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THOMAS WINTERBOTTOM HANCE

N all the towns and cities fair

IN

On Merry England's broad expanse,
No swordsman ever could compare
With THOMAS WINTERBOTTOM HANCE.

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On whole half-sheep, with cunning trick,

His sabre sometimes he'd employ

No bar of lead, however thick,

Had terrors for the stalwart boy.

At Dover daily he'd prepare

To hew and slash, behind, before

Which aggravated MONSIEUR PIERRE,

Who watched him from the Calais shore.

It caused good PIERRE to swear and dance,
The sight annoyed

and vexed him so;

He was the

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He said so,

and he

ought to know.

donc, ce cochon

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Son sabre, son plomb, et ses gigots!
Comme cela m'ennuye, enfin, mon Dieu!

Il sait que les foulards de soie
Give no retaliating whack-

Les gigots morts n'ont pas de quoi —
Le plomb don't ever hit you back."

But every day the headstrong lad

Cut lead and mutton more and more; And every day, poor PIERRE, half mad, Shrieked loud defiance from his shore.

HANCE had a mother, poor and old,
A simple, harmless, village dame,
Who crowed and clapped as people told
Of WINTERBOTTOM's rising fame.

She said, "I'll be upon the spot
To see my TOMMY's sabre-play;'
And so she left her leafy cot,

And walked to Dover in a day.

PIERRE had a doting mother, who
Had heard of his defiant rage:
His ma was nearly ninety-two,
And rather dressy for her age.

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At HANCE's doings every morn,
With sheer delight his mother cried ;
And MONSIEUR PIERRE'S contemptuous scorn
Filled his mamma with proper pride.

But HANCE's powers began to fail

His constitution was not strong And PIERRE, who once was stout and hale, Grew thin from shouting all day long.

Their mothers saw them pale and wan,
Maternal anguish

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tore each breast,

And so they met to find a plan

To set their offsprings'

minds at rest.

Said MRS. HANCE, "Of course I shrinks
From bloodshed, ma'am, as you're aware,
But still they'd better meet, I thinks."
"Assurément!" said MADAME PIERRE.

A sunny spot in sunny France

Was hit upon for this affair;

The ground was picked by MRS. HANCE,
The stakes were pitched by MADAme Pierre.

you see

Said MRS. H., "Your work
Go in, my noble boy, and win."

"En garde, mon fils!"
66 Allons!" "Go

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said Madame P. on!" "En garde!"

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Loud sneered the doughty man of France, "Ho! ho! Ho! ho! Ha! ha! Ha! ha!" "The French for Pish!"" said THOMAS HANCE.

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Said PIERRE, L'Anglais, Monsieur, pour 'Bah.'"'

Said MRS. H., "Come, one! two! three!
We're sittin' here to see all fair;

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"C'est Magnifique !" said Madame P., "Mais, parbleu! ce n'est pas la guerre !"

66

Je scorn un foe si lache

que vous!"' Said PIERRE, the doughty son of France. "I fight not coward foe, like you

יי !

Said our undaunted ToммY HANCE.

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"The French for Pooh! our TOMMY cried. "L'Anglais pour Va,'" the Frenchman crowed.

And so with undiminished pride
Each went on his respective road.

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