Part 4

“The common sin of babyhood—objecting to be drest— If you leave it to accumulate at compound interest, For anything you know, may represent, if you’re alive, A burglary or murder at the age of thirty-five.

“Still, I wouldn’t take advantage of this fact, but be content With some pardonable folly—it’s a mere experiment. The greater the temptation to go wrong, the less the sin; So with something that’s particularly tempting I’ll begin.

“I would not steal a penny, for my income’s very fair— I do not want a penny—I have pennies and to spare— And if I stole a penny from a money-bag or till, The sin would be enormous—the temptation being nil.

“But if I broke asunder all such pettifogging bounds, And forged a party’s Will for (say) Five Hundred Thousand Pounds, With such an irresistible temptation to a haul, Of course the sin must be infinitesimally small.

“There’s WILSON who is dying—he has wealth from Stock and rent— If I divert his riches from their natural descent, I’m placed in a position to indulge each little whim.” So he diverted them—and they, in turn, diverted him.

Unfortunately, though, by some unpardonable flaw, Temptation isn’t recognized by Britain’s Common Law; Men found him out by some peculiarity of touch, And WILLIAM got a “lifer,” which annoyed him very much.

For, ah! he never reconciled himself to life in gaol, He fretted and he pined, and grew dispirited and pale; He was numbered like a cabman, too, which told upon him so That his spirits, once so buoyant, grew uncomfortably low.

And sympathetic gaolers would remark, “It’s very true, He ain’t been brought up common, like the likes of me and you.” So they took him into hospital, and gave him mutton chops, And chocolate, and arrowroot, and buns, and malt and hops.

Kind Clergymen, besides, grew interested in his fate, Affected by the details of his pitiable state. They waited on the Secretary, somewhere in Whitehall, Who said he would receive them any day they liked to call.

“Consider, sir, the hardship of this interesting case: A prison life brings with it something very like disgrace; It’s telling on young WILLIAM, who’s reduced to skin and bone— Remember he’s a gentleman, with money of his own.

“He had an ample income, and of course he stands in need Of sherry with his dinner, and his customary weed; No delicacies now can pass his gentlemanly lips— He misses his sea-bathing and his continental trips.

“He says the other prisoners are commonplace and rude; He says he cannot relish uncongenial prison food. When quite a boy they taught him to distinguish Good from Bad, And other educational advantages he’s had.

“A burglar or garotter, or, indeed, a common thief Is very glad to batten on potatoes and on beef, Or anything, in short, that prison kitchens can afford,— A cut above the diet in a common workhouse ward.

“But beef and mutton-broth don’t seem to suit our WILLIAM’S whim, A boon to other prisoners—a punishment to him. It never was intended that the discipline of gaol Should dash a convict’s spirits, sir, or make him thin or pale.”

“Good Gracious Me!” that sympathetic Secretary cried, “Suppose in prison fetters MISTER WILLIAM should have died! Dear me, of course! Imprisonment for Life his sentence saith: I’m very glad you mentioned it—it might have been For Death!

“Release him with a ticket—he’ll be better then, no doubt, And tell him I apologize.” So MISTER WILLIAM’S out. I hope he will be careful in his manuscripts, I’m sure, And not begin experimentalizing any more.

PASHA BAILEY BEN

A PROUD Pasha was BAILEY BEN, His wives were three, his tails were ten; His form was dignified, but stout, Men called him “Little Roundabout.”

His Importance

Pale Pilgrims came from o’er the sea To wait on PASHA BAILEY B., All bearing presents in a crowd, For B. was poor as well as proud.

His Presents

They brought him onions strung on ropes, And cold boiled beef, and telescopes, And balls of string, and shrimps, and guns, And chops, and tacks, and hats, and buns.

More of them

They brought him white kid gloves, and pails, And candlesticks, and potted quails, And capstan-bars, and scales and weights, And ornaments for empty grates.

Why I mention these

My tale is not of these—oh no! I only mention them to show The divers gifts that divers men Brought o’er the sea to BAILEY BEN.

His Confidant

A confidant had BAILEY B., A gay Mongolian dog was he; I am not good at Turkish names, And so I call him SIMPLE JAMES.