^'A 
 
 
 "^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 Lately Publijhed^ price 55., or with Plates on 
 Indian, ']s, 6d. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED WITH ETCHINGS BY 
 GEORGE CRUIKSHANK 
 
 THE 
 
 EE AND THE fKSASP 
 
 A FABLE IN VERSE 
 
 BASIL MONTAGU PICKERING 
 
 196 PICCADILLY LONDON W.
 
 
 Jfckiil. 
 
 
 l<
 
 %■
 
 Lays of Ancient Babyland 
 
 to which are added 
 
 divers fmall Hiftories 
 
 not known to the 
 
 Ancients.
 
 Lays of Ancient Babyland 
 
 to which are added 
 DIVERS SMALL HISTORIES 
 
 not known to the 
 
 ANCIENTS 
 
 Dedicated, with much refpe5l, but without 
 permijjion^ to the 
 
 BABIES OF ENGLAND 
 
 LONDON 
 
 BASIL M. PICKERING, 196. PICCADILLY 
 
 1857
 
 F55(A 
 
 TO AUGUSTA MARY, 
 
 for whofe amiifement the following Jlories were 
 from time to time written^ 
 
 THIS LITTLE VOLUME, 
 
 in which they are now colleBed, is infcribed 
 for a memorial of the happy 
 days of her earliejl 
 childhood. 
 
 r 
 
 737590
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 TT 7HITTINGTON and his Cat i 
 
 "* The Three Wifhes 33 
 
 Little Red-riding-hood ^3 
 
 Jack the Giant-killer 55 
 
 Divers Small Histories 
 
 The Vain Moufe 79 
 
 Cock Robin and Jenny Wren ...... 83 
 
 The Proud Eagle 87 
 
 Young Lumpkin's Hysna 91 
 
 The Young Thrufhes 95 
 
 M. P., or the Magpie loi 
 
 The Pigeon and the Hen IC5 
 
 The Oyfter and the Mufcle 109
 
 I
 
 The True Hiftory of 
 
 MAISTER WHITTINGTON 
 
 AND HIS CAT. 
 
 As it is fpoken or fung in the Jireets of the 
 
 great city of London on the ninth 
 
 day of November. 
 
 B
 
 Whittinorton and his 
 
 Cat. 
 
 ' OD profper long our good Lord 
 Mayor, 
 And give him wealth and wit ! 
 A little wifdom too mote well 
 His judgement-feat befit. 
 
 Come liften all ye prentice lads. 
 Sore fet to drudge and faft. 
 
 How that good luck and induftrle 
 Will make a man at laft. 
 
 When our third Edvvard ruled the land, 
 
 A king of glorious fame. 
 An humble boy there lived alfo, 
 
 Dick Whittington by name. 
 
 Whitting- 
 ton.
 
 4 
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 s.norphan 
 
 His father and his mother too 
 
 boy, 
 
 Were laid beneath the fod : 
 
 
 But he was left, and all alone 
 
 
 The path of mifery trod. 
 
 deftitute. 
 
 No woollen hofe wore he, nor fhoes 
 
 
 Upon his fhivering feet ; 
 
 
 A tatter'd cloak was all he had 
 
 
 To ward the rain and fleet. 
 
 
 Yet, though his breaft was cold without, 
 
 
 His heart was warm within ; 
 
 
 And he grumbled not, for well he wot 
 
 
 That envy is a fin. 
 
 but induf- 
 
 And he would fight with all his might 
 
 trious. 
 
 To earn his daily bread : 
 
 
 Alas, to think how oft he went 
 
 
 All fupperlefs to bed ! 
 
 had heard 
 
 Now he had heard of London town. 
 
 great reports 
 of London. 
 
 And what the folks did there : 
 How aldermen did eat and drink. 
 
 
 And plenty had to fpare. 
 
 i 
 
 i
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 And how the ftreets were full of fhops, 
 And fhops were full of food ; 
 
 Of beef, and mutton, cheefe and ham. 
 And every thing that's good. 
 
 And how the men and women all 
 Were lords and ladles there ; 
 
 And little boys were rigg'd as fmart 
 As monkeys at a fair. 
 
 But what moft wonderful did feem. 
 
 Of all he had heard told. 
 Was how the ftreets of that great town 
 
 Were paved with folid gold. 
 
 Heyday ! thought he, if only I 
 Could get to that fine place ! 
 
 'Twould not be long ere I would change 
 My miferable cafe. 
 
 Now ftarted off for London town 
 
 Before the break of day. 
 He fared befide a waggoner 
 
 Who drove his team that way. 
 
 Refolved to 
 get there. 
 
 he makes his 
 way on foot.
 
 His joy to 
 
 behold that 
 
 land of 
 
 plenty. 
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 All day they trudged until the fun 
 
 Had funk, behind the hill ; 
 And when he rofe again next morn 
 
 He faw them trudging ftill. 
 
 At length a multitudinous fmoke 
 Hid half th' horizon round : 
 
 And fuch a fight of chimney-pots ! 
 Dick gaped with joy and ftound. 
 
 He thought how often he had lain 
 
 Beneath the cold damp air ; 
 While here was houfe-room fure for all, 
 
 And fires i'faith to fpare. 
 
 'Twere hard indeed if one fiiould need 
 
 A chimney-corner here : 
 And from the drays that block'd the ways 
 
 Small lack could be of beer. 
 
 'Twas thus thought Dick, and fo full quick 
 
 The waggoner he left ; 
 And was not long, ere thro' the throng 
 
 His nimble way he cleft.
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 7 
 
 Thro' ftreet, thro' lane, full faft he ran ; 
 
 His fubfe- 
 
 But marvell'd to behold 
 The ways all ftrown with dirt and ftone, 
 
 quent difap- 
 pointment ; 
 
 And not with folid gold. 
 
 
 And folks were not all lords he thought. 
 
 
 Nor ladies of degree : 
 
 
 For here were rags, and here were tags. 
 
 
 As in his own countrie. 
 
 
 Yet, where fuch plenty feem'd of all 
 
 when hun- 
 
 A hungry lad mote need. 
 
 gry and cold. 
 
 Tho' rags were there he did not care : 
 
 
 He could not fail to fpeed. 
 
 
 So at a fhop he made a ftop : 
 Before his well-fpread board 
 
 he is neither 
 fed by the 
 vidlualler ; 
 
 The vi6l'ller flood, in jolly mood ; 
 
 
 Dick thought he was a lord. 
 
 
 In cap ydight and waiftcoat white 
 
 
 He beckon'd folks within ; 
 
 
 While fumes arofe to tell the nofe 
 
 
 Of all that favoury bin. 

 
 8 
 
 nor covered 
 
 by the 
 
 clothier ; 
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 Dick's joy was great to fee the meat ; 
 
 So In he ran with hafte : 
 Alas ! roaft beef is nought but grief 
 
 To fuch as may not tafte. 
 
 The vidl'ller's eye right fcornfully 
 Scanned Dick from foot to head ; 
 
 Who begg'd, for love of God above, 
 A bit of meat and bread. 
 
 " For one fmall groat it may be bought ; 
 
 " rfaith it is not dear : 
 " But no iirloin withouten coin, 
 
 *' Nor room for beggars here." 
 
 Thereat a pamper'd cur rufh'd forth 
 
 And bit Dick's naked feet : 
 Who by the wrathful vidualler 
 
 Was fhoved into the ftreet. 
 
 Next fhivering in his tatter'd drefs 
 
 He view'd a clothier's ftore ; 
 But, as he was all pennilefs, 
 
 They drove him from the door.
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 Ah, tradefmen fleek ! ah, Chriftians meek ! 
 
 Why will ye fwell with pride, 
 When ragged want or wretched woe 
 
 Stands fhivering at your fide ? 
 
 Alas, poor boy ! what could he do ? 
 
 The bufy crowd fwept paft : 
 But all on felf Intent, or pelf. 
 
 No eye on him was caft. 
 
 He ftrove to beg : fome heard him not, 
 And fome would not believe : 
 
 Some heard him and believed him too. 
 But yet would not relieve. 
 
 Oh ! hunger is a galling thing, 
 Where nought is there to eat ; 
 
 But three times more it galleth fore 
 To ftarve midfl bread and meat. 
 
 Now juft as Dick all fpent and fick 
 
 Had laid him down to die, 
 A citizen of gentle mien 
 
 It chanced came walking by. 
 
 nor even 
 heeded by 
 any body. 
 
 Want moft 
 
 grievous in 
 
 the midft of 
 
 plenty. 
 
 At laft he is 
 noticed by a 
 merchant- 
 citizen.
 
 lO 
 
 who takes 
 
 him home, 
 
 and feeds 
 
 him. 
 
 This mer- 
 chant be- 
 comes his 
 friend. 
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 A merchant he of high degree. 
 With ruffles all of lace ; 
 
 And Nature's true nobility- 
 Was blazon'd in his face. 
 
 He up did pick and home led Dick, 
 
 And gave him food to eat : 
 I Then fent him to a clean warm bed. 
 Not back into the ftreet. 
 
 " Thank God ! for that I paff'd that way 
 " This night," the good man cried ; 
 
 " For had I walk'd another way, 
 " Poor boy ! he might have died." 
 
 The morning come, Dick early rofe. 
 And thank'd him from his heart ; 
 
 And told him how no friend on earth 
 He had to take his part. 
 
 " Then I'm your friend," the kind man 
 " And you fhall live with me : [cried. 
 And you fhall tend my merchandize, 
 " And keep my granary." 
 
 (C
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 How danced for joy the lucky boy, 
 
 To fee his alter'd pHght ! 
 He watch'd his granary by day, 
 
 And lock'd it faft by night. 
 
 Now flored within this granary, 
 Were corn and wine and oil, 
 
 And cheefe and other precious things 
 Which rats and mice do fpoil. 
 
 So there with Dick ydwelt a cat ; 
 
 A tabby cat was fhe : 
 As ileek and foft, and eke as fat, 
 
 As any cat could be. 
 
 And fhe about his legs would purr. 
 And on his knees would fit ; 
 
 And every meal he took, for her 
 He faved a dainty bit. 
 
