 | Under Cross and Crescent |  |
14
“SOMEBODY'S DARLING”
An old Jew dwells by the river strand,
Who deals in treasures beyond compare;
At least so he says, as his dirty hand
With its diamond rings, he will wave to where
The lumber is piled to the very top
Of the dingy room at the back of the shop.
Who deals in treasures beyond compare;
At least so he says, as his dirty hand
With its diamond rings, he will wave to where
The lumber is piled to the very top
Of the dingy room at the back of the shop.
And this old Jew, in spite of his rings,
And his dirty hands, and his cunning eye,
And the musty, fusty, smell that clings
To the dusty den where his treasures lie,
Is, nevertheless, a friend of mine,
Whom I often visit when days are fine.
And his dirty hands, and his cunning eye,
And the musty, fusty, smell that clings
To the dusty den where his treasures lie,
Is, nevertheless, a friend of mine,
Whom I often visit when days are fine.
15
And he welcomes me with so broad a smile,
And brings forth his wares with so good a grace,
That I like to believe, for all the guile
I read in each line of his wrinkled face,
That of all his buyers he likes me best,
And cheats me less than he cheats the rest.
And brings forth his wares with so good a grace,
That I like to believe, for all the guile
I read in each line of his wrinkled face,
That of all his buyers he likes me best,
And cheats me less than he cheats the rest.
So, to-day, because it was bright and dry,
And a gnawing memory gave me pain,
Till, in self-defence, I was bound to try
Some sort of an antidote for my bane,
I set forth early, and took my way
To the tumble-down shop where his treasures lay.
And a gnawing memory gave me pain,
Till, in self-defence, I was bound to try
Some sort of an antidote for my bane,
I set forth early, and took my way
To the tumble-down shop where his treasures lay.
For it may seem strange, but to some strange minds
There is no such balm for an aching heart
As the thrill of triumph with which one finds
Some truly historical work of art,
Or even some worthless, inferior thing
To do with a hero or favourite king.
There is no such balm for an aching heart
As the thrill of triumph with which one finds
Some truly historical work of art,
Or even some worthless, inferior thing
To do with a hero or favourite king.
16
Just think! in one's very own hand to take
And hold for ever, as priceless prize,
The fork that once toasted King Alfred's cake,
Or the irons that put out Prince Arthur's eyes,—
The cup that was drain'd in Fair Rosamond's bow'r,
Or the pillow that smother'd the lads in the Tow'r!
And hold for ever, as priceless prize,
The fork that once toasted King Alfred's cake,
Or the irons that put out Prince Arthur's eyes,—
The cup that was drain'd in Fair Rosamond's bow'r,
Or the pillow that smother'd the lads in the Tow'r!
(I may state at once I possess all these,
And a good many more that I need not name,
And that man indeed must be hard to please
Who should cast aspersions upon the same,
Or doubt the authentic historical worth
Of anything else I may chance to unearth!)
And a good many more that I need not name,
And that man indeed must be hard to please
Who should cast aspersions upon the same,
Or doubt the authentic historical worth
Of anything else I may chance to unearth!)
But to-day, not much of a “find” was there;
Just a shred from the Field of the Cloth of Gold,
And a wisp of the young Pretender's hair,
And a portrait of Charles the First (when old),
And a scrap of the great Napoleon's heart,
(I believe that a rat ate the larger part).
Just a shred from the Field of the Cloth of Gold,
And a wisp of the young Pretender's hair,
And a portrait of Charles the First (when old),
And a scrap of the great Napoleon's heart,
(I believe that a rat ate the larger part).
17
But I got them cheap, so I turn'd about
And took my way to the low street-door,
Whilst the fresh-stirr'd memories elbow'd out
The ghosts that were haunting my heart before,
When, ere ever I reach'd the door of the shop,
The voice of my Jew-friend bade me stop.
And took my way to the low street-door,
Whilst the fresh-stirr'd memories elbow'd out
The ghosts that were haunting my heart before,
When, ere ever I reach'd the door of the shop,
The voice of my Jew-friend bade me stop.
“Here's the very thing! I had nigh forgot! . . .
Just as good as new, in a splendid frame,
And so like real that I call him ‘Spot,’
As one never can know his proper name.”
And he took from a shelf in a secret place
A little stuff'd dog in a cracked glass case.
Just as good as new, in a splendid frame,
And so like real that I call him ‘Spot,’
As one never can know his proper name.”
And he took from a shelf in a secret place
A little stuff'd dog in a cracked glass case.
“You're so fond of dogs, and I make no doubt
That this one has been a regular pet,—
There's a stain on his collar that won't come out,
But the bell's real silver, and tinkles yet.
And then look at the sense in his head and his face;
Why, he's just like Shakespeare in Hamilton Place!
That this one has been a regular pet,—
There's a stain on his collar that won't come out,
But the bell's real silver, and tinkles yet.
And then look at the sense in his head and his face;
Why, he's just like Shakespeare in Hamilton Place!
18
“And observe the fire that he's got in his eyes!
And they're both of a most expensive make—
At the Crystal Palace he'd win a prize
For his eyes alone, and he'd ‘take the cake’
From all the rest! You may mark my word
He's an animal fit to belong to a lord!
And they're both of a most expensive make—
At the Crystal Palace he'd win a prize
For his eyes alone, and he'd ‘take the cake’
From all the rest! You may mark my word
He's an animal fit to belong to a lord!
“. . . His hair comes off?. . . Why, of course it do!. . .
And so would yours in a place like this!
But just you take him and comb him through,
And pat him, and pet him, and give him a kiss;
And he'll grow in beauty ever so much,
And get quite life-like under your touch!”
And so would yours in a place like this!
But just you take him and comb him through,
And pat him, and pet him, and give him a kiss;
And he'll grow in beauty ever so much,
And get quite life-like under your touch!”
So he rattled on: “See his tail,—that pert! . . .
He's the prettiest creature you ever saw,
Worth his weight in gold, and as cheap as dirt;
And look at the turn of that right-hand paw,
Held out so natural,—ready to shake,—
He's been somebody's darling and no mistake!
He's the prettiest creature you ever saw,
Worth his weight in gold, and as cheap as dirt;
And look at the turn of that right-hand paw,
Held out so natural,—ready to shake,—
He's been somebody's darling and no mistake!
19
“And he's one as any one ought to afford,
For he pays no tax, and he eats no stew;
And you see he's been stuff'd by Mr. Ward,
Who charged twenty pound, if he charged a sou;
Yet, with all his beauty and all his sense,
You can have him now for eighteenpence!”
For he pays no tax, and he eats no stew;
And you see he's been stuff'd by Mr. Ward,
Who charged twenty pound, if he charged a sou;
Yet, with all his beauty and all his sense,
You can have him now for eighteenpence!”
Thus spoke my friend, nor would be denied,
So I bought that dog, and I brought him here;
As a capital cure for the sin of pride,
I shall brush and pepper him twice a year,
Whilst I muse on the ups and downs that may
Come to somebody's darling every day.
So I bought that dog, and I brought him here;
As a capital cure for the sin of pride,
I shall brush and pepper him twice a year,
Whilst I muse on the ups and downs that may
Come to somebody's darling every day.
“Somebody's darling and no mistake!”
(The old Jew's accents ring in my ear,)
And all of “a most expensive make”
(A joyous life that was bright and dear!).
To think that what once possess'd beauty and sense
Should go for so little as eighteenpence!
(The old Jew's accents ring in my ear,)
And all of “a most expensive make”
(A joyous life that was bright and dear!).
To think that what once possess'd beauty and sense
Should go for so little as eighteenpence!
| Under Cross and Crescent | |