One seized on a cork with a yelling “Ha! ha!” (Its bottle had ’prisoned a pint of Pacha)— Another a toothpick—another a tray— “Alas! it is useless!” said brave ALUM BEY. “To holloa and kick is a very bad plan: Get it over, my tulips, as soon as you can; You’d better lay hold of a good lump of lead, And cling to it tightly until you are dead. “Just raise your hands over your pretty heads—so— Right down to the bottom you’re certain to go. Ta! ta! I’m afraid we shall not meet again”— For the truly courageous are truly humane. Brave ALUM was picked up the very next day— A man-o’-war sighted him smoking away; With hunger and cold he was ready to drop, So they sent him below and they gave him a chop. O reader, or readress, whichever you be, You weep for the crew who have sunk in the sea? O reader, or readress, read farther, and dry The bright sympathetic ka-bob in your eye. That ship had a grapple with three iron spikes,— It’s lowered, and, ha! on a something it strikes! They haul it aboard with a British “heave-ho!” And what it has fished the drawing will show. There was WILSON, and PARKER, and TOMLINSON, too— (The first was the captain, the others the crew)— As lively and spry as a Malabar ape, Quite pleased and surprised at their happy escape. And ALUM, brave fellow, who stood in the fore, And never expected to look on them more, Was really delighted to see them again, For the truly courageous are truly humane. SIR BARNABY BAMPTON BOO THIS is SIR BARNABY BAMPTON BOO, Last of a noble race, BARNABY BAMPTON, coming to woo, All at a deuce of a pace. BARNABY BAMPTON BOO, Here is a health to you: Here is wishing you luck, you elderly buck— BARNABY BAMPTON BOO! The excellent women of Tuptonvee Knew SIR BARNABY BOO; One of them surely his bride would be, But dickens a soul knew who. Women of Tuptonvee, Here is a health to ye For a Baronet, dears, you would cut off your ears, Women of Tuptonvee! Here are old MR. and MRS. DE PLOW (PETER his Christian name), They kept seven oxen, a pig, and a cow— Farming it was their game. Worthy old PETER DE PLOW, Here is a health to thou: Your race isn’t run, though you’re seventy-one, Worthy old PETER DE PLOW! To excellent MR. and MRS. DE PLOW Came SIR BARNABY BOO, He asked for their daughter, and told ’em as how He was as rich as a Jew. BARNABY BAMPTON’S wealth, Here is your jolly good health: I’d never repine if you came to be mine, BARNABY BAMPTON’S wealth!