 And not a moufe came near her houfe 
 
 But fwallow'd was alive : 
 And not a rat but felt her pat : 
 
 No wonder fhe did thrive ! 
 
 I I 
 
 and employs 
 him in liis 
 granary ; 
 
 where there 
 lived a cat. 
 
 of focial 
 temper. 
 
 and high 
 quality.
 
 12 
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 The birth 
 
 Now fcarce three moons had waned and 
 
 of a kitten : 
 
 fill'd, 
 
 
 Since Dick's lone hours fhe cheer'd. 
 
 
 When at her fide, as Heaven will'd, 
 
 
 A kitten there appear'd. 
 
 and Dick's 
 
 Then Dick's delight was doubled quite ; 
 
 twofold de- 
 light there- 
 after. 
 
 For one may well avouch. 
 Whatever fun there was in one 
 
 
 In two was twice as much. 
 
 This kitten's 
 
 All black and red this kitten's head 
 
 furpaffing 
 beauty. 
 
 Look'd like a polifh'd ftone : 
 All red and black this kitten's back 
 
 
 Like tortoifefhell it fnone. 
 
 
 Full fure I am that well its dam 
 
 
 Might dote on fuch a kit : 
 
 
 The very rats that flee from cats 
 
 
 Would ftand and flare at it. 
 
 and moft 
 
 Its tail it whilk'd and leapt and frifk'd. 
 
 pleafant hu- 
 mour. 
 
 In weather fair and foul : 
 Or cold, or hot, it matter'd not 
 
 
 To fuch a merry foul.
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 13 
 
 But who could fee fuch joyful glee 
 
 And not be joyous too ? 
 So Dick forgot his forry lot 
 
 And laugh'd as others do. 
 
 Which when the merchant faw, and how 
 
 The kitten it was grown. 
 Of his free gift to Whittington 
 
 He gave it for his own. 
 
 Dick ac- 
 quires his 
 firft pro- 
 perty.
 
 PART II. 
 
 COME liften all, both great and fmall, 
 Of high and low degree ; 
 That ye may know this true ftory 
 And live in charity. 
 
 As wealth by wafte and idle tafte 
 
 Soon falls to penury, 
 So fmall eftate becometh great 
 
 By luck and induftry. 
 
 Content then be in poverty, 
 
 In wealth of humble mind ; 
 Like children of one family 
 
 To one another kind. 
 
 This merchant now in foreign parts 
 A venture fain would make ; 
 
 And all the folk of his houfehold 
 Were free to fhare the ftake. 
 
 The venture 
 of the mer- 
 chant
 
 i6 
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 joined by 
 each of his 
 domeftics. 
 
 Dick's jeft- 
 ing offer 
 
 to the fur- 
 prife of all 
 
 taken in 
 
 earneft by 
 
 the Captain. 
 
 One rifk'd a fhilling, one a groat, 
 
 And one a coin of gold ; 
 And every one his flake anon 
 
 To the fhip's captain told. 
 
 Then half in jeft, and half in fhame, 
 Dick fetch'd his kitten down : 
 I too," he to the captain cried, 
 Will venture all my own." 
 
 cc 
 
 The cat is 
 taken aboard. 
 
 cc 
 
 The fervants laugh'd : Dick would have 
 And therefore laugh'd the more ; [wept, 
 
 But foon they ftared for wonderment 
 Who laugh'd fo loud before. 
 
 For now the Captain, " Done/' he cried, 
 
 " A bargain by my fay :" 
 And call'd the fhip's-mate in a trice, 
 
 To flow the cat away. 
 
 He came fo quick, no time had Dick 
 
 To countervail his joke : 
 So all aboard poor Pufs was ftored 
 
 Among the fea-going folk.
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 17 
 
 Now from her mooring, all ataut. 
 
 Put off at turn of tide, 
 Adown the river's ebbing flood 
 
 The gallant bark did glide. 
 
 And, like fome heavenward-foaring bird, 
 
 She faced the open feas ; 
 And feem'd as fick of land to fpread 
 
 Her wings before the breeze. 
 
 Then, as fhe flew, Pufs fetch'd a mew, 
 
 As if to fay — poor me ! 
 To think that I a land-bred cat 
 
 Should thus be preff'd to fea ! 
 
 But, ere a week was paft and gone. 
 He changed this plaintive tone, 
 
 And, like a jolly failor-boy, 
 Purrd gaily up and down. 
 
 For lean and fat a fhip-board cat 
 He found hath both to fpare ; 
 
 And legs by hofts for rubbing polls 
 Are always lounging there, 
 
 D 
 
 The fhip 
 
 fails. 
 
 The cat at 
 fea.
 
 i8 
 
 i 
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 
 And then he oft would run aloft. 
 
 
 And juft look out to fea ; 
 
 
 Nor e'er a boy could fcream ahoy 
 
 
 In fhriller note than he. 
 
 The ftiip's 
 
 The frefh wind blew ; the light bark flew, 
 
 courfe. 
 
 And clear'd the channel's mouth ; 
 
 
 Through Bifcay's bay then cut her way. 
 
 
 And bore towards the South. 
 
 Bound for 
 
 For flie was bound for Afric ground. 
 
 Africa. 
 
 Where wretched negroes dwell ; 
 
 
 Who wafte their days in idle ways. 
 
 
 As I am loth to tell. 
 
 
 Nathlefs the foil withouten toil 
 
 
 God's gracious bounty yields ; 
 
 
 And gum drops free from every tree 
 
 
 Along the funny fields. 
 
 
 And we are told how dufl of gold 
 
 
 Stains all the river fands : 
 
 
 And huge beafls fbed their ivory tufks 
 
 
 About the defert lands.
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 19 
 
 Now what is not with trouble got 
 
 Is feldom kept with care : 
 For forefight and economy 
 
 To idlefle ftrangers are. 
 
 So thefe poor fouls their goodly {lores, 
 
 Not needed for the day, 
 For trifles and for tromperie 
 
 They barter all away. 
 
 Three days, three nights our gallant fhip 
 Her fouthward courfe had fteer'd. 
 
 When o'er her larboard at the dawn 
 Saint Vincent's cape appear'd. 
 
 Still fouthward yet three days three nights 
 
 Her fteady prow fl:ie bore ; 
 But when again Sol gilt the main 
 
 Was fpied Marocco's fhore. 
 
 Now fliouts of joy and bufy noife 
 
 Salute the rifmg day : 
 The coail was made, the fhip was ftay'd. 
 
 And anchor'd in the bay. 
 
 Theunthrift- 
 
 inefs of 
 the negroes. 
 
 The fhip 
 
 fails pall the 
 
 cape of St. 
 
 Vincent ; 
 
 anchors off 
 
 the coaft of 
 
 Marocco.
 
 20 
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 The won- 
 derment of 
 the negroes. 
 
 Their king 
 and queen 
 
 As when a ftranger hawk, that long 
 
 Hath foar'd in middle air, 
 Borne earthward on a tree alights. 
 
 And makes his ftation there ; 
 
 The myriad tenants of the grove 
 Would fain his purpofe know ; 
 
 And flock around, yet hold aloof 
 For fear to meet a foe : 
 
 'Twas thus the negroes throng'd the beach, 
 
 To view a fhip at fea : 
 While fome drew down their light canoes ; 
 
 What mote the ftrange bark be ? 
 
 Or friend — or foe ? They long'd to know. 
 Yet durft not venture near : 
 
 Till foon the boat was all afloat. 
 And off to lay their fear. 
 
 Afront were feen a king and queen. 
 
 Whom all the reft obey'd : 
 And all the good things of the land 
 
 Belong'd to them, 'twas faid.
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 21 
 
 Which when the captahi heard, and how 
 
 They had an ample hoard. 
 Their companie requefted he 
 
 To dine with him on board. 
 
 invited by 
 the Captain 
 
 Now, wafted o'er the azure lake. 
 The king and eke his queen. 
 
 Behold them feated on the deck : 
 The captain fat between. 
 
 go on board. 
 
 But ere the dinner it was ferved. 
 While yawn'd the king for meat, 
 
 Juft to divert the royal mind, 
 Pufs rubb'd againft his feet. 
 
 Pufs falutes 
 his Majefty 
 after Euro- 
 pean fafliion. 
 
 Now you muft know the royal toe 
 It ticklifh was to touch : 
 
 But Pufs rubb'd he fo daintily. 
 The king he liked it much. 
 
 
 Then to his bride he fpake afide. 
 
 And e'en was fpeaking yet. 
 When lo ! — the platter came, — whereat 
 
 The reft he did forget. 

 
 22 
 
 The dinner. 
 
 Pufs joins 
 the caroufal. 
 
 his plea- 
 fan try. 
 
 The royal 
 whim 
 
 indulged at 
 much coft. 
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 Now both did eat their fill of meat. 
 
 As fuiteth royalty : 
 No lack was there of the fhip's beft fare. 
 
 And grog flow'd copioufly. 
 
 And both did quaff, and both did laugh. 
 
 And both fang merrily : 
 Till Pufs could flay no more away. 
 
 But came to join the glee. 
 
 His tail he whifk'd, and leapt and frifk'd. 
 
 As he was wont before : 
 Whereat the king and eke the queen 
 
 For very mirth did roar. 
 
 Then up he gat, and fware an oath — 
 
 That, for fo droll a thing, 
 In barter, of his choicefl goods 
 
 A fhipload he would bring. 
 
 Thereat the captain — " Done," he cried 
 
 " A bargain by my fay !" 
 And fent his whole fhip's-company 
 
 To fetch the goods away.
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 23 
 
 Now laugh'd the king and laugh'd the 
 And laugh'd the captain he : [Queen, 
 
 A bargain ftruck at feftive board 
 Doth pleafe (6 mightily. 
 
 The goods were brought, the fhip was 
 And ftow'd away full tight, [fraught. 
 
 The king and queen, they drank till e'en, 
 And flept on board that night. 
 
 The captain rofe at early dawn 
 And call'd to th' king anon : 
 
 " This cat is thine, this cargo's mine ; 
 And now I muft begone." 
 
