Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold By "F. Harald Williams"[i.e. F. W. O. Ward]. First Edition |
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TOD THE COSTER. I. |
 | Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold |  |
TOD THE COSTER. I.
Here's the king of all costers
That Whitechapel fosters,
Within its dark haven of mischief and muck;
This he looks, this he knows,
While his honest face glows
As he trundles along his magnificent truck,
With the freightage of fish
Or the fruits that are ripe,
And whatever you wish—
Not forgetting his pipe;
Any girl would feel fluttered or pleased with a nod—
When he passed with his cargo of treasures—from Tod.
That Whitechapel fosters,
Within its dark haven of mischief and muck;
This he looks, this he knows,
While his honest face glows
As he trundles along his magnificent truck,
With the freightage of fish
Or the fruits that are ripe,
And whatever you wish—
Not forgetting his pipe;
Any girl would feel fluttered or pleased with a nod—
When he passed with his cargo of treasures—from Tod.
He is cheeky and chatters,
And sometimes he scatters
A handful of nuts for the children about;
Though we cannot deny,
If the trade goes awry,
He is quite as prepared and as free with a clout.
In his waistcoat of red
And a wonderful hat,
With his confident tread
He looks jolly and fat.
Be it onions or apples, a herring or cod,
You are sure of fair dealing and measure with Tod.
And sometimes he scatters
A handful of nuts for the children about;
Though we cannot deny,
If the trade goes awry,
He is quite as prepared and as free with a clout.
In his waistcoat of red
And a wonderful hat,
With his confident tread
He looks jolly and fat.
Be it onions or apples, a herring or cod,
You are sure of fair dealing and measure with Tod.
He can tell a good story,
And swears he's a Tory
And sticks to his Church and believes in his Peer;
He declares there's no fight
In the Rads., who delight
But in prating and rob the poor man of his beer.
So he votes for the Swells,
Not the swabbers of ink,
Though when spinning his “spells”
He's a devil to drink.
But he's always well drest and respectably shod,
And as sober as you till the evening is Tod.
And swears he's a Tory
And sticks to his Church and believes in his Peer;
He declares there's no fight
In the Rads., who delight
But in prating and rob the poor man of his beer.
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Not the swabbers of ink,
Though when spinning his “spells”
He's a devil to drink.
But he's always well drest and respectably shod,
And as sober as you till the evening is Tod.
He is widely respected,
And might be elected
A “Member” he says, but can't yet lend a hand;
Though if troubles should come,
And he prophesies some,
Then perhaps he might make it convenient to “stand.”
And I'd rather have him
With one notion held tight,
Than the babblers who swim
In confusion and night;
For he'd never let us bear the foreigner's rod,
And a patriot heart with his failings has Tod.
And might be elected
A “Member” he says, but can't yet lend a hand;
Though if troubles should come,
And he prophesies some,
Then perhaps he might make it convenient to “stand.”
And I'd rather have him
With one notion held tight,
Than the babblers who swim
In confusion and night;
For he'd never let us bear the foreigner's rod,
And a patriot heart with his failings has Tod.
| Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold | |