So saying, he tore a shoulder of mutton out of Waxy's hands, and,
carrying it in his arms as a woman carries a child, joined the
procession with sudden, zigzag steps. When the party reached the
cottage, it was met with a howl of welcome from the crowd, which now
reached to the opposite footpath. Barney Ryan, seized with an
inspiration, broke suddenly into "Mother Shipton". The chorus was
taken up with a roar of discordant voices:
Good old Mother has come again to prophesy
Things that will surely occur as the days go rolling by,
So listen to me if you wish to know,
For I'll let you into the know, you know,
And tell you some wonders before I go
To home, sweet home.
Mrs Yabsley, delighted by the compliment, stood on her veranda, smiling
and radiant, like Royalty receiving homage from its subjects. This set
the ball rolling. Song followed song, the pick of the music-halls.
Jonah gave a selection on the mouth-organ. Then Barney, who was
growing hoarse, winked maliciously at Jonah and Ada, and struck into
his masterpiece, "Trinity Church". It was the success of the evening.
She told me her age was five-and-twenty,
Cash in the bank of course she'd plenty,
I like a lamb believed it all,
I was an M.U.G.;
At Trinity Church I met my doom,
Now we live in a top back room,
Up to my eyes in debt for 'renty',
That's what she's done for me.
The chorus rang out with a deafening roar. The guests, tickled by the
words that fell so pat, twisted and squirmed with laughter, digging
their fingers into their neighbours' ribs to emphasize the details.
But Barney, in trying to imitate a stumpy man with an umbrella, as the
song demanded, tripped and lay where he fell, too fatigued to rise.
Then, saddened by the beer they had drunk, they grew sentimental. Mrs
Swadling, who never let herself be asked twice, for fear of being
thought shy, led off with a pathetic ballad. She sang in a thin,
quavering voice, staring into, vacancy with glassy eyes like the blind
beggars at the corner, dragging the tune till it became a wail--a dirge
for lost souls.
Some are gone from us for ever,
Longer here they might not stay;
They have reached a fairer region,
Far away-ee, far away--
They have reached a fairer region,
Far away-ee, far away.
The guests listened with a beery sadness in their eyes, suddenly
reminded that you were here to-day and gone to-morrow, pierced with a
sense of the tragic brevity of Life, their hearts oppressed with a
pleasant anguish at the pity and wonder of this insubstantial world.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account