The Ingoldsby Legends or, Mirth and Marvels. By Thomas Ingoldsby [i.e. R. H. Barham] |
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 | The Ingoldsby Legends |  |
There's a hue and a cry through the County of Kent,
And in chase of the cut-throats a Constable's sent,
But no one can tell the man which way they went.
There's a little Foot-page with that Constable goes,
And a little pug-dog with a little pug nose.
And in chase of the cut-throats a Constable's sent,
But no one can tell the man which way they went.
51
And a little pug-dog with a little pug nose.
In Rochester town,
At the sign of the Crown,
Three shabby-genteel men are just sitting down
To a fat stubble-goose, with potatoes done brown;
When a little Foot-page
Rushes in, in a rage,
Upsetting the apple-sauce, onions, and sage.
That little Foot-page takes the first by the throat,
And a little pug-dog takes the next by the coat,
And a Constable seizes the one more remote;
And fair rose-nobles, and broad moidores,
The Waiter pulls out of their pockets by scores,
And the Boots and the Chambermaids run in and stare;
And the Constable says, with a dignified air,
“You're wanted, Gen'lemen, one and all,
For that 'ere precious lark at Tappington Hall!”
At the sign of the Crown,
Three shabby-genteel men are just sitting down
To a fat stubble-goose, with potatoes done brown;
When a little Foot-page
Rushes in, in a rage,
Upsetting the apple-sauce, onions, and sage.
That little Foot-page takes the first by the throat,
And a little pug-dog takes the next by the coat,
And a Constable seizes the one more remote;
And fair rose-nobles, and broad moidores,
The Waiter pulls out of their pockets by scores,
And the Boots and the Chambermaids run in and stare;
And the Constable says, with a dignified air,
“You're wanted, Gen'lemen, one and all,
For that 'ere precious lark at Tappington Hall!”
There's a black gibbet frowns upon Tappington Moor,
Where a former black gibbet has frown'd before;
It is as black as black may be,
And murderers there
Are dangling in air,
By one! by two! by three!
Where a former black gibbet has frown'd before;
It is as black as black may be,
And murderers there
Are dangling in air,
By one! by two! by three!
There's a horrid old hag in a steeple-crown'd hat,
Round her neck they have tied to a hempen cravat
A Dead Man's hand, and a dead Tom Cat.
They have tied up her thumbs, they have tied up her toes,
They have tied up her eyes, they have tied up her limbs,
Into Tappington mill-dam souse she goes,
With a whoop and a halloo!—“She swims!—She swims!”
Round her neck they have tied to a hempen cravat
A Dead Man's hand, and a dead Tom Cat.
They have tied up her thumbs, they have tied up her toes,
They have tied up her eyes, they have tied up her limbs,
Into Tappington mill-dam souse she goes,
With a whoop and a halloo!—“She swims!—She swims!”
52
They have dragg'd her to land,
And every one's hand
Is grasping a faggot, a billet, or brand,
When a queer-looking horseman, drest all in black,
Snatches up that old harridan just like a sack
To the crupper behind him, puts spurs to his hack,
Makes a dash through the crowd, and is off in a crack
No one can tell,
Though they guess pretty well,
Which way that grim rider and old woman go,
For all see he's a sort of infernal Ducrow;
And she scream'd so, and cried,
We may fairly decide
That the old woman did not much relish her ride!
And every one's hand
Is grasping a faggot, a billet, or brand,
When a queer-looking horseman, drest all in black,
Snatches up that old harridan just like a sack
To the crupper behind him, puts spurs to his hack,
Makes a dash through the crowd, and is off in a crack
No one can tell,
Though they guess pretty well,
Which way that grim rider and old woman go,
For all see he's a sort of infernal Ducrow;
And she scream'd so, and cried,
We may fairly decide
That the old woman did not much relish her ride!
| The Ingoldsby Legends | |