The main chance minding still at home, On bus’ness quite intent; He made amends, there is no doubt, For what that day was spent. Their daughters, rising in their teens, Were innocent and gay, And as young girls, they often begg’d To have a holiday. Good Mistress Gilpin had a heart Her pretty girls to please; But how to win John Gilpin to’t Was not a task of ease. “Howe’er,” said she, “leave that to me, It never will cause strife; And he will sure comply once more, To please his loving wife.” She mark’d the time, in cheerful mood John Gilpin for to see; Then unto him thus did she speak, One evening o’er their tea. “My dear you must a favour grant, Your tenderness to prove.” Said Gilpin, “What is your desire? I can’t deny my love.” “Why, there’s my sweetest life,” said she, And strok’d his smirking face; At which he kissed his dearest dear, And smiled with kindly grace. “You know,” said she, “since that sad day, Which we could not foresee, That we have never thought upon Another holiday. “Ten circling years have made their round, And time comes stealing on; Next Tuesday is our wedding day, Then pray let us have one.” John Gilpin hum’d and ha’d awhile, Then cried, “It shall be so, Yet hope, you do not mean, my dear, To Edmonton to go. “That cursed jaunt I can’t forget Which brought me such disgrace.” “No, no, my dear,” she quick reply’d, “I mean a nearer place. “Amusements round the town are found, Delighting unto all; Therefore with me, if you’ll agree, We’ll go to sweet Vaux-hall. “A sculler, sure, will take us all, The purchase can’t be great; And then along the silver Thames, How we shall ride in state.” “Thy will be done,” John Gilpin cry’d, “I like thy thought in this; The evening is not all the day, Much business we can’t miss.” Then Mistress Gilpin said to John, “That we may all be gay Your very suit you shall have on, Made for your wedding day. “Your lac’d cravat, and beaver hat, Your cane, with head of gold, With roll’d up hose, and then you’ll be Most charming to behold.” At length the happy time arrived, John Gilpin, neatly dressed, Look’d like a citizen, indeed, Array’d in all his best. * * * * * ―――― _Davy Jones_, a Gilpinic Tale, by Barnard de Burgh, 1823. This little work has some amusing illustrations, but a very misleading title, for it is not a parody of “John Gilpin.” “John Gilpin” translated into Latin, was published some years ago by Mr. J. Vincent of Oxford. The pamphlet was entitled “Johannis Gilpiniiter, Latine Redditum,” and may probably still be obtained in Oxford. ――――