 The king awoke and waked the queen. 
 
 Who flept fo heavily. 
 That full ten minutes pafT'd away. 
 
 Before that fhe could fee. 
 
 A merry 
 night. 
 
 The next 
 morning. 
 
 Then clafping Pufs within her arms 
 She nurfed him like a child. 
 
 The king his humour now was fad ; 
 Nathlefs the monarch fmiled. 
 
 The king's 
 maudlin 
 humour.
 
 24 
 
 The king 
 
 and queen 
 
 depart with 
 
 pufs. 
 
 The fhip 
 weighs 
 anchor. 
 
 and fails 
 homeward. 
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 Then down the vefTel's fide he ftepp'd, 
 And down the queen ftepp'd fhe. 
 
 And Pufs was handed down perforce 
 To join their company. 
 
 Alongfide lay the king's canoe. 
 Well mann'd with negroes ten ; 
 
 Who fwift row'd off the royal pair. 
 With Pufs all fnug between. 
 
 Then fung the Captain — " all hand's up, 
 
 The anchor haul amain : 
 Unfurl the fails, and point the prow 
 
 For Britifh lands again." 
 
 Tis done : from out the tranquil bay 
 
 Our goodly vefTel glides ; 
 And, homeward bound, on Ocean's back 
 
 Right gallantly fhe rides.
 
 PART III. 
 
 "jVT O W when the merchant gave to Dick 
 ■^ ^ That kitten for his own. 
 No thing he had alive or dead 
 On earth fave it alone. 
 
 Dick's whole 
 eftate. 
 
 And To enamour'd had he grown 
 
 Of this his property, 
 That footh his heart did forely fmart 
 
 When Pufs was fent to fea. 
 
 His regret at 
 its lofs ; 
 
 Then all was lonely as before ; 
 
 Again he rued his plight : 
 He moped in folitude all day. 
 
 And lay awake all night. 
 
 So difmal and fo defolate 
 The granary now it feem'd. 
 
 He long'd in the green fields to be, 
 And where the funfhine gleam'd. 
 
 His melan- 
 choly vein. 
 
 and way- 
 ward fancy.
 
 26 
 
 He deferts 
 his truft. 
 
 and wanders 
 
 into the 
 
 fields. 
 
 The Lord 
 Mayor's day. 
 
 Bow bells 
 
 heard by 
 Dick. 
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 Alas ! how weak our nature is 
 
 Its cravings to refift : 
 For Dick betray'd his mafter's truft 
 
 To follow his own lift. 
 
 He ftroll'd abroad into the fields, 
 He knew not where nor why ; 
 
 Regardlefs of his duty quite 
 About the granary. 
 
 Now as it chanced the new Lord Mayor 
 
 Of London, that fame day. 
 To meet the king at Weftminfter 
 
 In ftate had ta'en his way. 
 
 With fuch a charge the city-barge 
 
 Did proudly flaunt along : 
 And the bells of Bow were nothing flow 
 
 To greet him with — dingy dong. 
 
 While truant Dick all fad and fick 
 
 Was wandering in defpair, 
 Hark ! hark ! the mufic of Bow-bells 
 
 Came wafted on the air.
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 They feem'd to fay — Turn Whit-ting-ton . 
 
 Again turn Whit-ting-ton : 
 And when he liften'd ftill, they faid — 
 
 Lord May -or of Lon-don. 
 
 Again he heard the felf-fame words 
 
 Repeated by the chimes ; 
 Yet trufted not, till he had heard 
 
 The fame an hundred times. 
 
 27 
 
 What they 
 
 fcemed to 
 
 fay. 
 
 " It muft be fo : and I will go 
 
 Back to my granary. 
 Oh fhame ! to be fo falfe while he 
 
 Was true and kind to me." 
 
 His repent- 
 ance and 
 return. 
 
 He turn'd, and reach'd the granary 
 
 Before the fall of day : 
 And not a living foul e'er knew 
 
 That he had run away. 
 
 This foolifh prank he forely rued ; 
 
 But now that it was o'er. 
 And he all right again, he vow'd 
 
 He ne'er would do fo more. 
 
 his good 
 refolves.
 
 28 
 
 rewarded by 
 
 peace of 
 
 mind. 
 
 His pro- 
 phetic 
 dream. 
 
 A vifiter 
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 And fo that night In peace he flept, 
 
 And fo to joy he rofe : 
 But while he flept, he thought he trod 
 
 Upon the Lord Mayor's toes. 
 
 Patience — patience ! my little boy ; 
 
 Take heed to fave your fkin : 
 The Lord Mayor is a portly man, 
 
 And thou but fmall and thin. 
 
 Beware of cage, beware of cat 
 
 That tails hath three times three : 
 
 For he may ftrip, and he may whip. 
 And he may 'mprifon thee. 
 
 All In his fleep this fage advice 
 Seem'd whifper'd to his ear : 
 
 Nathlefs right on the Lord Mayor's toe 
 Lie ftood withouten fear. 
 
 Again the day had pafT'd away. 
 And night was creeping o'er, 
 
 When fuch a knock as mote him fhock 
 Was thunder'd at his door.
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 29 
 
 " Hallo ! hallo ! why batter fo ?" 
 In trembling voice he fung : 
 
 Whereat wide-open flew the door. 
 And in the Captain fprung. 
 
 brings ti- 
 dings of his 
 luck. 
 
 " Good luck, good luck ! my jolly buck! 
 
 Why whimper there and whine ? 
 Cheer up now Maifter Whittington, 
 
 For — all the cargo 's thine." 
 
 
 But Dick was fo much ufed to woe, 
 He dared not truft on weal : 
 
 Nor had he zefl to point a jeft 
 To roufe the failor's peal. 
 
 His incredu- 
 lity. 
 
 Till foon the houfehold made aware 
 Came rattling at the door. 
 
 And greeted Maifter Whittington, 
 Who was poor Dick before. 
 
 The con- 
 gratulations 
 of the houfe- 
 hold. 
 
 They led him forth a man of worth. 
 And humbly call'd him Sire ; 
 
 And placed him in a huge arm-chair 
 Before the merchant's fire. 

 
 30 
 
 The virtue 
 of riches. 
 
 His aftive 
 induftry. 
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 The good man heard the rumour'd word 
 
 And eke his daughter fair ; 
 And both ran ftraight to where he fate 
 
 All in this huge arm-chair. 
 
 'Twas then the merchant laugh'd aloud, 
 And then the maiden fmiled : 
 
 And then the fervants bow'd to him 
 They had before reviled. 
 
 For Poverty may blamelefs be. 
 
 Yet is an unbleft thing ; 
 And wealth, for all that good men preach. 
 
 Doth fure obeifance bring. 
 
 This truth found Dick, who grew full 
 Into an honour'd man ; [quick 
 
 Yet was he loth to let his luck 
 Abide where it began. 
 
 So join'd he jolly venturers 
 
 In every good emprife ; 
 It was no niggard fhare he flaked 
 
 In all their argofies.
 
 Whittington and his Cat. 
 
 All lucky he came off at fea ; 
 
 But luckier far on land, 
 Whenas the merchant's daughter fair 
 
 Gave him her heart and hand. 
 
 Next he became an Alderman, 
 And Lord Mayor before long : 
 
 And then — oh ! how the bells of Bow 
 Did greet him with ding-dong. 
 
 E'en on that day they feem'd to fay 
 
 Lord May-or of Lon-don : 
 But when he liften'd ftill they faid 
 
 Sir Rich-ard Whit-ting-ton. 
 
 Then thought he on the lucklefs lad 
 That fwept the granary floor ; 
 
 Nor ever in the pride of wealth 
 Did he forget the poor. 
 
 And fo God fave our good Lord Mayor, 
 And give him wealth and wit : 
 
 But never let a prentice-lad 
 Dick Whittington forget. 
 
 31 
 
 rewarded. 
 
 His honours. 
 
 His charity.
 
 THE THREE WISHES. 
 
 A Lay fung infmall Families during the Moon 
 
 which follows next to that which is 
 
 known as the Honey -moon.
 
 The Three Wifhes. 
 
 N wedlock once ('twas years 
 agone) 
 Were join'd a fimple pair ; 
 The man in footh was wondrous poor. 
 The woman wondrous fair. 
 
 What wonder then that they fhould love, 
 
 As none e'er loved before ; 
 And tho' few worldly goods they had. 
 
 They coveted no more. 
 
 For woman is a generous thing, 
 
 And loves for love alone ; 
 And man he loves for beauty's fake. 
 
 And dotes on flefh and bone. 
 
 Love is not 
 covetous. 
 
 but, whe- 
 ther wo- 
 man's, or 
 man's.
 
 36 
 
 The l^hree WiiTies. 
 
 confifts not 
 
 with ftarva- 
 
 tion ; 
 
 But flefh and bone they mufl: be fed, 
 
 As all the world doth know ; 
 Withouten food the lovelieft flefh 
 
 
 Moft hideous foon doth grow. 
 
 
 Nor bone will thrive on love alone, 
 
 
 If bread and meat it lacks ; 
 
 
 Withouten food, the ftronger love. 
 
 
 The weaker bone doth wax. 
 
 and is per- 
 
 ill'd by idle- 
 
 neis. 
 
 Now three weeks v/edded had they been. 
 And though he was fo poor, 
 
 
 The man, who had no goods within, 
 
 
 Scarce pafTed without the door. 
 
 
 The woman loved him ftill fo much. 
 
 
 She wifh'd for nought inftead ; 
 
 
 Yet did fhe pine, each night to go 
 
 - 
 
 All fupperlefs to bed. 
 
 
 One night as o'er the hearth they fat, 
 
 
 The embers glowing bright. 
 
 
 My dear, quoth he, moft fair by day 
 
 
 Thou'rt fairer ftill by night !
 
 The Three Wiflies. 
 
 37 
 
 I too, quoth fhe, do love thee now 
 As ne'er I loved before ; 
 
 Yet, were I not fo hungry, I 
 
 Methinks fhould love thee more. 
 
 which in- 
 duces want. 
 
