Oh, would not that be a merry life, Apart from care and apart from strife, With the Laureate's wine, and the Laureate's pay, And no deductions at quarter-day! Oh, that would be the post for me! With plenty to get and nothing to do, But to deck a pet poodle with ribbons of blue, And whistle a tune to the Queen's cockatoo, And scribble of verses remarkably few, And at evening empty a bottle or two! Quaffingly, quaffingly! 'Tis I would be The Laureate bold, With my butt of sherry To keep me merry, And nothing to do but to pocket my gold! THE MERMAID. (_By a disgusted Tar with a vague recollection of_ TENNYSON.) I. Who would be A Mermaid dank. Bobbing about In a sort of tank, For the crowd to see At a shilling a head, In doubt if it be Alive or dead? II. _I_ would not be a Mermaid dank, Flopping about in a Westminster tank, Like a shabby sham at a country fair, And by far the ugliest monster there; Exposed to the Cockneys' vulgar chaff, And the learned gush of the _Daily T._, To be called a porpoise or ocean-calf, Or a seven-foot slug from the deep blue sea. _Me_ a Manatee? Dickens a bit! The Mermaid of fiction was something fine, A fish-tailed Siren given to sit On a handy rock, 'midst the breezy brine, Each golden curl with a comb of pearl Arranging in many a taking twirl, Like a free-and-easy nautical girl. Taking a bath in a primitive style Without any bother of dress or machine, And likely the wandering tar to beguile, If that Mariner chanced to be anyways green. But your Modern Mermaid! good gracious me! Who'd be inwiggled away from his tracks Or driven to bung up his ears with wax By the wiles and smiles of a Manatee? A sort of shapeless squab sea-lubber, A blundering bulk of leather and blubber, Like an overgrown bottle of India-rubber; The clumsiest, wobblingest, queerest of creatures, With nothing but small gimlet-holes for features. _This_ a Mermaid? Oh, don't tell me! It's simply some sly scientifical spree, And I mean to say it's a thundering shame To bestow the Siren's respectable name, Which savours of all that is rare and romantic, On such a preposterous monster as this is, Whose hideous phiz and ridiculous antic, Would simply have frightened the mates of Ulysses. Fancy the horror of blubberous kisses From a mouth that's like a tarpaulin flap! That Merman must be a most amorous chap Who would sue her and woo her under the sea. As TENNYSON sings--a nice treat it would be Were a Mermaid merely a Manatee! From _Punch_, July 20th, 1878, in reference to the so-called _Mermaid_ then being exhibited at the Westminster Aquarium. * * * * *