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MR. ROBINSON CRUSOE.
The whole of the rooms,
Which he fairly presumes, Folk who visit the place will be anxious to get ; And so, with proper precaution and tact, He sticks up a bill announcing the fact.
After some time has past, Mr. Crusoe at last,
Finds his garments are shewing
Some symptoms of going;
And builds him a garment,
Yet fits free and easy ;
And being for a hat, too, extremely hard up,
Things now proceed, as well as they need,
'Till Crusoe one day hears some very odd rumbling,
And vexed that such numerous evils chould fall on him, Vows he 'll see no one who may chance to call on him.
Restored to his health, he walks out on the hill,
In a state of dejection,
Caused by the reflection, That none came to ask for him while he lay ill ;
But while he's so wandering,
There on the ground-distinctly in view,
Oh! can it be true ?
Am I destined anew,
After having been king,
Dan O'Connell, Tom Steele.
For my rent to be axed,
And all sort of new rates ;
PREPARATIONS FOR SELF-DEFENCE-CRUSOE'S FEARS ALLAYED-A PIC-NIC AND A COUPLE OF BALLS-A PRISONER EMANCIPATED
ANOTHER FESTIVAL-WARM RECEPTION OF THE STRANGERS-MEETING OF RELATIVES-HINTS AS TO DIET
ADDITIONAL COMFORTS OF CRUSOE'S LIFE.
Having made his resolve
And full of alarms,
When, thank heaven, he sees,
As he peeps through the trees,
A body of men
They are only a party of savages met
He looks for a while,
With sarcastical smile, On the pastimes with which they the moments beguile; He do n't admire greatly their dancing or gestures, And thinks them scarce modest enough in their vestures ; Though, indeed, he for this has no manner of reason, From his not having been to the ballet this season ;
And leave two of their party behind as they fiy,
The hapless young man
Wliom to roast they began,
But he soon finds that Crusoe
He do n't look on as good,
So he leaves him his life and his liberty too,
Whatsoever his master desires him to do, Says he 'll give him no drubbing, unless he should need 'em, Which means, he explains to him, rational freedom ;
Then dresses him out in a livery tidy,
If he had been, the costumes were so very like,
When tired of their hop,
The poor savages stop,
Whom they intend grilling by way of repast, —
And thinks it most vile
That, as lord of the isle,
to a sense of their rudeness recalls,-
But they in amaze
At the uproar and blaze,-
And gives him the pleasant cognomen of Fryday, As a sort of memento which he should have by him, Of his saving his life when his friends meant to fry him ;
But the savages, who it would seem were just then In their gay season, visit the island again,
With a larger repast
Than they brought with them last, For they number, this visit, full three score and ten ;
And to vary the thing,
Along with them they bring, -
Who, in spite of their wishes,
From which, in the eatable way, it would seem
And being a gourmand, 't is only by beating him,
An amiable Spaniard, of whom—to their shame
Lets fly a great volley,
Just as they 're most jolly,
Not used to proceedings so very enlightened),
But Friday, poor boy!
How great is his joy!
NEW VISITORS-A STERN CHASER-A KING'S SPEECH-A PATHETIC PAREWELL-DEPARTURE AND ARRIVAL.
For the horrible act
But, after a while,
By some destiny vile
One morning, slap-bang!
A mutinous gang
And, resolved upon fun,
Are to him all the same-
“ done!" Which makes them as fast as the savages run;
While, hit by a shot,
Which they meant to transact, And addresses them thus with abundance of tact:“Fellow countrymen,-after so many long years Of absence, I scarce can refrain shedding tears At meeting, in this remote region of earth, So many whose land is the land of my birth : I came here a boy, and this beautiful isle Was then a mere solitude ;—that noble pile Was then unerected ;-in these remote parts There were no manufactures- no tillage—no arts ! By my sole exertions--I say it with prideBy my sole exertions these wants were supplied : And now look around on this prosperous isle, See arts, agriculture,- see everything smile ; No lawyers, no doctors, no landlords, no rents, No Corn-laws, no Sliding-scale, no Three-per-cents., No changing of coin, no vile clipping of gold, No charge upon getting new sovereigns for old ! No villanous workhouses—no Income-tax !Heaven help the poor wights who have that on their backs ! Am I wrong, friends, in saying that this is the spot Where those who seek happiness should cast their lot ? As for you, friends, you have been convicted, 't is true, Of a crime which perhaps would find pardon from few : The soil of old England once venture to tread, Ah! my friends, you 'll be hanged by the neck till your dead! But can I permit this—will I, who can save, Allow you to fill thus a premature grave ? Oh! no, my friends, no, take this island, take all, Far sooner than into so sad a trap fall. For myself, friends, my duty recalls me, alas ! To my country, a very few months there to pass ; Take the isle, then, and Heaven grant that all may go smack And merrily forwards until I come backAnd when I do, trust me, you 'll bless me each day, For treating you all in so handsome a way;
And the rest Crusoe follows
O'er hills and through hollows, And brings them at last to a sudden stand-still By threatening to fire from the top of a hill; When, finding they're quite at his mercy, they all Down on their knees to capitulate fall. Crusoe, perceiving these signs of submission, Thinks it just the right time to excite their contrition