Comic Tales and Lyrical Fancies including The Chessiad, a Mock-Heroic, in Five Cantos; and The Wreath of Love, in Four Cantos. By C. Dibdin, the Younger |
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PAT AND POP;
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 | Comic Tales and Lyrical Fancies |  |
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PAT AND POP;
OR, THE IRISHMAN'S DOG.
There is a maxim, old and just,
“Never to mere appearance trust;”
Like boys who think ice firm that's thin,
And, rashly sliding, tumble in
The stream below. I'd next enforce
A maxim pertinent as coarse—
“The saddle put o' th' proper horse.”
“Never to mere appearance trust;”
Like boys who think ice firm that's thin,
And, rashly sliding, tumble in
The stream below. I'd next enforce
A maxim pertinent as coarse—
“The saddle put o' th' proper horse.”
An Irishman, who lov'd a drop,
A faithful terrier had, call'd Pop;
Pat's looks, together as they'd jog,
Said plainly, “Love me, love my dog;”
And Pop's, in comfort or disaster,
As plainly “Love me, love my master.”
A constant friendship seem'd to bind 'em,
And ever cheek-by-jowl you'd find 'em;
As Patrick call'd it—that's, d'ye mind,
Paddy before, and Pop behind;
Or Pat behind and Pop before.
Pat's food Pop oft in basket bore;
What time at morn to work Pat went,
(A bricklayer he) and Pop, intent
Still on his charge, while Pat work'd hard,
Stood o'er his master's dinner guard,
'Till meal-time came; then, goes the story,
They din'd together con amore.
A faithful terrier had, call'd Pop;
Pat's looks, together as they'd jog,
Said plainly, “Love me, love my dog;”
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As plainly “Love me, love my master.”
A constant friendship seem'd to bind 'em,
And ever cheek-by-jowl you'd find 'em;
As Patrick call'd it—that's, d'ye mind,
Paddy before, and Pop behind;
Or Pat behind and Pop before.
Pat's food Pop oft in basket bore;
What time at morn to work Pat went,
(A bricklayer he) and Pop, intent
Still on his charge, while Pat work'd hard,
Stood o'er his master's dinner guard,
'Till meal-time came; then, goes the story,
They din'd together con amore.
As Pat was strolling once with Pop,
Approaching an old iron shop,
A bright brass collar caught his eye,
Which he resolv'd for Pop to buy:
With red Morocco lining grac'd;
It's smartness prov'd Pat's love and taste.
Pat a small blunder made indeed,
As he'd done once before; how, read:
A milkman with his cows he meets—
Common the sight in London streets—
Who, “New milk from the cow,” his cry,
Milk'd it before who came to buy.
To Pat one said,—“Now, that's all fair;
That's all neat milk,—no water there.”
Said Pat, “You're hoax'd, I'll state the case;
He milks the cows before your face—
What then? a wager lay I durst,
He makes the cows drink water first.”
Approaching an old iron shop,
A bright brass collar caught his eye,
Which he resolv'd for Pop to buy:
With red Morocco lining grac'd;
It's smartness prov'd Pat's love and taste.
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As he'd done once before; how, read:
A milkman with his cows he meets—
Common the sight in London streets—
Who, “New milk from the cow,” his cry,
Milk'd it before who came to buy.
To Pat one said,—“Now, that's all fair;
That's all neat milk,—no water there.”
Said Pat, “You're hoax'd, I'll state the case;
He milks the cows before your face—
What then? a wager lay I durst,
He makes the cows drink water first.”
Pat a small blunder made indeed,
As Pat no more than Pop could read.
The collar, which some dog before
Had worn, this plain inscription bore,
“John Snoltz, Esq. 4, Brompton Row.”
Its meaning Pat ne'er ask'd to know:
But, having for the collar paid,
He with it more distinguish'd made
Pop, who one ev'ning from him stray'd,
While Pat, who never once miss'd Pop,
Had saunter'd to a liquor shop:
Alas! 'tis often prov'd that drinking
Destruction is to sober thinking;
Though some think not, as practice tells.—
I recollect, at Sadler's Wells,
(A place which all the world must know),
A fact which here in proof shall go:—
A man who, in the gallery, sold
Refreshments, to keep out the cold,
Or heat, whene'er the curtain dropp'd
Between the acts, still forward popp'd
To sell his stores; his fruit in pottles;
His cakes in baskets; beer in bottles;
And loudly cried (from shame ne'er shrinking)
“Come, ladies, give your minds to drinking.”
