So General John as Private James Fell in, parade upon; And Private James, by change of names, Was Major-General John. SIR GUY THE CRUSADER. Sir Guy was a doughty crusader, A muscular knight, Ever ready to fight, A very determined invader. And Dickey de Lion's delight. Lenore was a Saracen maiden, Brunette, statuesque, The reverse of grotesque; Her pa was a bagman at Aden, Her mother she played in burlesque. A _coryphee_ pretty and loyal. In amber and red, The ballet she led; Her mother performed at the Royal, Lenore at the Saracen's Head. Of face and of figure majestic, She dazzled the cits-- Ecstaticized pits;-- Her troubles were only domestic, But drove her half out of her wits. Her father incessantly lashed her, On water and bread She was grudgingly fed; Whenever her father he thrashed her Her mother sat down on her head. Guy saw her, and loved her, with reason, For beauty so bright, Set him mad with delight; He purchased a stall for the season And sat in it every night. His views were exceedingly proper; He wanted to wed, So he called at her shed And saw her progenitor whop her-- Her mother sit down on her head. "So pretty," said he, "and so trusting! You brute of a dad, You unprincipled cad, Your conduct is really disgusting. Come, come, now, admit it's too bad! "You're a turbaned old Turk, and malignant; Your daughter Lenore I intensely adore And I cannot help feeling indignant, A fact that I hinted before. "To see a fond father employing A deuce of a knout For to bang her about. To a sensitive lover's annoying." Said the bagman, "Crusader, get out!" Says Guy, "Shall a warrior laden With a big spiky knob. Stand idly and sob. While a beautiful Saracen maiden Is whipped by a Saracen snob? "To London I'll go from my charmer." Which he did, with his loot (Seven hats and a flute), And was nabbed for his Sydenham armor, At Mr. Ben-Samuel's suit. Sir Guy he was lodged in the Compter, Her pa, in a rage, Died (don't know his age), His daughter, she married the prompter, Grew bulky and quitted the stage. [Illustration] KING BORRIA BUNGALEE BOO. King Borria Bungalee Boo Was a man-eating African swell; His sigh was a hullaballoo, His whisper a horrible yell-- A horrible, horrible yell! Four subjects, and all of them male, To Borria doubled the knee, They were once on a far larger scale, But he'd eaten the balance, you see ("Scale" and "balance" is punning, you see.) There was haughty Pish-Tush-Pooh-Bah, There was lumbering Doodle-Dum-Deh, Despairing Alack-a-Dey-Ah, And good little Tootle-Tum-Teh-- Exemplary Tootle-Tum-Teh.