PRIDE'S PUNISHMENT.

173

PRIDE'S PUNISHMENT.

(A Tale of Warning to Little Boys, rather than of Example to Little Girls.)

I.

When little Johnny doffed his kilts

And put short trousers on,

He felt as big as if on stilts,

And bade them call him John.

II.

He scorned to take his sister Sue
Out with him anywhere.

"Go with a little girl like you?

Why, how the folks would stare!"

III.

He whistled to his faithful Boze,

And started off alone.

He thought all eyes were on his clo'es-
Ah! could he but have known.

IV.

For sister Sue resolved his pride
Should perish in the bud—
Around the corner first she'd hide,
Then push him in the mud.

V.

As she resolved, she did him dirt,
As Johnny found, alack!
Bedraggled, wet, his feelings hurt,
He sadly hied him back.

VI.

And now he mopes within the yard,
Nor struts about with pride.

His name is Kilts-thus Fate is hard-
Until his pants are dried.

UNKNOWN.

THE JACKDAW OF RHEIMS.

The Jackdaw sat on the Cardinal's chair!
Bishop, and Abbot, and Prior were there;
Many a monk, and many a friar,

Many a knight and many a squire,

With a great many more of lesser degree,—
In sooth, a goodly company;

And they served the Lord Primate on bended knee.

THE JACKDAW OF RHEIMS.

Never, I ween,

Was a prouder seen,

Read of in books, or dreamt of in dreams,
Than the Cardinal Lord Bishop of Rheims !

175

In and out

Through the motley rout,

That little Jackdaw kept hopping about;
Here and there,

Like a dog in a fair,
Over comfits and cakes,

And dishes and plates,

Cowl and cope, and rochet and pall,
Mitre and crosier, he hopped upon all!
With saucy air,

He perched on the chair

Where, in state, the great Lord Cardinal sat
In the great Lord Cardinal's great red hat;
And he perched in the face
Of his Lordship's grace,

With a satisfied look, as if he would say,
"We two are the greatest folks here to-day!"
And the priests with awe,

As such freaks they saw,

Said, "The devil must be in that little Jackdaw!"

The feast was over, the board was cleared,
The flawns and the custards had all disappeared,

And six little singing-boys,—dear little souls !—
In nice clean faces, and nice white stoles,
Came, in order due,

Two by two,

Marching the great refectory through!

A nice little boy held a golden ewer,
Embossed and filled with water, as pure

As any that flows between Rheims and Namur,
Which a nice little boy stood ready to catch
In a fine golden hand-basin made to match.
Two nice little boys, rather more grown,
Carried lavender-water and eau-de-Cologne;
And a nice little boy had a nice cake of soap,
Worthy of washing the hands of the Pope.
One little boy more

A napkin bore,

Of the best white diaper, fringed with pink,
And a Cardinal's hat marked in "permanent ink."

The great Lord Cardinal turns at the sight
Of these nice little boys dressed all in white:
From his finger he draws

His costly turquoise,

And, not thinking at all about little Jackdaws, Deposits it straight

By the side of his plate,

While the nice little boys on his Eminence wait; Till, when nobody's dreaming of any such thing, That little Jackdaw hops off with the ring!

THE JACKDAW OF RHEIMS. 177

There's a cry and a shout,

And a deuce of a rout,

And nobody seems to know what they're about, But the monks have their pockets all turned inside out;

The friars are kneeling,

And hunting and feeling

The carpet, the floor, and the walls, and the ceiling.

The Cardinal drew

Off each plum-colored shoe,

And left his red stockings exposed to the view; He peeps and he feels,

In the toes and the heels;

They turn up the dishes,-they turn up the

plates,

They take up the poker and poke out the grates,
They turn up the rugs,

They examine the mugs;—
But no-no such thing:

They can't find The Ring!

And the Abbot declared that "when nobody twigged it,

Some rascal or other had popped in and prigged it."

The Cardinal rose with a dignified look,

He called for his candle, his bell, and his book! In holy anger and pious grief,

He solemnly cursed that rascally thief!