“Dear eyes!” said ADMIRAL PIP, “I see Three flourishing islands on our lee. And, bless me! most remarkable thing! On every island stands a king! “Come, lower the Admiral’s gig,” he cried, “And over the dancing waves I’ll glide; That low obeisance I may do To those three kings of Chickeraboo!” The Admiral pulled to the islands three; The kings saluted him gracious_lee_. The Admiral, pleased at his welcome warm, Unrolled a printed Alliance form. “Your Majesty, sign me this, I pray— I come in a friendly kind of way— I come, if you please, with the best intents, And QUEEN VICTORIA’S compliments.” The kings were pleased as they well could be; The most retiring of the three, In a “cellar-flap” to his joy gave vent With a banjo-bones accompaniment. The great REAR-ADMIRAL BAILEY PIP Embarked on board his jolly big ship, Blue Peter flew from his lofty fore, And off he sailed to his native shore. ADMIRAL PIP directly went To the Lord at the head of the Government, Who made him, by a stroke of a quill, BARON DE PIPPE, OF PIPPETONNEVILLE. The College of Heralds permission yield That he should quarter upon his shield Three islands, _vert_, on a field of blue, With the pregnant motto “Chickeraboo.” Ambassadors, yes, and attachés, too, Are going to sail for Chickeraboo. And, see, on the good ship’s crowded deck, A bishop, who’s going out there on spec. And let us all hope that blissful things May come of alliance with darky kings, And, may we never, whatever we do, Declare a war with Chickeraboo! JOE GOLIGHTLY OR, THE FIRST LORD’S DAUGHTER A tar, but poorly prized, Long, shambling, and unsightly, Thrashed, bullied, and despised, Was wretched JOE GOLIGHTLY. He bore a workhouse brand; No Pa or Ma had claimed him, The Beadle found him, and The Board of Guardians named him. P’r’aps some Princess’s son— A beggar p’r’aps his mother. _He_ rather thought the one, I rather think the other. He liked his ship at sea, He loved the salt sea-water, He worshipped junk, and he Adored the First Lord’s daughter. The First Lord’s daughter, proud, Snubbed Earls and Viscounts nightly; She sneered at Barts. aloud, And spurned poor Joe Golightly. Whene’er he sailed afar Upon a Channel cruise, he Unpacked his light guitar And sang this ballad (Boosey): Ballad The moon is on the sea, Willow! The wind blows towards the lee, Willow! But though I sigh and sob and cry, No Lady Jane for me, Willow! She says, “’Twere folly quite, Willow! For me to wed a wight, Willow! Whose lot is cast before the mast”; And possibly she’s right, Willow!