Band, and gusset, and seam, Seam, and gusset, and band, Till the heart is sick and the brain benumbed3, 8. "Work-work-work! In the dull December light; And work-work-work! When the weather is warm and bright; While underneath the eaves The brooding swallows cling, As if to show me their sunny backs, 9. "O, but to breathe the breath Of the cowslip and primrose sweet, And the grass beneath my feet! For only one short hour To feel as I used to feel, Before I knew the woes of want, And the walk that costs a meal! 10. "O, but for one short hour! No blesséd leisure for love or hope, A little weeping would ease my heart— My tears must stop, for every drop 11. With fingers weary and worn, In poverty, hunger, and dirt, And still, with a voice of dolorous pitch, - I DŎL'O-ROŬS. Sorrowful; painful. • A-LÔÔF'. At a distance; apart. 3 BE-NUMBED'. Made torpid. XCV.-A CURTAIN LECTURE OF MRS. CAUDLE. JERROLD. [Douglas William Jerrold was born in London in 1803, and died in 1857. He was first a midshipman in the navy, then a printer, and lastly, a man of letters by profession. His "Caudle Lectures" were published in the London Punch, and extensively read in England and America.] 1. BAH! that's the third umbrella gone since Christmas. What were you to do? Why, let him go home in the rain, to be sure. I'm very certain there was nothing about him that could spoil. Take cold, indeed! He doesn't look like one of the sort to take cold. Besides, he'd have better taken cold than taken our umbrella. - Do you hear the rain, Mr. Caudle? I say, do you hear the rain? And, as I'm alive, if it isn't St. Swithin's day!* Do you hear it against the window? ? 2. Nonsense: you don't impose upon me; you can't be asleep with such a shower as that! Do you hear it, I say O, you do hear it! Well, that's a pretty flood, I think, to last for six weeks; and no stirring all the time out of the house. Pooh! don't think me a fool, Mr. Caudle; don't insult me! he return the umbrella! Any body would think you were born yesterday. As if any body ever did return an umbrella! There is an old superstition in England that if it rains on St. Swithin's day (15th July), not one of the next forty days will be wholly without rain. Cats 3. There: do you hear it? Worse and worse. and dogs, and for six weeks: always six weeks; and no umbrella! I should like to know how the children are to go to school to-morrow. They shan't go through such weather; I am determined. No; they shall stop at home, and never learn any thing, the blessed creatures! sooner than go and get wet! And when they grow up, I wonder who they'll have to thank for knowing nothing; who, indeed, but their father! People who can't feel for their own children ought never to be fathers. 4. But I know why you lent the umbrella: O, yes, I know very well. I was going out to tea at dear mother's to-morrow: you knew that, and you did it on purpose. Don't tell me; you hate to have me go there, and take every mean advantage to hinder me. But don't you think it, Mr. Caudle; no, sir: if it comes down in buckets' full, I'll go all the more. 5. No; and I won't have a cab!' Where do you think the money's to come from? You've got nice high notions at that club of yours? A cab, indeed! Cost me sixteenpence, at least sixteen-pence! two-and-eight-pence; for there's back again. Cabs, indeed! I should like to know who's to pay for 'em; for I'm sure you can't, if you go on as you do, throwing away your property, and beggaring your children, buying umbrellas! 6. Do you hear the rain, Mr. Caudle? I say, do you hear it? But I don't care; I'll go to mother's to-morrow - I will; and what's more, I'll walk every step of the way; and you know that will give me my death. — Don't call me a foolish woman; it's you that's the foolish man. You know I can't wear clogs; and with no umbrella, the wet's sure to give me a cold- it always does. But what do you care for that? Nothing at all. I may be laid up for all you care, as I dare say I shall; and a pretty doctor's bill there'll be. I hope there will. It will teach you to lend your umbrellas again. I shouldn't wonder if I caught my death: yes, and that's what you lent the umbrella for. Of course! 3 7. Nice clothes I get, too, traipsing through weather like this! My gown and bonnet will be spoiled quite.I needn't wear 'em then. Indeed, Mr. Caudle, I shall wear 'em. No, sir; I am not going out a dowdy to please you or any body else. Gracious knows! it isn't often that I step over the threshold; indeed, I might as well be a slave at once: better, I should say; but when I do go out, Mr. Caudle, I choose to go as a lady. O, that rain! if it isn't enough to break in the windows. 8. Ugh! I look forward with dread to to-morrow! How I am to go to mother's, I am sure I can't tell, but if I die, I'll do it. No, sir; I won't borrow an umbrella: no; and you shan't buy one. (With great emphasis.) Mr. Caudle, if you bring home another umbrella, I'll throw it into the street. 9. Ha! and it was only last week I had a new nozzle put to that umbrella. I'm sure if I'd have known as much as I do now, it might have gone without one. Paying for new nozzles for other people to laugh at you! O, it's all very well for you; you can go to sleep. You've no thought of your poor patient wife, and your own dear children; you think of nothing but lending umbrellas! 10. Men, indeed! Call themselves lords of the creation! pretty lords, when they can't even take care of an umbrella! 11. I know that walk to-morrow will be the death of me, but that's what you want: then you may go to your club, and do as you like; and then nicely my poor dear children will be used; but then, sir, then you'll be happy. O, don't tell me! I know you will: else you'd never have lent the umbrella! 12. The children, dear things! they'll be soppino for they shan't stay at home; they shan't lose their learning; it's all their father will leave them, I'm sure. - But they shall go to school. Don't tell me they needn't: you are so aggravating, Caudle, you'd spoil the temper of an angel; they shall go to school! mark that: and if they get their deaths of cold, it's not my fault; I didn't lend the umbrella. 13. "Here," says Caudle, in his manuscript, "I fell asleep, and dreamed that the sky was turned into green calico, with whalebone ribs: that, in fact, the whole world. revolved under a tremendous umbrella!" 1 CAB. A kind of carriage, with two 3 TRAIPS'ING. A colloquial or low or four wheels, drawn by one word, meaning, running about idly horse. or carelessly. 1 CLOGS. A kind of overshoes, worn 4 AG'GRA-VAT-ING. Making worse; also to keep the feet dry. colloquially, provoking; irritating XCVI. - BERNARDO DEL CARPIO. MRS. HEMANS. [The celebrated Spanish champion, Bernardo del Carpio, having made many ineffectual efforts to procure the release of his father, the Count Saldana, who had been imprisoned by King Alfonso of Asturias, at last took up arms in despair. The war which he maintained proved so destructive that the men of the land gathered round the king, and united in demanding Saldana's liberty. Alfonso, accordingly, offered Bernardo immediate possession of his father's person in exchange for his castle of Carpio. Bernardo, without hesitation, gave up his stronghold, with all his captives, and being assured that his father, was then on his way from prison, rode forth with the king to meet him. "And when he saw his father approaching, he exclaimed," says the ancient chronicle, "O God! is the Count of Saldana indeed coming? 99 "Look where he is," replied the cruel king; "and now go and grect him whom you have so long desired to see." The remainder of the story will be found related in the ballad. The chronicles and romances leave us nearly in the dark as to Bernardo's history after this event.] 1. THE warrior bowed his crested head, and tamed his heart of fire, I pledge my faith, my liege1: my lord, O, break my father's chain!" |