The Humourous Poetry of the English Language

310
The sturdy butcher seized upon the hint--
At least he seized upon the foremost wether--
And hugged and lugged and tugged him neck and crop
Just nolens volens through the open shop--
If tails come off he didn't care a feather--
Then walking to the door, and smiling grim,
He rubbed his forehead and his sleeve together--
"There!--I've CONciliated him!"
Again--good-humoredly to end our quarrel--
(Good humor should prevail!)
I'll fit you with a tale
Whereto is tied a moral.
Once on a time a certain English lass
Was seized with symptoms of such deep decline,
Cough, hectic flushes, every evil sign,
That, as their wont is at such desperate pass,
The doctors gave her over--to an ass.
Accordingly, the grisly Shade to bilk,
Each morn the patient quaffed a frothy bowl
Of assinine new milk,
Robbing a shaggy suckling of a foal
Which got proportionably spare and skinny--
Meanwhile the neighbors cried "Poor Mary Ann!
She can't get over it! she never can!"
When lo! to prove each prophet was a ninny,
The one that died was the poor wet-nurse Jenny.
To aggravate the case,
There were but two grown donkeys in the place;
And, most unluckily for Eve's sick daughter,
The other long-eared creature was a male,
Who never in his life had given a pail
Of milk, or even chalk and water.
No matter: at the usual hour of eight
Down trots a donkey to the wicket-gate,
With Mister Simon Gubbins on his back--
"Your sarvant, Miss--a werry spring-like day--
Bad time for hasses, though! good lack! good lack!
Jenny be dead, Miss--but I'ze brought ye Jack--