Next day he was out in the open street, And standing upon the stand, He heard the trip of her coming feet, 'Twas sweet as a German band. And forth he went and accosted her, He could not brook delay, "Hey up, look here, little gurl," said he, "I saw you yesterday." "I saw you yesterday. My 'eart Went out across your feet, And from your beauty came a dart That fixed me all complete; And all last night I dreamed a dream, To my bedside you came-- You'll marvel at these words of him Who does not know your name. "I saw you yesterday. You smile." His eyes, like burning beads, Took root in her inmost soul the while, As deep as the ditch-grown weeds. "You smile. Ha, ha! to smile and laugh Is better than aye to frown It's fitter to whiffle away the chaff That covers a golden crown. "It's better to whittle away the cheat Of mankind if you can." And he cracked his whip. "It's a fair deceit And I am a curious man-- Yes I am a curious man, my badge Is seventeen seventy-seven, But wot is a badge? It's a very small thing To the matches wot's made in Heaven!" [Illustration] "How sweet he speaks!" the maiden thought "He's a lord in a rough disguise, As a cabman old he's coming to woo And give me a grand surprise; He seeks to hide himself in a mask, With a nose like a strawberrie, But I've read too many of three vol. novs., He couldn't disguise from me. "The Lord of Burleigh while incog. Did wed an humble bride, And legend lore recounteth more Of love like his beside. I've heard the ballad of Huntingtower, And some I forget by name, And when he's got rid of his strawberrie nose He'll maybe be one of the same!" [Illustration] And she fondly looked on him, I ween, Sweet as the hawthorn spray, When all in bloom of white and green, It decks the month of May. "Oh, dearest Cabman," spoke she then, "No brighter fate were mine Than this: to be thine own laydee, My life with thee to twine. "But I am poor and lowly born, And never a match for thee-- A girl a man like you would scorn, A ward in the Chancerie, With only a hundred thousand pounds, It may be less or more; But do not wreck a confiding heart, It often was done before." [Illustration] "Wo! ho!" quoth he, and in his sleeve He grinned, "It's a big mistake. The Chancerie is only a blind, But, yet, I am wide awake. If a hundred thousand pounds wor her's, She wouldn't be makin' free; I'd have to court her a little bit more, Before she'd be courtin' me.