 Alas, fald he, that poverty 
 
 Should fuch fond hearts betide ! 
 
 I fain would work, — but love thee fo, 
 I cannot leave thy fide : 
 
 I wifh that we were very rich ! 
 
 She anfwer'd, — I am thine : 
 And, though I never cared for wealth, 
 
 Thy wiflies fliall be mine. 
 
 Scarce had they fpoke when on the hearth 
 
 Appear'd a little fay : 
 So beautiful fhe was, the room 
 
 It fhone as bright as day. 
 
 Then waving thrice her lily hand, 
 In filver tones fhe fpake ; — • 
 
 Thrice may ye wifli what wifli ye pleafe. 
 And thrice your wifli fhall take. 
 
 difcontent. 
 
 and unavail- 
 ing wifhes : 
 
 of which 
 
 even the full 
 
 indulgence
 
 38 
 
 The Three Wifhes. 
 
 would end 
 in folly. 
 
 I am your guardian fay, fhe faid, 
 
 And joy to fee your love : 
 What would ye more to make you bleft 
 
 As fpirits are above ? 
 
 The beauteous fay then vanlfhing, 
 The man he kifT'd his wife ; 
 
 And fwore he never was before 
 So happy in his life. 
 
 Now fhall I be a lord, faid he, . 
 
 A bifhop, or a king ? 
 We'll think it o'er to night, nor wifh 
 
 In hafte for any thing. 
 
 Be it, faid fhe ; to-morrow then 
 We'll wifh one wifh, my dear : 
 
 In the meantime, I only wifh 
 We had fome pudding here. 
 
 Ah ! lucklefs wifh ! upon the word, 
 A pudding ftraightway came : 
 
 At which the man wax'd high with rage. 
 The woman low with fhame.
 
 The Three Wifhes. 
 
 39 
 
 And as fhe hid her blufliing eyes, 
 And croLich'd upon a ftool ; 
 
 The man he rofe and ftamp'd his foot, 
 And curfed her for a fool. 
 
 Then folly 
 begets anger; 
 
 He flamp'd his foot, and clench'd his fift, 
 And fcarce refrained from blows : 
 
 A pudding ! zounds, cried he, I wifh 
 You had it at your nofe ! 
 
 Up rofe the pudding as he fpake, 
 
 And, like an air-balloon, 
 Was borne aloft in empty fpace, 
 
 But oh ! it fettled foon : 
 
 Too foon it fettled on the nofe 
 
 Of his unhappy wife : 
 Alas ! how foon an angry word 
 
 Turns harmony to ftrife ! 
 
 For now the woman fobb'd aloud 
 
 To feel the pudding there ; 
 And in her turn was angry too, 
 
 And call'd the man a bear. 
 
 and anger 
 ftrife.
 
 40 
 
 The Three Wifhes. 
 
 followed by 
 
 remorfe and 
 
 fhame. 
 
 But when their anger had burnt out. 
 
 Its afh remain'd behind ; 
 Remorfe and fhame that they had been 
 
 So foolifh and fo bhnd. 
 
 The man brake filence firft, and faid, — 
 
 Two wifhes now are gone, 
 And nothing gain'd ; but one remains. 
 
 And much may ftill be done. — 
 
 Oh were It fo ! but I have gain'd 
 What much I wifh to lofe — 
 
 The woman blurted, as fhe faw 
 The pudding at her nofe. 
 
 Then ofF the pudding flew amain. 
 
 And roll'd into the difh : 
 For fhe in footh unwittingly 
 
 Had wifh'd the other wifh. 
 
 Now when the man faw what was done, 
 
 His choler quick returned ; 
 But when he look'd into her face. 
 
 With love again he burn'd.
 
 The Three Wifhes. 
 
 41 
 
 For now fhe fmiled as fhe was wont, 
 And feem'd (o full of charms, 
 
 That all unmindful of the paft 
 He rufh'd into her arms. 
 
 Oh ! how I joy thou'rt not, ihe faid. 
 Nor bifhop, king, nor lord ! 
 
 I love thee better as thou art, 
 I do, upon my word ! 
 
 And I, faid he, do dote on thee : 
 For now the pudding's gone. 
 
 There's not a face in any place 
 So pretty as thine own ! 
 
 But as we have the pudding here, 
 'Tis all we want, — faid fhe, 
 
 Suppofe we juft fit down awhile 
 And eat it merrily. 
 
 With all my heart, my love, faid he. 
 
 For I am hungry too : 
 From this time forth, I'll ftrive to earn 
 
 Enough for me and you. 
 
 But love 
 
 confifts with 
 
 a lowly 
 
 ellate. 
 
 fo there be 
 content- 
 ment. 
 
 and induftry.
 
 42 
 
 The Three Wiflies. 
 
 Moral. 
 
 The fay then reappear'd, and fpake 
 
 
 The moral of my fong : — 
 
 
 " Man wants but little here below, 
 
 
 Nor wants that little long." 
 
 
 Love is a heavenly prize in footh. 
 
 
 But earthborn flefh and bone, 
 
 
 If they would love, muft live as well. 
 
 
 And cannot love alone. 
 
 
 Then ftrive to earn the bread of life. 
 
 
 And guard your body's health ; 
 
 
 But mark — enough is all you want, 
 
 
 And competence is wealth. 
 
 
 And to that happy foul, who love 
 
 
 With competency blends. 
 
 
 Contentment is a crown of joy ! — 
 
 
 And here the moral ends.
 
 A brief Account of the fad Accident 
 which befel 
 
 LITTLE RED-RIDING-HOOD 
 
 fhowing plainly what brought 
 about the fame. 
 
 A Lay of the Nurfery, as chanted tojimple 
 
 Miific by the iady-governejfes 
 
 of the olden time.
 
 Little Red-riding-hood. 
 
 LITTLE girl once lived in a 
 
 cottage near a tree, 
 A pretty little girl fhe was, and 
 
 good as fhe could be. 
 Her father often kiff'd her ; and her 
 
 mother loved her fo. 
 That if the king had pledged his crown 
 
 for her, fhe had faid — no. 
 Her grandmother, who lived in a village 
 
 through a wood. 
 Had made her little granddaughter a nice 
 
 red riding-hood, 
 This riding-hood fhe ufed to wear when- 
 ever fhe walk'd out ; 
 It was fo fmart, the boys and girls would 
 
 follow her about.
 
 46 
 
 Little Red-riding-hobd. 
 
 
 And all the neighbours loved her, and to 
 
 
 fee her often came ; 
 
 
 And little Dame Red-riding-hood they 
 
 
 call'd her for her name. 
 
 
 One beautiful fine morning when her 
 
 
 mother had been churning. 
 
 
 This little girl upon the hearth fome nice 
 
 
 fweet cakes was turning : 
 
 
 And whifper'd foftly to herfelf, how well 
 
 
 our oven bakes ! 
 
 
 Oh, how I wifh that grandmamma could 
 
 
 tafte thefe nice fweet cakes ! 
 
 
 Her mother who was clofe behind, and 
 
 
 heard her little mutter. 
 
 
 Then you fhall take her fome, fhe faid. 
 
 
 with fome of my frefh butter. 
 
 
 But loiter not upon the road, nor from 
 
 
 the footpath ftray. 
 
 
 For many wicked folks there be might 
 
 
 harm thee by the way. 
 
 
 As foon as fhe had heard thefe words, oh ! 
 
 
 how fhe jump'd for joy !
 
 Little Red-riding-hood. 47 
 
 For fhe old granny loved as much as moil 
 
 love a new toy. 
 She put on her red-riding-hood, and 
 
 ftarted off in hafte ; 
 All eager for her grandmother her nice 
 
 fweet cakes to tafte. 
 And thus as on fhe trotted with her ba{]<:et 
 
 on her arm, 
 She little thought that any one would wifh 
 
 to do her harm. 
 
 Now when fhe came into the wood, 
 
 through which the footpath lay, 
 The birds were finging all around, the 
 
 flowers were blooming gay. 
 Such yellow buttercups fhe faw, fuch 
 
 violets white and blue. 
 Such primrofes, fuch fweet-briars, and 
 
 honey-fuckles too ; 
 That, oh ! fhe thought within herfelf, I 
 
 wifh Mamma were here : 
 I'm fure fhe'd let me ftop awhile ; there 
 
 can be noug-ht to fear :
 
 48 
 
 Little Red-ridino;-hood. 
 
 I muft juft pick thefe pretty flowers which 
 
 fmell fo frefli and fweet : 
 'Twill be fo nice to take her home a nofe- 
 
 gay for a treat. 
 She told me not to loiter here, nor from 
 
 the footpath ftray ; 
 And fo I wont flop very long, nor wander 
 
 far away. 
 And fo fhe ftopp'd, nor thought of harm, 
 
 becaufe flie knew not what : 
 Enough it fhould have been to know — 
 
 Mamma had told her not. 
 And from the path fhe ftray'd away, and 
 
 pick'd a thoufand flowers ; 
 And all the birds did welcome her within 
 
 their leafy bowers. 
 But, as it fo fell out, a wolf was bafking 
 
 in the grafs. 
 And foon with his fliarp hazel eyes efpied 
 
 the little lafs. 
 And then he trotted up to her, and right 
 
 before her ftood :
 
 Little Red-riding-hood. 
 
 49 
 
 How do you do, my dear? faid he; what 
 
 
 brings you to my wood ? 
 
 
 Now though his coat was very rough, his 
 
 
 words were foft and kind ; 
 
 
 And not a fingle thought of fear e'er 
 
 
 croff'd her fimple mind. 
 
 
 And fo fhe freely faid, — I go to fee my 
 
 
 Granny, Sir, 
 
 
 Who Hves in yonder village in the cottage 
 
 
 near the fir. 
 
 
 I am her little pet, you know, and take 
 
 
 her nice fweet cakes — 
 
 
 Good bye; faid he, and brufh'd away thro' 
 
 
 bufhes and thro' brakes. 
 
 
 And not five minutes had pafT'd by fince 
 
 
 he had quitted her. 
 
