Cups (with sugar and cream) of strong Gunpowder tea,
With a spoonful in each of some choice eau de vie,
Which with nine out of ten would perhaps disagree.
In fact, I and my son

Mix "black" with our "Hyson,"

Neither having the nerves of a bull or a bison,
And both hating brandy like what some call "pison."
No matter for that

He had called for his hat,

With the brim that I've said was so broad and so flat,
And his "specs" with the tortoise-shell rim, and his cane,
With the crutch-handled top, which he used to sustain
His steps in his walks, and to poke in the shrubs

And the grass, when unearthing his worms and his grubs
Thus armed, he set out on a ramble-alack!
He set out, poor dear Soul!

but he never came back!

"First" dinner-bell rang

Out its euphonious clang

At five-folks kept early hours then and the "Last"
Ding-dong'd, as it ever was wont, at half-past.
While Betsey, and Sally,

And Thompson, the Valet,

And every one else was beginning to bless himself,
Wondering the Knight had not come in to dress himself.
Quoth Betsey, "Dear me! why the fish will be cold!”
Quoth Sally," Good gracious! how 'Missis' will scold!"
Thompson, the Valet,

Looked gravely at Sally,

As who should say, "Truth must not always be told!”
Then expressing a fear lest the Knight might take cold.
Thus exposed to the dews,

Lambs'-wool stockings, and shoes,

Of each a fresh pair,

He put down to air,

And hung a clean shirt to the fire on a chair

Still the Master was absent-the Cook came and said "he Much fear'd, as the dinner had been so long ready,

The roast and the boil'd
Would be all of it spoil'd,

And the puddings, her Ladyship thought such a treat,
He was morally sure, would be scarce fit to eat!"
This closed the debate -

""Twould be folly to wait,"

Said the Lady, "Dish up! - Let the meal be served straight | And let two or three slices be put in a plate,

And kept hot for Sir Thomas, He 's lost, sure as fate!

And, a hundred to one, won't be home till it's late ! "

Captain Dugald MacBride then proceeded to face

The Lady at table, stood up, and said grace,

Then set himself down in Sir Thomas's place.

Wearily, wearily, all that night,

That live-long night, did the hours go by;
And the Lady Jane,

In grief and in pain,

She sat herself down to cry!

And Captain M'Bride

Who sat by her side

Though I really can't say that he actually cried,
At least had a tear in his eye!

As much as can well be expected, perhaps,

From very "young fellows" to very "old chaps; "
And if he had said

What he'd got in his head,

—and the next,

;

'T would have been "Poor old Buffer! he's certainly desa!'
The morning dawn'd, and the next,
And all the mansion were still perplex'd
No watch dog "bay'd a welcome home," as
A watch dog should, to the "Good Sir Thomas; "
No knocker fell

His approach to tell,

Not so much as a runaway ring at the bell
The Hall was as silent as a Hermit's cell.
Yet the Sun shone bright upon tower and tree,
And the meads smiled green as green may be,
And the dear little dickey birds caroll'd with glee,
And the lambs in the park skipp'd merry and free
Without, all was joy and harmony!

"And thus 't will be, -nor long the day, -
Ere we, like him, shall pass away!
Yon sun that now our bosom warms,

Shall shine, but shine on other forms;-
Yon Grove, whose choir so sweetly cheers
Us now, shall sound on other ears,
The joyous Lamb, as now, shall play,
But other eyes its sports survey-
The stream we loved shall roll as fair,
The flowery sweets, the trim Parterre,
Shall scent, as now, the ambient air,

The Tree, whose bending branches bear

The one loved name-shall yet be there;

But where the hand that carved it? - Where?"
These were hinted to me as

The very ideas

Which passed through the mind of the fair Lady Jane.
Her thoughts having taken a sombre-ish train
As she walked on the esplanade, to and again,
With Captain M'Bride,

Of course at her side,

Who could not look quite so forlorn, though he tried.
- An "idea," in fact, had got into HIS head,

That if "poor dear Sir Thomas" should really be dead,
It might be no bad "spec." to be there in his stead,
And, by simply contriving, in due time to wed

A lady who was young and fair,

A lady slim and tall,

To set himself down in comfort there
The Lord of Tapton* Hall.
Thinks he, "We have sent

Half over Kent,

And nobody knows how much money 's been spent,
Yet no one's been found to say which way he went!

The familiar abbreviation for Tappington Everard still in use among the tenant v. Vide Prefatory Introduction to the Ingoldsby Legends.

The groom, who's been over

To Folkstone ard Dover,

Can't get any tidings at all of the rover

Here's a fortnight and more has gone by, and we 've tried
Every plan we could hit on the whole country-side,
Upon all its dead walls, with placards we've supplied,
And we've sent out the Crier, and had him well cried
MISSING!!

Stolen or strayed,

Lost or mislaid,

A GENTLEMAN; middle-aged, sober, and staid;
Stoops slightly- and when he left home was arrayed
In a sad-colored suit, somewhat dingy and fray'd;-
Had spectacles on with a tortoise-shell rim,

And a hat rather lower-crown'd, and broad in the brim,
Whoe'er

Shall bear

Or send him, with care,

(Right side uppermost) home; -or shall give notice where
The said middle-aged Gentleman is ; or shall state
Any fact that may tend to throw light on his fate,

To the man at the turnpike called TAPPINGTON-Gate,
Shall receive a REWARD OF FIVE POUNDS for his trouble

N. B. If defunct, the reward shall be double!

Had he been above ground

He MUST have been found.

