Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. V

Parodies

Never I ween did member
    In any former case,
  In solitary grandeur walk
    Back to his ’customed place.
  With a mighty cheer they greet him,
    As he marches on alone,
  And the tellers say the members be
    Four hundred odd to one.

  When the “ancient Tom” is opened,
    And the farthing dip is lit:
  When the elders whack the youngers,
    And the kid howls when he’s hit:
  When old and young together
    Around the quartern close:
  When the girls are cracking cobnuts
    And the lads are mixing “goes:”

  When the goodwife rubs her elbow,
    After contact with the broom:
  When the goodman’s “highlows” merrily
    Are flying round the room!
  Amid these gay distractions,
    Still doth the story run,
  How Qucealy lost his motion by
    Four hundred odd to one.

_The Figaro_ (London). July 7. 1875.
  
Dr. E. V. Kenealy, counsel for the Tichborne Claimant in the great
trial, was afterwards elected M.P. for Stoke.

                                ――――

  THE RETURN-MATCH BETWEEN DRYBURGH AND SLUDGEBOROUGH,

  Sir V. O. Verandah of Sludgebro’
    On his Tate racket swore
  That the marshy town he dwelt in,
    Should know defeat no more:
  On his Tate racket swore it,
    And named a trysting day,
  And bade his messengers go forth,
  To Dryburgh in the far off North,
    And challenge it to play.

  On bicycles to the far off North
    The messengers ride fast,
  And tower and town and cottage
    And hill and vale are passed.
  And continuous rotation
    Of the never-wearied wheel
  Brings them to where, near Dryburgh’s hill,
  Flows Pepperhanger’s rapid rill;
  To where the whilom victors dwell,
  And play the game they love so well,
    Foes worthy of their steel.

      *     *     *     *     *

  From the towers of stately Ballchester
    Drives in young Tennyslorne,
  From Pleycyngbury comes the heir,
    And the young de Vorley’s horn
  Is heard behind his spanking four
  As he drives to the Pavilion door,
  And nods to each a friendly greeting
  Assembled for the special meeting,
    Just called on Dryburgh’s lawn.
  They held a council standing
    By the Pavilion gate;
  There wasn’t much necessity
    For musing or debate.
  And they read the Sludgebro’ challenge
    “That another match they’d play;”
  And they all agreed on the Sludgeborough mead
    To meet on the trysting day.

      *     *     *     *     *

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Opening the text

General

Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. V

Parodies

Never I ween did member
    In any former case,
  In solitary grandeur walk
    Back to his ’customed place.
  With a mighty cheer they greet him,
    As he marches on alone,
  And the tellers say the members be
    Four hundred odd to one.

  When the “ancient Tom” is opened,
    And the farthing dip is lit:
  When the elders whack the youngers,
    And the kid howls when he’s hit:
  When old and young together
    Around the quartern close:
  When the girls are cracking cobnuts
    And the lads are mixing “goes:”

  When the goodwife rubs her elbow,
    After contact with the broom:
  When the goodman’s “highlows” merrily
    Are flying round the room!
  Amid these gay distractions,
    Still doth the story run,
  How Qucealy lost his motion by
    Four hundred odd to one.

_The Figaro_ (London). July 7. 1875.
  
Dr. E. V. Kenealy, counsel for the Tichborne Claimant in the great
trial, was afterwards elected M.P. for Stoke.

                                ――――

  THE RETURN-MATCH BETWEEN DRYBURGH AND SLUDGEBOROUGH,

  Sir V. O. Verandah of Sludgebro’
    On his Tate racket swore
  That the marshy town he dwelt in,
    Should know defeat no more:
  On his Tate racket swore it,
    And named a trysting day,
  And bade his messengers go forth,
  To Dryburgh in the far off North,
    And challenge it to play.

  On bicycles to the far off North
    The messengers ride fast,
  And tower and town and cottage
    And hill and vale are passed.
  And continuous rotation
    Of the never-wearied wheel
  Brings them to where, near Dryburgh’s hill,
  Flows Pepperhanger’s rapid rill;
  To where the whilom victors dwell,
  And play the game they love so well,
    Foes worthy of their steel.

      *     *     *     *     *

  From the towers of stately Ballchester
    Drives in young Tennyslorne,
  From Pleycyngbury comes the heir,
    And the young de Vorley’s horn
  Is heard behind his spanking four
  As he drives to the Pavilion door,
  And nods to each a friendly greeting
  Assembled for the special meeting,
    Just called on Dryburgh’s lawn.
  They held a council standing
    By the Pavilion gate;
  There wasn’t much necessity
    For musing or debate.
  And they read the Sludgebro’ challenge
    “That another match they’d play;”
  And they all agreed on the Sludgeborough mead
    To meet on the trysting day.

      *     *     *     *     *

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. V

Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. V

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