 
 Before he reach'd the village and the cot- 
 
 
 tage near the fir. 
 
 
 He rubb'd and fcratch'd againft the door; 
 
 
 but fhe was ill in bed ; 
 
 
 And when he tried to make a knock, fhe 
 
 
 feebly raifed her head ; 
 
 
 H
 
 5' 
 
 Little Red-ridins-hood. 
 
 And cried, who knocks at Martha's door, 
 
 and poor old Martha wakes ? 
 It is your little pet, faid he, who brings 
 
 you nice fweet cakes. 
 God help you, deareft child, fhe cried, fo 
 
 pull the ftring you know ; 
 And up the latch will go, my love, and you 
 
 may enter fo. 
 Then up he jump'dto reach the firing, and 
 
 open flew the door ; 
 And in he walk'd, and faften'd it, juft as 
 
 it was before. 
 Alas ! alas ! — as you or I on bread and milk 
 
 would fup. 
 The greedy wolf this poor old dame he 
 
 gobbled fairly up. 
 
 But now, afhamed of what he'd done, he 
 
 jump'd into her bed ; 
 And put her gown upon his back, her cap 
 
 upon his head. 
 But ere he long had lain, there came the 
 
 very little pet.
 
 Little Red-riding-hood. 51 
 
 Who long'd to tell her Granny of the kind 
 
 wolf fhe had met. 
 And gently tapping at the door, fhe 
 
 whifper'd foft and ftill ; 
 And the falfe wolf fpake huikily, as he 
 
 were very ill : 
 Who knocks at Martha's door, he cried, 
 
 and poor old Martha wakes ? 
 It is her little pet, faid fhe, who brings 
 
 her nice fweet cakes. 
 God help you, dearefl, cried the wolf, fo 
 
 pull the firing you know ; 
 And up the latch will go, my love, and 
 
 you may enter fo. 
 Then up fhe jump'd to reach the firing, 
 
 and open flew the door ; 
 And in fhe flepp'd, and faften'd it, jufl as 
 
 it was before. 
 
 Now take off your red riding-hood, and 
 
 come to me in bed : 
 He fpake with an affededvoice, and 
 
 cover'd up his head.
 
 52 
 
 Little Red-riding-hood. 
 
 The little damfel, as he fpoke, juft faw his 
 
 hairy nofe : 
 Yet now fhe did as fhe was bid, and To 
 
 puU'd off her clothes. 
 
 Oh ! Granny, what rough arms you've 
 
 got ! I'm not afraid, cried fhe : 
 Rough arms ? my deareft child, he faid ; 
 
 better for hugging thee. 
 Oh ! Granny, what fharp eyes you've got ! 
 
 I'm half afraid, cried fhe : 
 Sharp eyes ? my deareft child, he faid ; 
 
 better for feeing thee. 
 Oh! Granny, what long ears you've got ! 
 
 I'm quite afraid, cried Ihe : 
 Long ears ^ my deareft child, he faid ; 
 
 better for hearing thee. 
 Oh ! Granny, what wide lips you've got ! 
 
 I think you'll fwallow me : 
 Wide lips ? my deareft child, he faid ; 
 
 better for kifting thee. 
 Thus having faid, he kiffes gave her one 
 
 — two — three — and four;
 
 Little Red-riding-hood. 
 
 S3 
 
 And then — he would have eat her up, but 
 he could eat no more. 
 
 So little people all take heed, and do as 
 
 you are bid ; 
 Left you fome day fhould meet a wolf, 
 
 as this poor maiden did.
 
 A PalTage in the Life of 
 
 JACK THE GIANT-KILLER. 
 
 A Lay formerly fimg about the Soiith-wejiern 
 
 coajl of 'England and the Principality of 
 
 Wales, but known in more remote 
 
 parts f nee the fpread 
 
 of Learning.
 
 Jack the Giant-killer. 
 
 Monftrum horrendutn, ivforme, ingens. 
 
 /^LD Cormoran of Michael's mount 
 ^-^ By all his teeth he fwore, 
 That he would eat more butcher's meat, 
 Than a whole hoft from Cornwall's coaft 
 Of ten or fifteen fcore. 
 
 In Arthur's reign this Giant lived ; 
 
 A Giant huge was he : 
 His name was known in every town. 
 From Devon's border to Land's-end, 
 
 And eke from fea to fea. 
 
 Six fingers on each hand he bore. 
 
 Six toes upon each foot : 
 An ox's hide his glove fupplied ; 
 And three times ten ftout Cornifh men 
 
 Could fleep within his boot.
 
 58 
 
 Jack the Giant-killer. 
 
 And while he bathed his monftrous legs, 
 
 And ftraddled in the feas. 
 The braveft fhip of Arthur's fleet 
 
 Might fail between his knees. 
 
 His breath was like a gale of wind 
 
 As now-a-days it blows : 
 His fneeze was like a hurricane ; 
 And leagues around was heard the found 
 
 When he did blow his nofe. 
 
 His laugh was like a thunderclap 
 
 If e'er in jeft he fpoke ; 
 And the waves that lay in Michael's bay 
 Shook, like a merry company, 
 
 Refponfive to his joke. 
 
 Thrice every day he gorged his fill. 
 
 And thrice he drank as well : 
 One herd at leaft of falted fwine. 
 One hundred fatted beeves in brine. 
 And eke a thoufand caflcs of wine. 
 Were ftow'd within his cell.
 
 Jack the Giant-killer. 
 
 On every fabbath day at morn, 
 
 While Church-bells tolFd for prayer, 
 He took his club and took his horn. 
 And took his belt with iron welt. 
 And through the fea did fare. 
 
 Then foraging the country round 
 
 He pillaged every farm ; 
 And hogs and fheep and oxen too 
 
 Were fell'd by his ftrong arm : 
 And then he bound them in his belt. 
 And round his waift huge loads did pack. 
 And fwung the reft acrofs his back. 
 
 And fought his ifle again : 
 And not a man of all who dwelt 
 Or high or low within that fhire. 
 Or peafant, parfon or efquire. 
 
 But dreaded Cormoran. 
 
 The very magiftrates themfelves, 
 Who once a fortnight did difpenfe 
 King Arthur's juftice at Penzance, 
 Defpite of juftice and of law 
 He made them cater for his maw : 
 
 59
 
 6o J^^'^ ^^^ Giant-killer. 
 
 And tho' they lived in rufty pride, 
 Nor took their country's pay. 
 He fpared them not for that a jot. 
 But ufed to fay the balance lay 
 
 Upon the country's fide. 
 
 In footh it was a grievous fight. 
 
 And fad it is to tell, 
 When Cormoran came o'er the fea. 
 
 What fearful things befel : 
 He had no fhame of his ill name, 
 
 No fneaking thief was born ; 
 But {landing ftiff on the main cliff 
 
 Nine times he wound his horn. 
 
 Oh then I ween you might have feen 
 
 All nature in defpair ! 
 The bird foar'd high toward the fky. 
 
 The wild beaft fought his lair. 
 
 The fheep ran huddling to a nook. 
 As they had feen a wolf: 
 
 The fnorting colt defied the brook. 
 Or plunged into the gulf.
 
 Jack the Giant-killer. 6i 
 
 The lazy-grouping fleers, that grazed 
 
 Upon the mountain fell. 
 Forgot their pafture all amazed. 
 
 And pour'd into the dell. 
 
 The pigs that buried in the ftraw 
 
 Lay grunting fnug and warm, 
 Now helter-ikelter fcurried off. 
 
 As if they fmelt a ftorm. 
 
 The watch-dog tore againft his chain, 
 As he would choke with rage : 
 
 But when he liften'd once agen. 
 He knew the voice of Cormoran, 
 
 And Ikulk'd into his den. 
 
 From every fteeple on the coaft, 
 
 And eke from every tower. 
 The village bells right merrily 
 
 Did chime the matins-hour ; 
 But when they heard th' accurfed blaft. 
 Each fturdy fexton flood aghafl ; 
 The rope it glided from his grafp, 
 
 And filence reign'd around :
 
 62 
 
 Jack the Giant-killer. 
 
 Save here and there where fudden jerk 
 Had followed hiterrupted work. 
 Like dying man's convulfive gafp. 
 There came a jangHng found. 
 
 The lads and lafles, who that morn 
 
 Had donn'd their high-day trim, 
 Were pacing folemnly to prayer. 
 
 In modeft guife and prim. 
 Apart they walk'd in decent pride. 
 And fcarcely ventured fide by fide : 
 
 But hark ! it was— it was — 
 'Twas Cormoran ! they knew the found 
 That paralyfed the country round. 
 
 And hurried off in mafs. 
 Forgetful now of prayer and pride 
 In groups they thrid the foreft wide. 
 
 Or lurk in caves together : 
 And here and there a plighted pair 
 Wander aloof in mute defpair. 
 
 Or crouch upon the heather.
 
 PART II. 
 
 Ingentes anirnos anguflo in peBore. 
 
 T N Cornwall then there lived a youth, 
 ^ (Such may that land ne'er lack) 
 His mother calFd him " Johnny dear," 
 His father call'd him Jack. 
 
 In footh he was of gentle mien, 
 
 And of a nature kind : 
 And though his body it was fmall. 
 
 It held a mighty mind. 
 
 For he had read of fairy tales. 
 And deeds of high emprize ; 
 
 And envied knights who died in fights. 
 Or lived in ladies' eyes. 
 
 And not a wreftling match there was. 
 But Jack would try his fkill ; 
 
 And not a fair but Jack was there 
 To wreak his merry will.
 
 64 
 
 Jack the Giant-killer. 
 
 And while he fat upon fome rock, 
 And watch' d his fheep by day. 
 
 His eyes were with his filly flock, 
 His foul was far away. 
 
 Sometimes he went to beard intent 
 
 A Giant in his den ; 
 Sometimes he thought he flngly fought 
 
 With twice two hundred men: 
 
 And when he found himfelf aground, 
 
 Not caring to be flain 
 He fprang afoot, and off he fhot 
 
 Till he might breathe again. 
 
