This is taken from _Odd Echoes from Oxford_, 1872, and is a parody on _The Beggar Maid and King Cophetua_, which was also in the 1842 collection. In a little volume by C. S. Calverley entitled "Fly Leaves," (George Bell & Sons, 1878) there are several clever parodies, and one, entitled _Wanderers_, is an especially happy imitation of the style of Tennyson's Brook:-- THE TINKER. I turn'd me to the tinker, who Was loafing down a by-way: I asked him where he lived--a stare Was all I got in answer, As on he trudged: I rightly judged The stare said, "Where I can, sir."? I asked him if he'd take a whiff Of 'bacca; he acceded; He grew communicative too, (A pipe was all he needed,) Till of the tinker's life, I think, I knew as much as he did. "I loiter down by thorp and town; For any job I'm willing; Take here and there a dusty brown, And here and there a shilling. "I deal in every ware in turn, I've rings for buddin' Sally That sparkle like those eyes of her'n; I've liquor for the valet. "I steal from th' parson's strawberry plots, I hide by th' squire's covers; I teach the sweet young housemaids what's The art of trapping lovers. "The things I've done 'neath moon and stars Have got me into messes: I've seen the sky through prison bars, I've torn up prison dresses. "I've sat, I've sighed, I've gloom'd, I've glanced With envy at the swallows That through the windows slid, and danced (Quite happy) round the gallows; "But out again I come, and show My face nor care a stiver, For trades are brisk and trades are slow, But mine goes on for ever." * * * * * Another parody of the same original, and almost as clever, is contained in a little anonymous Pamphlet, entitled _Idyls of the Rink_, published by Judd & Co., in 1876, it is called THE RINKER _By Alfred Tennyson._ I start from home in happy mood, Arrayed in dress so pretty, And sparkle out among the men, Who come up from the City. But first I linger by the brink, And calmly reconnoitre, For when I'm fairly on the rink, I never care to loiter. Then "follow me," I loudly call, At skating I'm so clever, For men may come, and men may fall, But I rink on for ever. I chatter with my little band Of friends so gay and hearty, And sometimes we go hand in hand, And sometimes in a party. I slip, I slide, I glance, I glide, There is no one can teach me, I give them all a berth full wide, And not a soul can reach me. I chatter, chatter, to them all, At skating I'm so clever, For men may come, and men may fall, But I rink on for ever. I wind about, and in and out, With here a figure tracing. And here and there I dance about, And here I go a-racing.