To any Merman TIMBS.

But Mermen didn't seem to care Much time (as far as I'm aware) With CLEGGS'S legs to spend; Though Mermaids swam around all day And gazed, exclaiming, "THAT'S the way A gentleman should end!

"A pair of legs with well-cut knees, And calves and ankles such as these Which we in rapture hail, Are far more eloquent, it's clear (When clothed in silk and kerseymere), Than any nasty tail."

And CLEGGS--a worthy kind old boy-- Rejoiced to add to others' joy, And, when the day was dry, Because it pleased the lookers-on, He sat from morn till night--though con- St.i.tutionally shy.

At first the Mermen laughed, "Pooh! pooh!"

But finally they jealous grew, And sounded loud recalls; But vainly. So these fishy males Declared they too would clothe their tails In silken hose and smalls.

They set to work, these water-men, And made their nether robes--but when They drew with dainty touch The kerseymere upon their tails, They found it sc.r.a.ped against their scales, And hurt them very much.

The silk, besides, with which they chose To deck their tails by way of hose (They never thought of shoon), For such a use was much too thin,-- It tore against the caudal fin, And "went in ladders" soon.

So they designed another plan: They sent their most seductive man This note to him to show-- "Our Monarch sends to CAPTAIN CLEGGS His humble compliments, and begs He'll join him down below;

"We've pleasant homes below the sea-- Besides, if CAPTAIN CLEGGS should be (As our advices say) A judge of Mermaids, he will find Our lady-fish of every kind Inspection will repay."

Good CAPEL sent a kind reply, For CAPEL thought he could descry An admirable plan To study all their ways and laws-- (But not their lady-fish, because He was a married man).

The Merman sank--the Captain too Jumped overboard, and dropped from view Like stone from catapult; And when he reached the Merman's lair, He certainly was welcomed there, But, ah! with what result?

They didn't let him learn their law, Or make a note of what he saw, Or interesting mem.: The lady-fish he couldn't find, But that, of course, he didn't mind-- He didn't come for them.

For though, when CAPTAIN CAPEL sank, The Mermen drawn in double rank Gave him a hearty hail, Yet when secure of CAPTAIN CLEGGS, They cut off both his lovely legs, And gave him SUCH a tail!

When CAPTAIN CLEGGS returned aboard, His blithesome crew convulsive roar'd, To see him altered so.

The Admiralty did insist That he upon the Half-pay List Immediately should go.

In vain declared the poor old salt, "It's my misfortune--not my fault,"

With tear and trembling lip-- In vain poor CAPEL begged and begged.

"A man must be completely legged Who rules a British ship."

So spake the stern First Lord aloud-- He was a wag, though very proud, And much rejoiced to say, "You're only half a captain now-- And so, my worthy friend, I vow You'll only get half-pay!"

Ballad: Annie Protheroe. A Legend of Stratford-Le-Bow

Oh! listen to the tale of little ANNIE PROTHEROE.

She kept a small post-office in the neighbourhood of BOW; She loved a skilled mechanic, who was famous in his day-- A gentle executioner whose name was GILBERT CLAY.

I think I hear you say, "A dreadful subject for your rhymes!"

O reader, do not shrink--he didn't live in modern times!

He lived so long ago (the sketch will show it at a glance) That all his actions glitter with the lime-light of Romance.

In busy times he laboured at his gentle craft all day-- "No doubt you mean his Cal-craft," you amusingly will say-- But, no--he didn't operate with common bits of string, He was a Public Headsman, which is quite another thing.

And when his work was over, they would ramble o'er the lea, And sit beneath the frondage of an elderberry tree, And ANNIE'S simple prattle entertained him on his walk, For public executions formed the subject of her talk.

And sometimes he'd explain to her, which charmed her very much, How famous operators vary very much in touch, And then, perhaps, he'd show how he himself performed the trick, And ill.u.s.trate his meaning with a poppy and a stick.

Or, if it rained, the little maid would stop at home, and look At his favourable notices, all pasted in a book, And then her cheek would flush--her swimming eyes would dance with joy In a glow of admiration at the prowess of her boy.

One summer eve, at supper-time, the gentle GILBERT said (As he helped his pretty ANNIE to a slice of collared head), "This reminds me I must settle on the next ensuing day The hash of that unmitigated villain PETER GRAY."

He saw his ANNIE tremble and he saw his ANNIE start, Her changing colour trumpeted the flutter at her heart; Young GILBERT'S manly bosom rose and sank with jealous fear, And he said, "O gentle ANNIE, what's the meaning of this here?"

And ANNIE answered, blushing in an interesting way, "You think, no doubt, I'm sighing for that felon PETER GRAY: That I was his young woman is unquestionably true, But not since I began a-keeping company with you."

Then GILBERT, who was irritable, rose and loudly swore He'd know the reason why if she refused to tell him more; And she answered (all the woman in her flashing from her eyes) "You mustn't ask no questions, and you won't be told no lies!

"Few lovers have the privilege enjoyed, my dear, by you, Of chopping off a rival's head and quartering him too!

Of vengeance, dear, to-morrow you will surely take your fill!"

And GILBERT ground his molars as he answered her, "I will!"

Young GILBERT rose from table with a stern determined look, And, frowning, took an inexpensive hatchet from its hook; And ANNIE watched his movements with an interested air-- For the morrow--for the morrow he was going to prepare!

He chipped it with a hammer and he chopped it with a bill, He poured sulphuric acid on the edge of it, until This terrible Avenger of the Majesty of Law Was far less like a hatchet than a dissipated saw.

And ANNIE said, "O GILBERT, dear, I do not understand Why ever you are injuring that hatchet in your hand?'

He said, "It is intended for to lacerate and flay The neck of that unmitigated villain PETER GRAY!"

"Now, GILBERT," ANNIE answered, "wicked headsman, just beware-- I won't have PETER tortured with that horrible affair; If you appear with that, you may depend you'll rue the day."

But GILBERT said, "Oh, shall I?" which was just his nasty way.

He saw a look of anger from her eyes distinctly dart, For ANNIE was a woman, and had pity in her heart!

She wished him a good evening--he answered with a glare; She only said, "Remember, for your ANNIE will be there!"

The morrow GILBERT boldly on the scaffold took his stand, With a vizor on his face and with a hatchet in his hand, And all the people noticed that the Engine of the Law Was far less like a hatchet than a dissipated saw.

The felon very coolly loosed his collar and his stock, And placed his wicked head upon the handy little block.

The hatchet was uplifted for to settle PETER GRAY, When GILBERT plainly heard a woman's voice exclaiming, "Stay!"

'Twas ANNIE, gentle ANNIE, as you'll easily believe.

"O GILBERT, you must spare him, for I bring him a reprieve, It came from our Home Secretary many weeks ago, And pa.s.sed through that post-office which I used to keep at Bow.

"I loved you, loved you madly, and you know it, GILBERT CLAY, And as I'd quite surrendered all idea of PETER GRAY, I quietly suppressed it, as you'll clearly understand, For I thought it might be awkward if he came and claimed my hand.

"In anger at my secret (which I could not tell before), To lacerate poor PETER GRAY vindictively you swore; I told you if you used that blunted axe you'd rue the day, And so you will, young GILBERT, for I'll marry PETER GRAY!"

[And so she did.