 Now Jack while he fat thoughtfully 
 
 One glorious fabbath morn. 
 It fo befel, as I did tell. 
 
 That Cormoran wound his horn. 
 
 The ewes were browfing o'er the downs. 
 
 And fcatter'd far away ; 
 The luftv lambs had drain'd their dams, 
 
 And gamboll'd off to play.
 
 Jack the Giant-killer. 
 
 Now all did prick their ears right quick 
 
 Aftounded at the blaft ; 
 As if a kite had foar'd in fight. 
 
 Or fox had fkulken paft. 
 
 And then they fcour'd about the lay, 
 
 And piteoufly did bleat. 
 Till in the throng that rufh'd along 
 
 Each one its own might meet. 
 
 Cried Jack— It is a fhame, I wis, 
 
 A burning fhame to fee 
 This Cormoran, a fingle man. 
 
 Defy the whole countrie ! 
 
 What ! tho' no hand on Cornifh land 
 
 Can wield the giant's axe : 
 One heart there is as ftout as his, 
 
 And that one heart is Jack's. 
 
 And, if I know a trick or two 
 May ferve me in good ftead. 
 
 This very night my mark Til write 
 Upon the giant's head. 
 
 6s 
 
 K
 
 66 
 
 Jack the Giant-killer. 
 
 That day pafT'd by moft tedioufly, 
 And Jack the hours did count. 
 
 Till night came on and he was gone 
 Alone to Michael's mount. 
 
 His horn was at his collar hung, 
 
 His hatchet in his hand ; 
 Adown his fide his fpade was tied ; 
 A pickaxe at his back was flung ; 
 
 And thus he left the land. 
 
 Acrofs the bay he held his way. 
 And fwam with all his might ; 
 
 It was fo dark he fcarce could mark 
 The mountain's frowning height. 
 
 But foon he gain'd the rocky land, 
 And dripping from the wave 
 
 He peer'd around, till he had found 
 The hateful giant's cave. 
 
 There right afore the giant's door 
 He dug a huge big hole ; 
 
 Full deep and wide on every fide 
 He fcoop'd it like a mole.
 
 Jack the Giant-killer. 67 
 
 With muchel toil he moved the foil ; 
 
 And then, to hide his tricks, 
 Above the cavern's gaping mouth 
 
 He wove a frame of fticks. 
 
 A frame of fticks juft ftrong enough 
 
 To bear the living fward ; 
 Which he fo laid o'er as it was before. 
 
 Not a trace of the hole appear 'd. 
 
 Then pickaxe, fpade, and hatchet too 
 
 Upon the ground he caft : 
 And he took his horn to falute the morn 
 
 And blew a jolly blaft. 
 
 Now how he danced, and how he pranced, 
 
 To think what he had done ! 
 But when he heard what then he heard. 
 
 He well nigh burft for fun. 
 
 " Holloa— Yaugh ! Holloa— Yaugh ! 
 
 Who dares wake Cormoran ? 
 As I am good, by my father's blood, 
 
 I fmell a breathing man ! "
 
 68 
 
 Jack the Giant-killer. 
 
 Then he rubb'd his eyes and flrove to rife, 
 
 But woke fo tardily, 
 That while he yawn'd the morning dawn'd, 
 
 And Jack bethought to flee. 
 
 But while yet flumber his lids did cumber 
 
 He blew another blaft ; 
 And the giant rufli'd out and blink'd about, 
 
 Till Jack he fpied at laft. 
 
 What whipfteris thatfcarce as tall as a cat ? 
 
 He'll do to broil or bake : 
 But he's too fmall for me withal 
 
 This long night's faft to break. 
 
 TIs Jack, I fv/ear ! ah Jack, mon cher, 
 
 This is a merry bout ! 
 I'll pay your fcore — and all before 
 
 Your mother knows you're out. 
 
 So on he ftrode : but foon he trod 
 
 Aboon Jack's handywork ; 
 When in he fell, and roll'd pell-mell 
 
 Blafpheming like a Turk.
 
 Jack the Giant-killer. 69 
 
 Then Jack peep'd in, and rubb'd his chin, 
 
 While thus he fpake his foe : — 
 Now, as you're good, by your father's 
 
 Dear giant, fwear not fo. [blood. 
 
 Why thus perplex'd and forely vex'd, 
 
 Kind heart! for me and mine ? 
 My mother knows I'm out ; — but does 
 
 Your father know youVe in ? 
 
 At Jack's keen wit the giant bit 
 
 His flefh with grief and pain : 
 Then with mock glee — Bravo ! cried he : 
 
 Now help me out again. 
 
 Jack quick replied : on either fide 
 With both your hands hold tight : 
 
 While I take care to feize your hair. 
 And pull with all my might. 
 
 The Giant did as he was bid ; 
 
 When Jack his humour fpoke : 
 For though fo brave and feeming grave 
 
 He dearly loved a joke.
 
 70 
 
 Jack the Giant-killer. 
 
 '^ Stay, flay : the air is cold up here, 
 
 And you are delicate : 
 It fure were beft to breakfaft firft ; 
 
 I well can fpare to wait. 
 
 But broil not me, who am you fee 
 
 Scarce taller than a cat : 
 Not half enough, befides I'm tough ; 
 
 Do pray inftead take — that :" — 
 
 Whereat a thump he dealt To plump. 
 
 Upon the Giant's head, 
 That down he roll'd upon the mould. 
 
 And there he lay like dead. 
 
 Then Jack jump'd down and kneeling on 
 Him pull'd his clafp-knife out ; 
 
 And here he gafh'd, and there he flafh'd. 
 As one would crimp a trout. 
 
 Now fuch a flood of giant's blood 
 Came rufhing from each wound. 
 
 Jack well had need to off with fpeed. 
 Or footh he had been drown'd.
 
 Jack the Giant-killer. 
 
 Then up he fprang, and, like a cock 
 That dead hath ftruck his foe, 
 
 He flood aloof upon a rock, 
 And thus began to crow. 
 
 The deed is done ! the game is won ! 
 
 Great Cormoran is ilain ! 
 Now frifk and leap, my pretty fheep. 
 
 All merrily again. 
 
 The deed is done ! the game is won ! 
 
 Right glorious Jack will be : 
 All Cornwall's coaft his fame fhall boaft 
 
 For this great vi6lory ! 
 
 But who can know who ftruck the blow, 
 Since none were here to fee ? 
 
 What boots to Jack if he go back 
 Without fome true trophee ? 
 
 For men in footh are wondrous loth 
 
 To fpend a word of praife : 
 Though great and fmall are prodigal 
 
 Of evil words always. 
 
 71
 
 72 
 
 Jack the Giant-killer. 
 
 But off to bear the Giant's gear 
 Jack was too weak of limb : 
 
 He fcarce could ftand the weight on land ; 
 Then how with it to fwim ? 
 
 Wherefor he felt beneath his belt ; 
 
 Perchance he there mote wear 
 A fignet, or fome love-token. 
 
 Or lock of lady's hair. 
 
 For who fo fierce, but love may pierce 
 His breaft, to all unknown ? 
 
 What heart fo fere, but fprings a tear 
 In fecret and alone ? 
 
 But Cormoran was not the man 
 
 To rue his lonely couch : 
 Nor pledge nor plight of lady bright 
 
 Was there within his pouch. 
 
 There lay alone a fleer's thigh-bone, 
 Sharp pointed, huge, and thick ; 
 
 Wherewith he ufed (for tell't I muft) 
 His monftrous teeth to pick.
 
 Jack the Giant-killer. 
 
 Now this took Jack, and on his back 
 
 He flung the ugly fpoil : 
 And thus again he fwam the main, 
 
 Sore fick of blood and toil. 
 
 The morn was bright, the breeze was light, 
 Jack ftemm'd the wave meanwhile : 
 
 And all Penzance came forth to fee 
 Who left the Giant's ifle. 
 
 73 
 
 They mark'd him ride the buoyant tide, 
 
 As one of ftubborn mind ; 
 And how he cleft his way and left 
 
 A blood-red track behind. — 
 
 Now Jack once more on Cornwall's fliore 
 Unflung his huge trophee : [ftound 
 
 And all flock'd round, and mark'd with 
 What this ftrange thing mote be. 
 
 So thick ! fo long ! fo fliarp ! fo ftrong ! 
 
 They faw the truth full quick : 
 For who but he its lord could be ? 
 
 'Twas Cormoran's own tooth-pick !
 
 74 
 
 Jack the Giant-killer. 
 
 And who could feize that pocket-piece, 
 Nor pay for't with his head ? 
 
 And who e'er felt beneath that belt ? 
 It muft be he was dead ! 
 
 Then did they fhout with joyous rout. 
 
 And Jack bore off amain : 
 Right up Penzance they led their dance. 
 
 Then led it down again. 
 
 It chanced that morn the Ealdorman 
 
 Sat there in civic ftate ; 
 On matters high of polity 
 
 For to deliberate. 
 
 So when this noife of men and boys 
 Refounded through the flreet. 
 
 He felt the weight of high eftate 
 And trembled in his feat. 
 
 But foon a fcout who had peep'd out 
 Thefe welcome tidings told : — 
 
 " They bring a lad — fome thief, or pad !" 
 Whereat he waxed more bold.
 
 Jack the Giant-killer. 'j^ 
 
 For though he had no heart to beard 
 
 A burglar ftout and tall. 
 He yet was glad to trounce a lad, 
 
 Becaufe he was fo fmall. 
 
 But threats foon turn to promlfes, 
 
 And punifhment to praife, 
 When Jack walks in and on the board 
 
 The giant's tooth-pick lays ! 
 
 The Ealdorman is all aftound. 
 
 And fcarce his eyes believes ; 
 For 'twas long fyne that he did dine 
 
 Upon his own fat beeves. 
 
 As fitting meed for fuch brave deed, 
 
 He fain would wealth beftow : 
 But money there was then as rare 
 
 As now-a-days, I trow. 
 
 But honour fhone more bright than coin 
 
 Before Jack's noble eyes : 
 Awake — afleep — he ftill might keep 
 
 Untarnifh'd this fair prize.
 
