gilpin- So am I!'

But yet his horse was not a whit
Inclin'd to tarry there;

For why? His owner had a house
Full ten miles off, at Ware.

So like an arrow swift he flew,
Shot by an archer strong;
So did he fly-which brings me to
The middle of my song.

Away went Gilpin out of breath,
And sore against his will,
Till at his friend the calender's
His horse at last stood still.

The calender, amaz'd to see

His neighbour in such trim,

Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate,

And thus accosted him.

What news? What news? Your tidings tell!
Tell me you must and shall-
Say why bareheaded you are come,
Or why you come at all.'

Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit,
And lov'd a timely joke;
And thus unto the calender,
In merry guise he spoke.

'I

came because your horse would come;
And, if I well forebode,

My hat and wig will soon be here,
They are upon the road.'

The calender, right glad to find
His friend in merry pin,
Return'd him not a single word,
But to the house went in.

Whence straight he came with hat and wig,
A wig that flow'd behind,
A hat not much the worse for wear,
Each comely in its kind.

He held them up, and in his turn
Thus show'd his ready wit:

'My head is twice as big as yours,
They therefore needs must fit.

But let me scrape

the dirt away

That hangs upon your face;

And stop and eat, for well you may

Be in a hungry case.'

Said John, "It is my wedding-day,
And all the world would stare,
If wife should dine at Edmonton,
And I should dine at Ware.'

So turning to his horse, he said,
'I am in haste to dine;

'Twas for your pleasure you came here, You shall go back for mine.'

Ah, luckless speech! ah, bootless boast!
For which he paid full dear;
For, while he spake, a braying ass
Did sing most loud and clear;

Whereat his horse did snort, as he
Had heard a lion roar,

And gallop'd off with all his might,
As he had done before.

Away went Gilpin, and away
Went Gilpin's hat and wig;
He lost them sooner than at first-
For why? they were too big.

Now Mrs. Gilpin, when she saw
Her husband posting down

Into the country far away,

She pull'd out half-a-crown :

And thus unto the youth she said, That drove them to the Bell, "This shall be yours, when you bring back My husband safe and well.'

The youth did ride, and soon did meet

John coming back amain,

Whom in a trice he tried to stop,
By catching at his rein :