When CAPTAIN CLEGGS returned aboard, His blithesome crew convulsive roar'd, To see him altered so. The Admiralty did insist That he upon the Half-pay list Immediately should go. In vain declared the poor old salt, "It's my misfortune--not my fault," With tear and trembling lip-- In vain poor CAPEL begged and begged-- "A man must be completely legged Who rules a British ship." [Illustration] So spake the stern First Lord aloud-- He was a wag, though very proud, And much rejoiced to say, "You're only half a captain now-- And so, my worthy friend, I vow You'll only get half-pay." [Illustration] SAID I TO MYSELF, SAID I When I went to the Bar as a very young man (Said I to myself--said I), I'll work on a new and original plan (Said I to myself--said I), I'll never assume that a rogue or a thief Is a gentleman worthy implicit belief, Because his attorney has sent me a brief (Said I to myself--said I!) I'll never throw dust in a juryman's eyes (Said I to myself--said I), Or hoodwink a judge who is not over-wise (Said I to myself--said I), Or assume that the witnesses summoned in force In Exchequer, Queen's Bench, Common Pleas, or Divorce, Have perjured themselves as a matter of course (Said I to myself--said I!) Ere I go into court I will read my brief through (Said I to myself--said I), And I'll never take work I'm unable to do (Said I to myself--said I). My learned profession I'll never disgrace By taking a fee with a grin on my face, When I haven't been there to attend to the case (Said I to myself--said I!) In other professions in which men engage (Said I to myself--said I), The Army, the Navy, the Church, and the Stage (Said I to myself--said I), Professional licence, if carried too far, Your chance of promotion will certainly mar-- And I fancy the rule might apply to the Bar (Said I to myself--said I!) [Illustration] [Illustration] ANNIE PROTHEROE A LEGEND OF STRATFORD-LE-BOW Oh! listen to the tale of little ANNIE PROTHEROE, She kept a small post-office in the neighbourhood of BOW, She loved a skilled mechanic, who was famous in his day-- A gentle executioner whose name was GILBERT CLAY. I think I hear you say, "A dreadful subject for your rhymes!" O reader, do not shrink--he didn't live in modern times! He lived so long ago (the sketch will show it at a glance) That all his actions glitter with the limelight of Romance. In busy times he laboured at his gentle craft all day-- "No doubt you mean his Cal-craft" you amusingly will say-- But, no--he didn't operate with common bits of string, He was a Public Headsman, which is quite another thing.