This youth had sense and spirit;
But yet, with all his sense,
Excessive diffidence
Obscured his merit.
One day, at table, flushed with pride and wine,
His honor, proudly free, severely merry,
Conceived it would be vastly fine
To crack a joke upon his secretary.
"Young man," he said, "by what art, craft or trade Did your good father gain a livelihood?" "He was a saddler, sir," Modestus said,
"And in his time was reckoned good."
"A saddler, eh! and taught you Greek,
Instead of teaching you to sew!
Pray, why did not your father make
A saddler, sir, of you?"
Each parasite, then, as in duty bound,
The joke applauded, and the laugh went round.
At length Modestus, bowing low,
Said (craving pardon, if too free he made), "Sir, by your leave, I fain would know
"My father's trade! By heaven, that's too bad! My father's trade? Why, blockhead, are you mad?
My father, sir, did never stoop so low
He was a gentleman, I'd have you know."
"Excuse the liberty I take,"
Modestus said, with archness on his brow,
Pray, why did not your father make
A gentleman of you?"
108. THE SHADOW ON THE BLIND.
Mr. Plum was retiring to rest one night,
He had just undressed and put out the light,
And pulled back the blind
As he peeped from behind
("Tis a custom with many to do so, you'll find), When, glancing his eye,
On the blinds on the opposite side-oh, fie!
Two shadows; each movement of course he could see
And the people were quarreling, evidently.
"Well, I never!" said Plum, as he witnessed the strife,
"I declare 'tis the minister beating his wife!”
The minister held a thick stick in his hand,
And his wife ran away as he shook the brand,
Whilst her shrieks and cries were quite shocking to hear, And the sounds came across most remarkably clear.
"Well, things are deceiving,
But seeing's believing,'
Said Plum to himself, as he turned into bed; "Now, who would have thought
That man would have fought,
And beaten his wife on her shoulders and head
With a great big stick
At least three inches thick?
I am sure her shrieks quite filled me with dread.
I've a great mind to bring
Before the church members; but no, I have read
A proverb which says, 'Least said soonest mended.
And thus Mr. Plum's mild soliloquy ended.
But, alas! Mr. Plum's eldest daughter, Miss Jane,
Saw the whole of the scene, and could not refrain
From telling Miss Spot, and Miss Spot told again
(Though of course in strict confidence) every one
Whom she happened to know, what the parson had done.
So the news spread abroad, and soon reached the ear
Of the parson himself, and he traced it, I hear,
To the author, Miss Jane. Jane could not deny
But at the same time she begged leave to defy
The parson to prove she had uttered a lie.
A church meeting was called: Mr. Plum made a speech.
He said, "Friends, pray listen awhile, I beseech.
What my daughter has said is most certainly true,
For I saw the whole scene on the same evening, too;
But, not wishing to make an unpleasantness rife,
I did not tell either my daughter or wife.
But of course as Miss Jane saw the whole of the act,
I think it but right to attest to the fact."
""Tis remarkably strange!" the parson replied:
"It is plain Mr. Plum must something have spied;
Though the wife-beating story of course is denied;
And in that I can say I am grossly belied."
While he ransacks his brain, and ponders, and tries
To recall any scene that could ever give rise
To so monstrous a charge,—just then his wife cries,
"I have it, my love: you remember that night
When I had such a horrible, terrible fright.
We both were retiring that evening to rest,—
I was seated, my dear, and but partly undressed,
When a nasty large rat jumped close to my feet;
My shrieking was heard, I suppose, in the street;
You caught up the poker and ran round the room,
And at last knocked the rat, and so sealed its doom.
Our shadows, my love, must have played on the blind;
And this is the mystery solved, you will find."
Don't believe every tale that is handed about;
We have all enough faults and real failings, without
Being burdened with those of which there's a doubt.
If you study this tale, I think, too, you will find
That a light should be placed in the front, not behind:
For often strange shadows are seen on the blind.
109. THE MARCH TO MOSCOW.-Robert Southey.
The Emperor Nap he would set off
On a summer excursion to Moscow;
The fields were green and the sky was blue,-
Morbleu! Parbleu!
What a pleasant excursion to Moscow!
The Emperor Nap he talked so big
That he frightened Mr. Roscoe.
John Bull, he cries, if you'll be wise,
Ask the Emperor Nap if he will please
To grant you peace, upon your knees,
Because he is going to Moscow!
He'll make all the Poles come out of their holes,
And beat the Russians, and eat the Prussians;
For the fields are green, and the sky is blue,—
Morbleu! Parbleu!
And he'll certainly march to Moscow!
And Counsellor Brougham was all in a fume
At the thought of the march to Moscow:
The Russians, he said, they were undone,
And the great Fee-Faw-Fum
Would presently come,
With a hop, step and jump, unto London.
But the Russians stoutly they turned to
Upon the road to Moscow.
Nap had to fight his way all through.
They could fight, though they could not parlez vous; But the fields were green, and the sky was blue,— Morbleu! Parbleu!
And so he got to Moscow.
He found the place too warm for him,
For they set fire to Moscow.
To get there had cost him much ado,
And then no better course he knew,
While the fields were green, and the sky was blue,Morbleu! Parbleu!
But to march back again from Moscow.
The Russians they stuck close to him
All on the road from Moscow.
There was Tormazow and Jemalow,
And all the others that end in ow;
Milarodovitch and Jaladovitch,
And Karatschkowitch,
And all the others that end in itch;
Schamscheff, Souchosaneff,
And Schepaleff,
And all the others that end in eff;
Wasiltschikoff, Kostomaroff,
And Tchoglokoff,
And all the others that end in off;
Rajeffsky, and Novereffsky,
And Rieffsky,
And all the others that end in effsky;
Oscharoffsky and Rostoffsky,
And all the others that end in offsky;
And Platoff he play'd them off,
And Shouvaloff he shovelled them off,
And Markoff he marked them off,
And Krosnoff he crossed them off,
And Tuchkoff he touched them off,
And Boraskoff he bored them off,
And Kutousoff he cut them off,
And Parenzoff he pared them off,
And Worronzoff he worried them off,
And Doctoroff he doctored them off,
And Rodionoff he flogged them off,
And, last of all, an admiral came,
A terrible man with a terrible name,
A name which you all know by sight very well,
But which no one can speak, and no one can spell.
They stuck close to Nap with all their might;
They were on the left and on the right,
Behind and before, and by day and by night;
He would rather parlez vous than fight;
But he looked white, and he looked blue,
Morbleu! Parbleu!
When parlez vous no more would do,
For they remembered Moscow.
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