Fifty Bab Ballads Part 16

They s.h.i.+vered their timbers proudly, At a phantom forelock dragged, And called for a hornpipe loudly Whenever amus.e.m.e.nt flagged.

"Hum! Golly! him POP resemble, Him Britisher sov'reign, hum!

CALAMITY POP VON PEPPERMINT DROP, De King of Canoodle-Dum!"

The mariner's lively "Hollo!"

Enlivened Canoodle's plain (For blessings unnumbered follow In Civilization's train).

But Fortune, who loves a bathos, A terrible ending planned, For ADMIRAL D. CHICKABIDDY, C.B., Placed foot on Canoodle land!

That rebel, he seized KING GOWLER, He threatened his royal brains, And put him aboard the Howler, And fastened him down with chains.

The Howler she weighed her anchor, With FREDERICK nicely nailed, And off to the North with WILLIAM THE FOURTH These horrible pirates sailed.

CALAMITY said (with folly), "Hum! nebber want him again - Him civilize all of us, golly!

CALAMITY suck him brain!"

The people, however, were pained when They saw him aboard his s.h.i.+p, But none of them wept for their FREDDY, except HUM PICKETY WIMPLE TIP.

Ballad: THE MARTINET.

Some time ago, in simple verse I sang the story true Of CAPTAIN REECE, the Mantelpiece, And all her happy crew.

I showed how any captain may Attach his men to him, If he but heeds their smallest needs, And studies every whim.

Now mark how, by Draconic rule And hauteur ill-advised, The n.o.blest crew upon the Blue May be demoralized.

When his ungrateful country placed Kind REECE upon half-pay, Without much claim SIR BERKELY came, And took command one day.

SIR BERKELY was a martinet - A stern unyielding soul - Who ruled his s.h.i.+p by dint of whip And horrible black-hole.

A sailor who was overcome From having freely dined, And chanced to reel when at the wheel, He instantly confined!

And tars who, when an action raged, Appeared alarmed or scared, And those below who wished to go, He very seldom spared.

E'en he who smote his officer For punishment was booked, And mutinies upon the seas He rarely overlooked.

In short, the happy Mantelpiece, Where all had gone so well, Beneath that fool SIR BERKELY'S rule Became a floating h.e.l.l.

When first SIR BERKELY came aboard He read a speech to all, And told them how he'd made a vow To act on duty's call.

Then WILLIAM LEE, he up and said (The Captain's c.o.xswain he), "We've heard the speech your honour's made, And werry pleased we be.

"We won't pretend, my lad, as how We're glad to lose our REECE; Urbane, polite, he suited quite The saucy Mantelpiece.

"But if your honour gives your mind To study all our ways, With dance and song we'll jog along As in those happy days.

"I like your honour's looks, and feel You're worthy of your sword.

Your hand, my lad--I'm doosid glad To welcome you aboard!"

SIR BERKELY looked amazed, as though He didn't understand.

"Don't shake your head," good WILLIAM said, "It is an honest hand.

"It's grasped a better hand than yourn - Come, gov'nor, I insist!"

The Captain stared--the c.o.xswain glared - The hand became a fist!

"Down, upstart!" said the hardy salt; But BERKELY dodged his aim, And made him go in chains below: The seamen murmured "Shame!"

He stopped all songs at 12 p.m., Stopped hornpipes when at sea, And swore his cot (or bunk) should not Be used by aught than he.

He never joined their daily mess, Nor asked them to his own, But chaffed in gay and social way The officers alone.

His First Lieutenant, PETER, was As useless as could be, A helpless stick, and always sick When there was any sea.

This First Lieutenant proved to be His foster-sister MAY, Who went to sea for love of he In masculine array.

And when he learnt the curious fact, Did he emotion show, Or dry her tears or end her fears By marrying her? No!

Or did he even try to soothe This maiden in her teens?

Oh, no!--instead he made her wed The Sergeant of Marines!

Of course such Spartan discipline Would make an angel fret; They drew a lot, and WILLIAM shot This fearful martinet.

The Admiralty saw how ill They'd treated CAPTAIN REECE; He was restored once more aboard The saucy Mantelpiece.

Ballad: THE SAILOR BOY TO HIS La.s.s.

I go away this blessed day, To sail across the sea, MATILDA!

My vessel starts for various parts At twenty after three, MATILDA.

I hardly know where we may go, Or if it's near or far, MATILDA, For CAPTAIN HYDE does not confide In any 'fore-mast tar, MATILDA!

Beneath my ban that mystic man Shall suffer, coute qui coute, MATILDA!

What right has he to keep from me The Admiralty route, MATILDA?

Because, forsooth! I am a youth Of common sailors' lot, MATILDA!

Am I a man on human plan Designed, or am I not, MATILDA?

But there, my la.s.s, we'll let that pa.s.s!

With anxious love I burn, MATILDA.

I want to know if we shall go To church when I return, MATILDA?

Your eyes are red, you bow your head; It's pretty clear you thirst, MATILDA, To name the day--What's that you say?

- "You'll see me further first," MATILDA?

I can't mistake the signs you make, Although you barely speak, MATILDA; Though pure and young, you thrust your tongue Right in your pretty cheek, MATILDA!

My dear, I fear I hear you sneer - I do--I'm sure I do, MATILDA!

With simple grace you make a face, Ejaculating, "Ugh!" MATILDA.