No doubtless he's shot -or he's hang'd-
-or he's drown'd! -
Then his Widow-aye! aye! -

But, what will folks say?

To address her at once-at so early a day?

Well

what then? who cares? - let 'em say what they may
suffice it, her

A fig for their nonsense and chatter !

Charms will excuse one for casting sheep's eyes at her!

When a man has decided,

As Captain M'Bride did,

And once fully made up his mind on the matter, he
Can't be too prompt in unmasking his battery.

He began on the instant, and vow'd that "her eyes

Far exceeded in brilliance the stars in the skies,

That her lips were like roses her cheeks were like lilies
Her breath had the odor of daffy-down dillies!"

With a thousand more compliments equally true,

And expressed in similitudes equally new

Then his left arm he placed

Round her jimp, taper waist

Ere she fix'd to repulse, or return his embrace,
Up came running a man at a deuce of a pace,
With that very peculiar expression of face

Which always betokens dismay or disaster,

Crying out T was the Gardener-"Oh, ma'm! we 've found master !!* "Where? where ?" scream'd the lady; and Echo scream'd “Where?” The man couldn't say "There!

He had no breath to spare,

But, gasping for air, he could only respond

By pointing he pointed, alas!

TO THE POND!

-T was e'en so! poor dear Knight!

with his 'specs" and his hat

He'd gone poking his nose into this and that;

When, close to the side

Of the bank, he espied

An "unconiran fine" tadpole, remarkably fat;

He stooped;
His own;

Got hold of her tail,

When

and he thought her

he had caught her!

and to land almost brought her,

he plump'd head and heels into fifteen feet water !

The Lady Jane was tall and slim,

The Lady Jane was fair

Alas, for Sir Thomas! she grieved for him,

As she saw two serving-men, sturdy of limb,

His body between them bear.

She sobbed, and she sighed; she lamented, and cried,
For of sorrow brimful was her cup;

She swooned, and I think she'd have fallen down and died
If Captain MacBride

Had not been by her side,

With the Gardener; they both their assistance supplied,
And managed to hold her up

But, when she

comes to,"

Oh! 'tis shocking to view

The sight which the corpse reveals!

Sir Thomas's body,

It looked so odd

he

Was half eaten up by the eels!

His waistcoat and hose, and the rest of his clothes,
Were all gnawed through and through;

And out of each shoe

An eel they drew,

And from each of his pockets they pulled out two!,
And the gardener himself had secreted a few,
As well we may suppose;

For, when he came running to give the alarm,
He had six in the basket that hung on his arm.

Good Father John *

Was summoned anon;
Holy water was sprinkled,
And little bells tinkled,
And tapers were lighted,
And incense ignited,

And masses were sung and masses were said,

All day, for the quiet repose of the deau,

And all night no one thought of going to bed.

But Lady Jane was tall and slim,

And Lady Jane was fair,

And, ere morning came, that winsome dame

Had made up her mind- or, what's much the same,
Had thought about - once more "changing her name,'
And she said, with a pensive air,

To Thompson, the valet, while taking away,
When supper was over, the cloth and the tray,-

"Eels a many

I've ate; but any

So good ne'er tasted before!

For some account of Father John Ingoldsby, to whose papers I am so much ad holden, see Ingoldsby's Legends, first series, p. 216, (2d Edit.) This was thist ecclesiastical act of his long and valuable life.

They 're a fish, too, of which I'm remarkably fond. -
Go pop Sir Thomas again in the pond

Poor dear!' -HE'LL CATCH US SOME MORE!!”

MORAL.

All middle-aged gentlemen let me advise,

If

you 're married, and have not got very good eyes, Don't go poking about after blue-bottled flies!

If you've spectacles, don't have a tortoiseshell rim,
And don't go near the water, unless you can swim!

Married ladies, especially such as are fair,

Tall, and slim, I would next recommend to beware,
How, on losing one spouse, they give way to despair;
But let them reflect, "There are fish, and no doubt on 't
As good in the river as ever came out on 't!”

Should they light on a spouse who is given to roaming
In solitude raison de plus, in the "gloaming,"

Let them have a fixed time for said spouse to come home in
And if, when "last dinner-bell" 's rung, he is late,
To insure better manners in future - Do n't wait!

If of husband or children they chance to be fond,
Have a stout wire fence put all round the pond!
One more piece of advice, and I close my appeals -
That is - if you chance to be partial to eels,
Then-Crede experto trust one who has tried,
Have them spitch-cock'd,·

or stewed

they're too oily when frie

LXXVI.

EPITHETS.

The rules of rhyme have now been presented, together with a full vocabulary, by which the appropriate rhyme to any word may be found. The use of appropriate epithets by which animated descriptions may be given, or the measure of the verse filled out, comes now to be considered.**

An epithet is an adjective, expressing some real quality of the subject to which it is applied, or an attributive, expressing some quality ascribed to it; as a verdant lawn, a brilliant ap. pearance, a just man, an accurate description.

* See page 166, under Description, for some remarks and suggestions with regard to epithets.