The Humourous Poetry of the English Language

663
crank, the Chapling comes into my cell, and he says, says he, "My man,"
he says, "how do you feel?" "'Appy, sir," says I, with a gentle sithe:
"thank you, sir: quite 'appy." "But you seem distressed, my poor
fellow," says he. "In body, sir," says I; "yes. But that makes me more
'appy. I'm glad to be distressed in body. It serves me right. But in
mind I'm 'appy: leastways almost 'appy." "'Ave you hany wish to
express," says he: "is there any request as you would like to make."
"'AWKER'S HEVENING POTION, sir," says I, "and the DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER:
if 'AWKER'S HEVENING POTION was but mine--and the DAIRYMAN'S
DAUGHTER--I think, sir, I should be quite 'appy." "My friend," says the
parson, "your desire shall be attended to," and hout he valked: me a
takin' a sight at 'im be'ind 'is back; for as soon as I thought he
wos out of 'earin', sings I to myself--
"Ven a prig," etc
In the chapel hof the Jug,
Then I did the meek and lowly,
Pullin' sitch a spoony mug
That I looked unkimmon pure and 'oly.
As loud as ever I could shout,
All the responses too I hutter'd,
Well knowing what I was about:
So the reverend Gent I buttered.
(Spoken.) Won day he comes to me arter service, and axes me what I
thought: I could do for myself in the way of yarnin a honest
liveliwood, if so be as I was to be allowed my liberty and to go back
to the world. "Ah! sir," says I, "I don't think no longer about the
world. 'Tis a world of sorrow and wanity, I havn't given a thought to
what I should do in it" "Every one," says the Chapling "has his sphere
of usefulness in society; can you think of no employment which you have
the desire and ability to follow?" "Well, sir," says I "if there is a
wocation which I should feel delight and pleasure in follerin 'tis that
of a Scripter Reader. But I ain't worthy to be a Scripter Reader. A
coal-porter of tracts and religious books, sir, I thinks that's what I
should like to try and be, if the time of my just punishment was up.
But there's near seven year, sir, to think about that--and p'raps
'tis better for me to be here." That's the way I used to soap the
Chapling--Cos vy?
"Ven a prig," etc.
So he thought I kissed the rod,