But JIMMY he ventured on crossing again The scenes of our Isthmian Games— JOHN caught him, and collared him, giving him pain (I felt very much for JAMES). JOHN led him away with a victor’s hand, And JIMMY was shortly seen In the station-house under the grand Grand Stand (As many a time _I’ve_ been). And JIMMY, bad boy, was imprisoned for life, Though EMILY pleaded hard; And JOHNNY had EMILY JANE to wife (And I am a doggerel bard). THE PERILS OF INVISIBILITY OLD PETER led a wretched life— Old PETER had a furious wife; Old PETER too was truly stout, He measured several yards about. The little fairy PICKLEKIN One summer afternoon looked in, And said, “Old PETER, how de do? Can I do anything for you? “I have three gifts—the first will give Unbounded riches while you live; The second health where’er you be; The third, invisibility.” “O little fairy PICKLEKIN,” Old PETER answered with a grin, “To hesitate would be absurd,— Undoubtedly I choose the third.” “’Tis yours,” the fairy said; “be quite Invisible to mortal sight Whene’er you please. Remember me Most kindly, pray, to MRS. P.” Old MRS. PETER overheard Wee PICKLEKIN’S concluding word, And, jealous of her girlhood’s choice, Said, “That was some young woman’s voice!” Old PETER let her scold and swear— Old PETER, bless him, didn’t care. “My dear, your rage is wasted quite— Observe, I disappear from sight!” A well-bred fairy (so I’ve heard) Is always faithful to her word: Old PETER vanished like a shot, Put then—_his suit of clothes did not_! For when conferred the fairy slim Invisibility on _him_, She popped away on fairy wings, Without referring to his “things.” So there remained a coat of blue, A vest and double eyeglass too, His tail, his shoes, his socks as well, His pair of—no, I must not tell. Old MRS. PETER soon began To see the failure of his plan, And then resolved (I quote the Bard) To “hoist him with his own petard.” Old PETER woke next day and dressed, Put on his coat, and shoes, and vest, His shirt and stock; _but could not find_ _His only pair of_—never mind! Old PETER was a decent man, And though he twigged his lady’s plan, Yet, hearing her approaching, he Resumed invisibility. “Dear MRS. P., my only joy,” Exclaimed the horrified old boy, “Now, give them up, I beg of you— You know what I’m referring to!” But no; the cross old lady swore She’d keep his—what I said before— To make him publicly absurd; And MRS. PETER kept her word. The poor old fellow had no rest; His coat, his stick, his shoes, his vest, Were all that now met mortal eye— The rest, invisibility! “Now, madam, give them up, I beg— I’ve had rheumatics in my leg; Besides, until you do, it’s plain I cannot come to sight again!