 76 
 
 Jack the Giant-killer. 
 
 The Ealdorman then rifing up. 
 While Jack before him knelt. 
 
 In Arthur's name he dubb'd him knight, 
 And girt him with a belt. 
 
 The belt it was of good leather. 
 With letters ftamp'd of gold ; 
 
 And all the world might read thereon 
 This fimple hiftory told : — 
 
 '(irijt0 10 tlje Inlicint Corm'fl) man 
 ([(lltjo iiz>^ ttjc giant Conuouan !
 
 DIVERS SMALL HISTORIES, 
 
 not known to the Ancients,
 
 The Vain Moufe. 
 
 PON a river fide 
 A Frog had built his houfe ; 
 And in a hole clofe by 
 There lived a little Moufe. 
 
 Now as they lived fo near, 
 
 And went out in fine weather, 
 
 They ufed to meet fometimes, 
 And laugh and talk together. 
 
 Thus as they jogg'd along 
 So happily through life, 
 
 The neighbours often faid, 
 They muft be man and wife.
 
 8o 
 
 The Vain Moufe. 
 
 A fair offer. 
 
 reje6ledwith 
 difdain. 
 
 Now Moufe was rather gay. 
 
 While Froggy was moft proper ; 
 
 And fo he faid one day, 
 
 'Tis time for me to ftop her. 
 
 That very afternoon. 
 
 As they were taking tea, 
 
 I love you, Moufe, faid he ; 
 Pray will you marry me ? 
 
 But Moufe was very vain ; 
 
 And, though mice are fo rife, 
 I'm fure fhe thought herfelf 
 
 The prettieft moufe in life. 
 
 So looking grave at Frog 
 That he fhould dare to woo. 
 
 She faid, — how can I love 
 
 A cold, damp thing, like you ? 
 
 Then jumping from her feat. 
 
 As if to fhew her fpite. 
 She whifk'd him with her tail, 
 
 Nor wifh'd him once good-night.
 
 The Vain Moufe. 
 
 8i 
 
 But, as it fo fell out, 
 
 Old Puffy had been walking, 
 And ftopp'd to liften there 
 
 While Frog and Moufe were talking 
 
 And juft as this vain Moufe 
 
 Was trotting home to bed. 
 Old Puffy cried, — Stop, ftop ! 
 
 And feized her by the head. 
 
 Vanity 
 
 meets its de- 
 
 ferts. 
 
 Then Froggy who peep'd out 
 And faw how fhe was treated. 
 
 It ferves her right, faid he. 
 For being fo conceited. 
 
 So Puffy took poor Moufe, 
 And gave her to her kittens. 
 
 Who fupp'd upon her flefh, 
 But faved her fkin for mittens. 
 
 M
 
 Cock Robin and Jenny Wren. 
 
 lOOD morning, dear Robin !" 
 faid fweet Jenny Wren : 
 " Good morning, fweet Jen- 
 ny !" faid Robin again. 
 Then chirping and flirting and hopping 
 
 and bobbing 
 Together fat down Jenny Wren and Cock 
 Robin. 
 
 Then Jenny broke fdence : — " Ah me ! 
 
 if you knew. 
 Dear Robin, how this little heart beats for 
 
 you. 
 It hardly would happen that poor Jenny 
 
 Wren 
 Muft always give place to Dame Robin 
 
 your hen."
 
 Cock Robin and 
 
 " Sweet Jenny !" faid he, " you don't 
 
 furely fuppofe 
 That Robins can trifle like jackdaws and 
 
 crows ! 
 You know birds of my quality muft be 
 
 decorous ; 
 Though between you and me, fweet, it 
 
 may fometimes bore us." 
 
 " Then come, my dear Robin ! then come 
 
 to my bower. 
 Now the trees are all leaf and the fields 
 
 are all flower : 
 The world may tell flories, — I don't care 
 
 a fig, 
 While pretty Cock Robin is perch'd on 
 
 my twig." 
 
 Cock Robin was tickled, and thrice chirp'd 
 
 aloud, 
 And thrice wagg'd his tail and thrice 
 
 gracioufly bow'd :
 
 Jenny Wren. 
 
 85 
 
 Then he buftled and ruftled and whiftled 
 
 
 fo high. 
 
 
 That he woke a dull owl who was dozing 
 
 
 clofe by. 
 
 
 " Whit-a-whoo !" cried the owl, as he 
 
 
 blink'd with furprife : 
 
 
 " Where is he ?— this fun is too bright for 
 
 
 my eyes." 
 
 
 But a cloud paiTing over, as if fate was in it, 
 
 
 He pounced upon Robin at that very 
 
 
 minute. 
 
 
 Poor Cock Robin ! alas, that he fhould 
 
 
 be fo frail ! 
 
 
 How could he give ear to her flattering 
 
 
 tale! 
 
 
 The Owl minced him for fupper : but, had 
 
 
 he been wife. 
 
 
 He had ftill fupp'd himfelf on Dame 
 
 
 Robin's mince-pies. 

 
 The Proud Eagle. 
 
 N eagle dwelt upon a rock, 
 And perch'd upon the topmoft 
 ftones : 
 
 Whencehe would pounce on bird and bead 
 And bear them off to pick their bones. 
 
 He was a proud and cruel bird. 
 And boafted of his beak and claw ; 
 
 His eye could reach both far and near. 
 And hunger was his only law. 
 
 One morning in the month of May 
 A lamb was bleating on the lawn : 
 
 " A fig for lambs," faid he ; " to-day 
 I'll breakfaft on a pretty fawn."
 
 88 
 
 The Proud Eagle. 
 
 But every pretty fawn that day 
 Was fhelter'd by its careful dam : 
 
 So as he could not breakfaft there, 
 He turn'd again to find the lamb. 
 
 And though he might have caught a hare 
 Who hurried off towards her brue ; 
 
 " Nay think not, filly pufs" he cried 
 " That I would fiioop to lunch on you." 
 
 But now the fhepherd watch'd his lambs. 
 And, as he dared not venture there. 
 
 Away he flew, and fwore aloud 
 He'd gobble up alive the hare. 
 
 He pafi^'d a little moufe jufl: then. 
 
 Nor deigned to touch fuch paltry food : 
 
 But foon he found the prudent hare 
 Had fi:ole away into the wood. 
 
 Then in a pafiion back he flew 
 
 To fwallow whole the little moufe : 
 
 But little moufe her danger knew. 
 And fo had crept into her houfe.
 
 The Proud Eagle. 
 
 89 
 
 And now the evening dews were rifing : 
 And as the Hght was waxing pale, 
 
 This proud bird (deem it not furprifing) 
 Was glad to fup upon a fnail. 
 
 N
 
 I 
 
 Young Lumpkin's Hyasna. 
 
 'T was once on a time people 
 faid a hysna 
 Lived clofe by the village and 
 had a fnug lair ; 
 They were fure 'twas a real one, young 
 Lumpkin had feen her. 
 With a head like a wolf and a tail like 
 a bear. 
 
 Old GafFer moreover, who ufed to fit 
 quaffing. 
 One night heard a fcuffle and found a 
 goofe dead ; 
 And dame Slipperflopper had often heard 
 laughing. 
 While folks were, or ought to have 
 been, all abed.
 
 92 Young Lumpkin's Hyasna. 
 
 So with common confent they determined 
 to ftop her, 
 Forhyasnasthey faid were a mifchievous 
 race : 
 So GafFer and Lumpkin and Dame Slip- 
 perflopper 
 Sallied forth one fine morning all girt 
 for the chafe. 
 
 They foon reach'd the hole where they 
 reckon'd to find her. 
 And all took their pofts as they gather'd 
 round clofe ; 
 And the Dame fhe peep'd in, though no 
 mole could be blinder. 
 As fhe fettled her fpedlacles over her 
 nofe. 
 
 But jufl at that moment our old friend 
 the fox, 
 (For no more and no lefs was Young 
 Lumpkin's Hyasna)
 
 Young Lumpkin's Hyaena. 
 
 93 
 
 Was ftarting to vifitold Gaffer's fat cocks. 
 
 
 And he brufh'd paft her face juft as if 
 
 
 he'd not feen her. 
 
 
 She ftarted — her glaffes fell into the 
 
 
 hole; 
 
 
 And backward fhe tumbled and 
 
 
 fhriek'd like a child. 
 
 
 Young Lumpkin flood filent and look'd 
 
 
 like a fool ; 
 
 
 Old Gaffer ran homeward, as if he was 
 
 
 wild. 
 
 
 But before he got home he had lofl a fine 
 
 
 chicken. 
 
 
 And Dame Slipperfloppercame back in 
 
 
 chagrin : 
 
 
 But the Fox grinn'd with joy while his 
 
 
 chops he fat licking, 
 
 
 And put on the glaffes, to pick the 
 
 
 bones clean. 

 
 94 
 
 Moral. 
 
 Young Lumpkin's Hyaena. 
 
 When a fool prates of wonders — a ghoft 
 or a dragon, 
 Believe not his flory, albeit he may 
 fwear ; 
 For be fure, that as ufual the world will 
 ftill wag on. 
 And never a dragon nor ghoft will be 
 there.
 
 The Young Thruflies. 
 
 A TRUE STORY. 
 
 PRETTY thrufh with fpeckled 
 
 breaft 
 Within a yew had made her 
 neft. 
 And laid her five eggs there : 
 Five pretty eggs fo fmooth and blue. 
 And, like herfelf all fpeckled too. 
 She brooded with much care. 
 
 By day, by night, fo clofe fhe fat, 
 No babbling dog, no crafty cat, 
 
 No boy her fecret knew : 
 Nor bird — fave one, who fat apart 
 And whiftled to confole her heart, — 
 
 Her gentle mate, and true.
 
 96 The Young Thrufhes. 
 
 Thus time pafTd cheerily away ; 
 Meanwhile her bofom day by day 
 
 With kindling fondnefs yearn'd : 
 Till, on the morn when it befel 
 Her callow neftlings burft the fhell. 
 
