University of Virginia Library

LITTLE O'P.—AN AFRICAN FACT

It was July the First, and the great hill of Howth
Was bearing by compass sow-west and by south,
And the name of the ship was the Peggy of Cork,
Well freighted with bacon and butter and pork.
Now, this ship had a captain, Macmorris by name,
And little O'Patrick was mate of the same;
For Bristol they sail'd, but by nautical scope,
They contrived to be lost by the Cape of Good Hope.
Of all the Cork boys that the vessel could boast,
Only little O'P. made a swim to the coast;
And when he revived from a sort of a trance,
He saw a big Black with a very long lance.
Says the savage, says he, in some Hottentot tongue,
‘Bash Kuku my gimmel bo gumborry bung!’
Then blew a long shell, to the fright of our elf,
And down came a hundred as black as himself.
They brought with them guattul, and pieces of klam,
The first was like beef, and the second like lamb;
‘Don't I know,’ said O'P., what the wretches are at?
‘They're intending to eat me as soon as I'm fat!’
In terror of coming to pan, spit, or pot,
His rations of jarbul he suffer'd to rot;
He would not touch purry or doolberry-lik,
But kept himself growing as thin as a stick.
Though broiling the climate, and parching with drouth,
He would not let chobbery enter his mouth,
But kick'd down the krug shell, tho' sweeten'd with natt,—
‘I an't to be pison'd the likes of a rat!’
At last the great Joddry got quite in a rage,
And cried, ‘O mi pitticum dambally nage!
The chobbery take, and put back on the shelf,
Or give me the krug shell, I'll drink it myself!
The doolberry-lik is the best to be had,
And the purry (I chew'd it myself) is not bad;
The jarbul is fresh, for I saw it cut out,
And the Bok that it came from is grazing about.
My jumbo! but run off to Billery Nang,
And tell her to put on her jigger and tang,
And go with the Bloss to the man of the sea,
And say that she comes as his Wulwul from me.’
Now Billery Nang was as Black as a sweep,
With thick curly hair like the wool of a sheep,
And the moment he spied her, said little O'P.,
‘Sure the Divil is dead, and his Widow's at me!
But when, in the blaze of her Hottentot charms,
She came to accept him for life in her arms,
And stretch'd her thick lips to a broad grin of love,
A Raven preparing to bill like a Dove,
With a soul full of dread he declined the grim bliss,
Stopped her Molyneux arms, and eluded her kiss;
At last, fairly foiled, she gave up the attack,
And Joddry began to look blacker than black;
‘By Mumbo! by Jumbo!—why here is a man,
That won't be made happy do all that I can;
He will not be married, lodged, clad, and well fed,
Let the Rham take his shangwang and chop off his head!’