Court her, dearest Master, you court her without fear,
And you will win the lady in the space of half a year;
And she will be your bride, your joy and your dear,
And she will take a walk with you anywhere.
Encouraged by the smiling school, Jonathan Witchcott took up the song,
turning yearningly to Dru who now smiled coyly, head to one side, while
he entreated:
Oh, Madam, I will give to you a little greyhound,
And every hair upon its back shall cost a thousand pound,
If you will be my bride, my joy and my dear,
And you will take a walk with me anywhere.
Scarcely had the last note left his lips when Drusilla, now that all
eyes were turned upon her, sang coquettishly:
Oh, Sir, I won't accept of you a little greyhound,
Though every hair upon its back did cost a thousand pound,
I will not be your bride, your joy nor your dear,
And neither will I walk with you anywhere.
With added fervor Jonathan offered more:
Oh, Madam, I will give you a fine ivory comb,
To fasten up your silver locks when I am not at home.
That too Dru spurned, but all the same she was watching
nervously--indeed Dru was watching anxiously--Tizzie Scaggs, lest she
take up Jonathan's offer, which is another girl's right in the play-game
song.
Quickly Jonathan Witchcott, knowing all this, sang pleadingly:
Oh, Madam, I will give to you the keys of my heart,
To lock it up forever that we never more may part,
If you will be my bride, my joy and my dear.
Whereupon Drusilla, her eyes sparkling, her rosy lips parted temptingly,
sang:
Oh, Sir, I will accept of you the keys of your heart;
I'll lock it up forever and we never more will part,
And I will be your bride, your joy and your dear,
And I will take a walk with you anywhere.
When her last note ended Dru turned demurely toward Jonathan, whereupon
that happy swain leaped to his feet and, extending a hand toward the
singing master, sang:
My man, Philomel Whiffet, here's fifty pounds, for thee,
I'd never have won this lady fair if it hadn't been for thee.
With that the whole singing school cheered and laughed.
Drusilla Osborn was so excited she almost twisted her kerchief into
shreds, for she and all the rest knew that by consenting to sing the
play-game song through she and Jonathan had thereby plighted their
troth. Either could have dropped out on the very second verse if they
had been so inclined. But there, they had sung it through to the end. If
she hadn't Tizzie Scaggs would have leaped at the chance. So now, the
singing master arose and was first to wish them well.
"A life of joy to the Witchcotts!" He bowed profoundly.
Even Mathias Oneby wished his rival happiness. The girls tittered. Older
folks nodded approval.
Then away they all went into the starlit night, trooping homeward
through the snow, Jonathan and Drusilla leading the way.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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