 With mother's love it burn'd. 
 
 Now all feem'd brighter to her eye. 
 The earth more green, more blue the 
 fky. 
 
 For all with love was dyed : 
 And while fhe flitted round for food. 
 And pick'd it for her helplefs brood. 
 
 She wifh'd no joy befide. 
 
 Alas, that joy fo fweet and pure 
 Should be on earth fo little fure ! 
 
 But fuch is Heaven s decree. 
 Pufs mark'd where fhe was wont to fly. 
 And watch'd her with a yellow eye. 
 
 And noted well the tree.
 
 The Young Thrufhes. 97 
 
 't> 
 
 Now ftealthily fhe crept beneath, 
 
 And there fhe crouch 'd as ftill as death, 
 
 Till home the thrufh might go : 
 But mother's eyes are open wide ; 
 And foon the cautious parent fpied 
 
 The ambufh of her foe. 
 
 Wherefore fhe went not near the yew. 
 But quite another way fhe flew ; 
 
 And PufTy's game feem'd loft : 
 For all in vain fhe ftrove to find 
 The neft which lay fo clofe and blind. 
 
 Where two thick ftems were crofT'd. 
 
 Then balking in the funny ray. 
 She foon began to purr and play. 
 
 As all on love intent : 
 And mildnefs, like the velvet paw 
 Which cloked the terrors of her claw, 
 
 Belied her natural bent.
 
 98 
 
 The Young ThruQies. 
 
 Twas thus, whenas the fenfelefs brood. 
 Who miff'd awhile their cuftom'd food. 
 
 Began to chirp complaints ; 
 As if their mother knew not beft. 
 Or would not charge her careful breaft 
 
 With all their little wants. 
 
 Full foon their folly did they rue ; 
 (As foolifh children always do ;) 
 
 But ah ! they rued too late : 
 For Puffy heard their filly wail. 
 And prick'd her ears, and lafh'd her tail. 
 
 And grinn'd with fcorn and hate. 
 
 Then up the tree amain fhe fprung. 
 From branch, to bough, fhe leapt, fhe 
 
 Till right within the nook, [clung. 
 Where lay the nefllings fnug and warm, 
 She planted her terrific form, 
 
 And all the yew-tree fhook !
 
 The Young Thruflies. 99 
 
 How then they trembled In defpalr, 
 And long'd to have their Mother there, 
 
 Moft grievous is to tell : 
 And how Pufs fcorn'd fuch unripe meat, 
 And fiercely fpurn'd them with her feet. 
 
 Till on the ground they fell ! 
 
 Alas ! poor birds ! had they been ftill, 
 Nor chirp'd their little plaints of ill. 
 
 While all was for the beft, 
 The unheeding cat had walk'd away ; 
 And they had lived fecure that day 
 
 Within their happy neft.
 
 M. P. or The Magpie. 
 
 MAGPIE once was fuch a 
 
 dunce. 
 That all the people faid. 
 More bricks would lie in a fifh's eye. 
 Than learning in his head. 
 
 And though his mother herfelf did bother 
 
 And every trouble took, 
 Yet not one word could that dull bird 
 
 Repeat without his book. 
 
 Till once he faw a young jackdaw 
 Who dearly loved his letters ; 
 
 Though not fo much his tafte was fuch. 
 As 'twas to ape his betters. 
 
 A blockhead
 
 I02 
 
 may emulate 
 elocjuence ; 
 
 and, by 
 practice. 
 
 learn to 
 
 fpeak with 
 
 fluency. 
 
 plaufibility. 
 
 M. P. or the Magpie. 
 
 Howe'er this be the jackdaw he 
 
 Could tell a funny ftory ; 
 And many a bird his prattle heard 
 
 And envied him his glory. 
 
 But when he fhew'd the wond'ring crowd 
 How he could fpout and fwell, 
 
 The Magpie tried for very pride 
 If he could do as well. 
 
 And every night by candlelight 
 
 He conn'd his leflbns o'er, 
 And every morn with the herdfman's horn 
 
 He rofe and pradifed more. 
 
 Full foon he thought himfelf well taught. 
 
 And then began to chatter : 
 And the careful dame, his mother, came 
 
 To fee what was the matter. 
 
 Like Mifter Peel he fmiled a deal. 
 And cuU'd the faireft didion ; 
 
 And look'd quite true though well he knew 
 That every word was fidion.
 
 M. P. or the Magpie. 
 
 Then to his nofe he raifed his toes, 
 
 And gravely look'd afkew ; 
 And thought himfelf a clever elf : — 
 
 And his mother thought fo too. 
 
 '* Caw, caw ! " quoth fhe ; " he fure muft 
 An orator or poet : [be 
 
 I'll have him fent to Parliament, 
 That all the world may know it." 
 
 But though he fhone fo much alone. 
 And made his mother ftare, 
 
 " The Members" fwore he was a bore, 
 And had no bufinefs there. 
 
 Yet there he is, and there I wis. 
 
 He's likely ftill to be ; 
 As, Ihould you call at Stephen's hall, 
 
 Yourfelf may chance to fee. 
 
 and grimace. 
 
 fo as to fatif- 
 fyhimfelf, — 
 
 and his mo- 
 ther. 
 
 — butnotthe 
 
 Commons 
 
 of England.
 
 The Pigeon and the Hen, 
 
 OR, THE PRIDE OF STATION. 
 
 MILK-WHITE pigeon (re- 
 cords ftate) 
 Was wedded to a milk-white 
 mate : 
 Nor envied prince nor potentate 
 
 This dainty dove, 
 While crouching to her lord fhe fate. 
 And coo'd her love. 
 
 Fortune 
 puffeth up 
 the heart, 
 
 Indulged in all her heart's defire 
 She felt no fpark of lawlefs fire ; 
 So plumed herfelf throughout the ihire 
 
 A pattern wife : 
 And chid dame Partlet, as in ire. 
 
 For her loofe life. 
 
 to judge 
 others.
 
 io6 
 
 The Pigeon and the Hen, 
 
 A fcandal to our fex, I vow, 
 Thofe cackling ladies of the mow ! 
 Or black, or red, or high, or low. 
 
 They have no care ; 
 So he's a Cock — 'tis quite enow 
 
 For welcome there ! 
 
 Dame Partlet heard, but felt no fliame ; 
 And let alone the vaunty dame. 
 To nurfe her pride of wedded fame ; 
 
 Herfelf content 
 That confcience whifper'd her no blame 
 
 Of evil bent. 
 
 A ihot! — the dove — ihe knew the found! 
 Her milk-white mate has ta'en a wound : 
 He languifhes upon the ground : 
 
 His fwimming eyes 
 Heed not his comrades hovering round : 
 
 He gafps — he dies.
 
 or, the Pride of Station. 
 
 107 
 
 Oh ! what can fthit a widow's grief ! 
 
 Our pattern wife defied relief: 
 
 No grain pick'd fhe, no fprouting leaf, 
 
 ■ — As folks could fee : 
 A pattern widow (to be brief) 
 
 She fain would be. 
 
 Altered cir- 
 cumftances 
 
 So trimly prinn'd fhe fat alone, 
 And lean'd her breaft againft a ftone. 
 As one for ever woe-begone ; 
 
 And would not coo : 
 No wonder that a fuitor foon 
 
 Came down to woo. 
 
 A vulgar bluerock by my fay ! 
 Without the gentle pouting way 
 Of him that died the other day : 
 
 Alas ! he's gone ! 
 And fore it is for one to ftay. 
 
 And live alone !
 
 io8 
 
 induce alter- 
 ed feelings. 
 
 Few can af- 
 ford to in- 
 dulge a fine 
 tafte, though 
 many may 
 have it. 
 
 The Pigeon and the Hen. 
 
 This bluerock prefT'd his fuit fo clofe, 
 Now ftrutting up upon his toes. 
 Now whifpering fomething nofe tonofe,- 
 
 Our milk-white dove 
 Crouch'd to him, as the ftory goes, 
 
 And coo'd her love. 
 
 Dame Partlet eyed the fcene afkaunt. 
 And fpake : — The pamper'd few may 
 
 vaunt 
 Their dainty tafte o'er fuch as want ; 
 
 But coarfer bread 
 Is good enough to one who can't 
 
 Get fine inftead.
 
 The Oyfter and the Mufcle, 
 
 OR, THE USES OF ADVERSITY. 
 
 N Oyfter, full of health and 
 
 pride, 
 Once heard a Mufcle by his 
 fide 
 O'er cruel fate repine ; 
 Driv'n by the tyrant flood to roam 
 An outcaft from his river-home. 
 And ficken in the brine. 
 
 While faint lay one and gaped half-dead. 
 The other hugg'd his native bed. 
 
 And fnuggled in his fhell : 
 " Poor paltry child of ooze!" he fpake, 
 " From Ocean's fons example take, 
 
 " And dare to laugh at ill."
 
 no 
 
 The Oyfter and the Mufcle. 
 
 E'en as he fpake, the dredgers came. 
 And fifli'd him from his depth amain, 
 
 And ftow'd him in the boat : 
 To London thence he found his way. 
 Where high and dry with more he lay, — 
 
 A dozen for a groat. 
 
 The play was o'er, the people throng'd ; 
 Yet fear'd he nought, howe'er he long'd 
 
 In Ocean's fand to delve : 
 But now a Captain of the Blues 
 Dropt in at Arthur's to caroufe. 
 
 And call'd for oyfters twelve. 
 
 The word went out, the knife went in ; 
 Our Oyfter naked to the ikin 
 
 Was brought upon a plate : 
 The Captain faw, the Captain feized. 
 And quick three drops of lemon fqueezed 
 
 Upon his fmarting pate.
 
 The Oyfter and the Mufcle. 
 
 1 1 1 
 
 The pride of the Ocean then gave way ; 
 He crifp'd his beard, (as people fay) 
 
 And fetch'd a heavy groan : 
 Ah me ! he thought ; how light to bear 
 The troubles of our neighbours are ; 
 
 How grievous are our own !
 
 PRINTED BY C. WHITTINGHAM, CHISWICK.
 
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