Part 21

JOHN lay on the ground, and he roared like mad (For JOHNNY was sore perplexed), And he kicked very hard at a very small lad (Which I often do, when vexed).

For JOHN was on duty next day with the Force, To punish all Epsom crimes; Young people will cross when they’re clearing the course (I do it myself, sometimes).

* * * * * * * *

The Derby Day sun glittered gaily on cads, On maidens with gamboge hair, On sharpers and pickpockets, swindlers and pads, (For I, with my harp, was there).

And JIMMY went down with his JANE that day, And JOHN by the collar or nape Seized everybody who came in his way (And I had a narrow escape).

He noticed his EMILY JANE with JIM, And envied the well-made elf; And people remarked that he muttered “Oh, dim!” (I often say “dim!” myself).

JOHN dogged them all day, without asking their leaves; For his sergeant he told, aside, That JIMMY and JANE were notorious thieves (And I think he was justified).

But JAMES wouldn’t dream of abstracting a fork, And JENNY would blush with shame At stealing so much as a bottle or cork (A bottle I think fair game).

But, ah! there’s another more serious crime! They wickedly strayed upon The course, at a critical moment of time (I pointed them out to JOHN).

The constable fell on the pair in a crack— And then, with a demon smile, Let JENNY cross over, but sent JIMMY back (I played on my harp the while).

Stern JOHNNY their agony loud derides With a very triumphant sneer— They weep and they wail from the opposite sides (And I shed a silent tear).

And JENNY is crying away like mad, And JIMMY is swearing hard; And JOHNNY is looking uncommonly glad (And I am a doggerel bard).

But JIMMY he ventured on crossing again The scenes of our Isthmian Games— JOHN caught him, and collared him, giving him pain (I felt very much for JAMES).

JOHN led him away with a victor’s hand, And JIMMY was shortly seen In the station-house under the grand Grand Stand (As many a time I’ve been).

And JIMMY, bad boy, was imprisoned for life, Though EMILY pleaded hard; And JOHNNY had EMILY JANE to wife (And I am a doggerel bard).

THE PERILS OF INVISIBILITY

OLD PETER led a wretched life— Old PETER had a furious wife; Old PETER too was truly stout, He measured several yards about.

The little fairy PICKLEKIN One summer afternoon looked in, And said, “Old PETER, how de do? Can I do anything for you?

“I have three gifts—the first will give Unbounded riches while you live; The second health where’er you be; The third, invisibility.”

“O little fairy PICKLEKIN,” Old PETER answered with a grin, “To hesitate would be absurd,— Undoubtedly I choose the third.”

“’Tis yours,” the fairy said; “be quite Invisible to mortal sight Whene’er you please. Remember me Most kindly, pray, to MRS. P.”

Old MRS. PETER overheard Wee PICKLEKIN’S concluding word, And, jealous of her girlhood’s choice, Said, “That was some young woman’s voice!”

Old PETER let her scold and swear— Old PETER, bless him, didn’t care. “My dear, your rage is wasted quite— Observe, I disappear from sight!”

A well-bred fairy (so I’ve heard) Is always faithful to her word: Old PETER vanished like a shot, Put then—his suit of clothes did not!

For when conferred the fairy slim Invisibility on him, She popped away on fairy wings, Without referring to his “things.”

So there remained a coat of blue, A vest and double eyeglass too, His tail, his shoes, his socks as well, His pair of—no, I must not tell.

Old MRS. PETER soon began To see the failure of his plan, And then resolved (I quote the Bard) To “hoist him with his own petard.”

Old PETER woke next day and dressed, Put on his coat, and shoes, and vest, His shirt and stock; but could not find His only pair of—never mind!