Proh pudor! but return we now
To Paddy's truanting bow-wow,
Which stray'd: how tempted, proof there's not;
By chance, in Paul's Church-yard, he got
Into a shop; remark was made—
“This is some fav'rite terrier, stray'd;
To lose our pug how we should grieve!
Alone the house he shall not leave,
For back the way he may not know,
At night, so far as Brompton Row;
To-night a welcome guest we'll make him;
To-morrow, William, you shall take him
To Brompton Row; 'tis out of town,
So, doubtless, you'll get half-a-crown.”
As Pat no more than Pop could read.
The collar, which some dog before
Had worn, this plain inscription bore,
“John Snoltz, Esq. 4, Brompton Row.”
Its meaning Pat ne'er ask'd to know:
But, having for the collar paid,
He with it more distinguish'd made
Pop, who one ev'ning from him stray'd,
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Had saunter'd to a liquor shop:
Alas! 'tis often prov'd that drinking
Destruction is to sober thinking;
Though some think not, as practice tells.—
I recollect, at Sadler's Wells,
(A place which all the world must know),
A fact which here in proof shall go:—
A man who, in the gallery, sold
Refreshments, to keep out the cold,
Or heat, whene'er the curtain dropp'd
Between the acts, still forward popp'd
To sell his stores; his fruit in pottles;
His cakes in baskets; beer in bottles;
And loudly cried (from shame ne'er shrinking)
“Come, ladies, give your minds to drinking.”
Proh pudor! but return we now
To Paddy's truanting bow-wow,
Which stray'd: how tempted, proof there's not;
By chance, in Paul's Church-yard, he got
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“This is some fav'rite terrier, stray'd;
To lose our pug how we should grieve!
Alone the house he shall not leave,
For back the way he may not know,
At night, so far as Brompton Row;
To-night a welcome guest we'll make him;
To-morrow, William, you shall take him
To Brompton Row; 'tis out of town,
So, doubtless, you'll get half-a-crown.”
Next day a ribbon William tied
To Pop's gay collar, lest aside
His charge should slip, when off his guard,
And negligence preclude reward.
Thus on they trotted, comme il faut,
Till safe they came to Brompton Row;
At number 4, pleas'd, William knock'd;
A cautious hand the door unlock'd;
A sharp-fac'd woman William scann'd,
And cried, “Your business?” door in hand.
William responded, “Here I'm come
To know—is Mr. Snoltz at home?
I've brought his dog.”—She, cross in grain,
“Then you may take it back again.”
“Why?” he, “from Paul's Church-yard I come;
Tell me, is Mr. Snoltz at home?”
“He may be (she) for aught I know;
He left this house six months ago;
But may, if found at home, be seen
Six, Chester place, by Bethnal Green.”
Then, the door shutting in his face,
Left Will, who, grumbling, left the place;
But, order'd to find out Pop's master,
And half a crown expecting, faster
He trudg'd with Pop; resolved, by th' by,
His trouble so to magnify,
And work so well on Snoltz's feelings,
That haply he might get five shillings.
To Pop's gay collar, lest aside
His charge should slip, when off his guard,
And negligence preclude reward.
Thus on they trotted, comme il faut,
Till safe they came to Brompton Row;
At number 4, pleas'd, William knock'd;
A cautious hand the door unlock'd;
A sharp-fac'd woman William scann'd,
And cried, “Your business?” door in hand.
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To know—is Mr. Snoltz at home?
I've brought his dog.”—She, cross in grain,
“Then you may take it back again.”
“Why?” he, “from Paul's Church-yard I come;
Tell me, is Mr. Snoltz at home?”
“He may be (she) for aught I know;
He left this house six months ago;
But may, if found at home, be seen
Six, Chester place, by Bethnal Green.”
