Said he, "Upon this dainty cod How bravely I shall sup"-- When, whiter than the tablecloth, A GHOST came rising up! III. "O father dear, O mother dear, Dear Kate, and brother Jim-- You know when some one went to sea-- Don't cry--but I am him!" IV. "You hope some day with fond embrace To greet your absent Jack, But oh, I am come here to say I'm never coming back!" V. "From Alexandria we set sail, With corn, and oil, and figs, But steering 'too much Sow,' we struck Upon the Sow and Pigs!" VI. "The ship we pumped till we could see Old England from the tops; When down she went with all our hands, Right in the Channel's Chops." VII. "Just give a look in Norey's chart, The very place it tells; I think it says twelve fathom deep, Clay bottom, mixed with shells." VIII. "Well, there we are till 'hands aloft,' We have at last a call; The pug I had for brother Jim, Kate's parrot too, and all." IX. "But oh, my spirit cannot rest In Davy Joneses sod, Till I've appeared to you and said-- Don't sup on that 'ere Cod!" X. "You live on land, and little think What passes in the sea; Last Sunday week, at 2 P.M., That Cod was picking me!" XI. "Those oysters, too, that look so plump, And seem so nicely done, They put my corpse in many shells, Instead of only one." XII. "Oh, do not eat those oysters then, And do not touch the shrimps; When I was in my briny grave, They sucked my blood like imps!" XIII. "Don't eat what brutes would never eat, The brutes I used to pat, They'll know the smell they used to smell, Just try the dog and cat!" XIV. The spirit fled--they wept his fate, And cried, Alack, alack! At last up started brother Jim, "Let's try if Jack, was Jack!" XV. They called the Dog, they called the Cat, And little Kitten too, And down they put the Cod and sauce, To see what brutes would do. XVI. Old Tray licked all the oysters up, Puss never stood at crimps, But munched the Cod--and little Kit Quite feasted on the shrimps! XVII. The thing was odd, and minus Cod And sauce, they stood like posts; Oh, prudent folks, for fear of hoax, Put no belief in Ghosts! THE DUEL. A SERIOUS BALLAD. "Like the two Kings of Brentford smelling at one nosegay." In Brentford town, of old renown, There lived a Mister Bray, Who fell in love with Lucy Bell, And so did Mr. Clay. To see her ride from Hammersmith, By all it was allowed, Such fair outsides are seldom seen, Such Angels on a Cloud. Said Mr. Bray to Mr. Clay, You choose to rival me, And court Miss Bell, but there your court No thoroughfare shall be. Unless you now give up your suit, You may repent your love; I who have shot a pigeon match, Can shoot a turtle dove. So pray before you woo her more, Consider what you do; If you pop aught to Lucy Bell-- I'll pop it into you.