Then, the door shutting in his face,
Left Will, who, grumbling, left the place;
But, order'd to find out Pop's master,
And half a crown expecting, faster
He trudg'd with Pop; resolved, by th' by,
His trouble so to magnify,
And work so well on Snoltz's feelings,
That haply he might get five shillings.
To Bethnal Green, with briskest pace,
He went, and found out Chester Place:
Found No. 6, and found—a bore!—
Another name upon the door;
Not Mr. Snoltz, but Mr. Podger—
Thought he, “this Snoltz must be a lodger.”
He knock'd, a surly man out came,
Growl'd, “What d'ye want? and what's your name?”
“My name's no matter,” Will began:
“Is Mr. Snoltz at home?” The man—
“There was a Mr. Snoltz lived here.”
“And don't he now?” cried Will, with fear
Of losing all his hoped reward;
“Why, no!” the man, “but we've his card:
You'll find him with one Mr. Warner,
Next door but one to Hyde Park Corner.”
Imagine Will's extreme vexation
At this appalling information;
Conceive him grumbling on his way
To Hyde Park Corner:—hot the day;
His face just like a window pane
After a shower of April rain;
Parching with thirst; while, by the by,
Except his mouth no place was dry.
Think Hyde Park Corner in his view,
And judge his joy—the address was true!
He gave ('tween joy and apprehension)
A knock commanding quick attention;
And ask'd, 'twixt eager hope and fear,
“Pray, sir, does Mr. Snoltz live here?”
The footman, “Yes.” Will brighten'd fast,
O'erjoyed to be in luck at last.
“Is he at home?”—No.”—“I can wait,”
Said Will. “Your patience must be great,”
The footman said: “Bath's now his home;
He'll not be back three months to come.”
“Provoking!” Will rejoin'd. “All day
I've sought him; who my time will pay?
About his business told to go,
From Paul's Church-yard to Brompton Row;
From there to Bethnal Green; from there
To here; and he's at Bath: such fare
'S enough to make a parson swear.”
Said John, “What bus'ness made you jog?”
Said Will, “I've found your master's dog.”
Said John, “Good friend, you'll me excuse,
But master had no dog to lose.”
Cried Will, “This collar says not so—
‘John Snoltz, esquire, 4, Brompton Row.’
All day I've led the dog about,
To find his tiresome master out.”
“He had a dog,” Mess John replied,
“Which wore that collar, but he died:
I sold that collar to a Jew;
Good morning, I've my work to do.”
The door was closed, and Will—'twas hard—
Enraged, went back to Paul's Church-yard;
His story told in woful strains,
And got well laugh'd at for his pains:
A half-crown sooth'd him, and poor Pop
Was enter'd inmate of the shop;
Well fed, well slept, made sleek and fat,
To Pug devoted, lost to Pat;
Who, though the loss had grieved his heart,
Reflected that “best friends must part,”
And thought on't little after that;
While Pop as little thought of Pat.
It chanced the house, while Pop was there,
Wanted, as houses will, repair:
Pat's master undertook to do it,
And brought Pat with him to review it.
The moment Pat stalk'd into th' shop,
“Hurrah!” cried Pat; “Bow-wow!” cried Pop:
Pat flew to Pop, Pop jump'd on Pat;
“Fait, Pop,” cried he, “come out o' that.”
“Know you that dog?” Will's master said.
“Know him!” cried Pat, and scratch'd his head,
“He's mine: one day I lost him, mind me,
“And see, he's overjoyed to find me.”
Will's master: “If the dog you claim,
On's collar why another's name?
The owner of that name I sought;
And had he but in town been caught,
And own'd the dog, I had resign'd him.”
Said Pat, “All's right; I'm glad to find him;
“He's mine; I bought the collar.” “Why
Not 'rase the name then?” the reply—
Twirling his thumbs, “The name!” cried Pat;
“Och, hone! I never thought of that:
But then, what matters? Pop when shown him,
That man, if honest, wouldn't own him;
Though, if a rogue, he Pop had claim'd,
Whoever on the brass was named:
Call Pop by any name that's known,
He'll only answer to his own;
And on his neck whatever name
'Twould be to Poppy all the same,
He couldn't rade it; so, 'tis plain,
If lost, to find himself again,
As he the name could never know,
To that man's house he'd never go;
But if you took him there 'tis sign
The fault was neither his nor mine.”
Pat's cogent reasoning raised i' th' minute
A general laugh, and Pat join'd in it.
His heart, relieved, was light as feather;
And Pat and Pop went home together.
He went, and found out Chester Place:
49
Another name upon the door;
Not Mr. Snoltz, but Mr. Podger—
Thought he, “this Snoltz must be a lodger.”
He knock'd, a surly man out came,
Growl'd, “What d'ye want? and what's your name?”
“My name's no matter,” Will began:
“Is Mr. Snoltz at home?” The man—
“There was a Mr. Snoltz lived here.”
“And don't he now?” cried Will, with fear
Of losing all his hoped reward;
“Why, no!” the man, “but we've his card:
You'll find him with one Mr. Warner,
Next door but one to Hyde Park Corner.”
Imagine Will's extreme vexation
At this appalling information;
Conceive him grumbling on his way
To Hyde Park Corner:—hot the day;
His face just like a window pane
After a shower of April rain;
50
Except his mouth no place was dry.
Think Hyde Park Corner in his view,
And judge his joy—the address was true!
He gave ('tween joy and apprehension)
A knock commanding quick attention;
And ask'd, 'twixt eager hope and fear,
“Pray, sir, does Mr. Snoltz live here?”
The footman, “Yes.” Will brighten'd fast,
O'erjoyed to be in luck at last.
“Is he at home?”—No.”—“I can wait,”
Said Will. “Your patience must be great,”
The footman said: “Bath's now his home;
He'll not be back three months to come.”
“Provoking!” Will rejoin'd. “All day
I've sought him; who my time will pay?
About his business told to go,
From Paul's Church-yard to Brompton Row;
From there to Bethnal Green; from there
To here; and he's at Bath: such fare
'S enough to make a parson swear.”
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Said Will, “I've found your master's dog.”
Said John, “Good friend, you'll me excuse,
But master had no dog to lose.”
Cried Will, “This collar says not so—
‘John Snoltz, esquire, 4, Brompton Row.’
All day I've led the dog about,
To find his tiresome master out.”
“He had a dog,” Mess John replied,
“Which wore that collar, but he died:
I sold that collar to a Jew;
Good morning, I've my work to do.”
The door was closed, and Will—'twas hard—
Enraged, went back to Paul's Church-yard;
His story told in woful strains,
And got well laugh'd at for his pains:
A half-crown sooth'd him, and poor Pop
Was enter'd inmate of the shop;
Well fed, well slept, made sleek and fat,
To Pug devoted, lost to Pat;
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Reflected that “best friends must part,”
And thought on't little after that;
While Pop as little thought of Pat.
It chanced the house, while Pop was there,
Wanted, as houses will, repair:
Pat's master undertook to do it,
And brought Pat with him to review it.
The moment Pat stalk'd into th' shop,
“Hurrah!” cried Pat; “Bow-wow!” cried Pop:
Pat flew to Pop, Pop jump'd on Pat;
“Fait, Pop,” cried he, “come out o' that.”
“Know you that dog?” Will's master said.
“Know him!” cried Pat, and scratch'd his head,
“He's mine: one day I lost him, mind me,
“And see, he's overjoyed to find me.”
Will's master: “If the dog you claim,
On's collar why another's name?
The owner of that name I sought;
And had he but in town been caught,
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Said Pat, “All's right; I'm glad to find him;
“He's mine; I bought the collar.” “Why
Not 'rase the name then?” the reply—
Twirling his thumbs, “The name!” cried Pat;
“Och, hone! I never thought of that:
But then, what matters? Pop when shown him,
That man, if honest, wouldn't own him;
Though, if a rogue, he Pop had claim'd,
Whoever on the brass was named:
Call Pop by any name that's known,
He'll only answer to his own;
And on his neck whatever name
'Twould be to Poppy all the same,
He couldn't rade it; so, 'tis plain,
If lost, to find himself again,
As he the name could never know,
To that man's house he'd never go;
But if you took him there 'tis sign
The fault was neither his nor mine.”
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A general laugh, and Pat join'd in it.
His heart, relieved, was light as feather;
And Pat and Pop went home together.
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