Absurd Ditties

(Oh, well bred flock! there was not one
Who did not laugh at this poor pun;
They revelled in their Bishop's fun.
They even cried "Encore!")

Then spake the Mate (whose name was Ted):
"Now this 'ere stuff, so I've 'eard said,
Will make the 'air grow on yer 'ead
As thick as any mat."
"Indeed?" quoth worthy Bishop P.;
"Then 'tis the very thing for me,
For I am bald, as you may see."
His Grace removed his hat.

The Bo'sun quickly broke the neck
Of one large bottle from the wreck,
Proceeding then His Grace to deck
With towels (careful man,
This was to save his coat of black,
For "Tatcho" running down one's back
Is clearly off its proper tack).
And then the fun began.

For Ted he rubbed the liquid through,
As hard as ever he could do.
And worthy Jack rubbed some in too
(The Bo'sun's name was Jack).
And day by day they did the same.
Now "Tatcho" ne'er belies its fame,
And soon a little hair there came
(His Lordship's hair is black).

Miss Lollipoppee views with glee
The change in worthy Bishop P.
Now quite agreed to wed is she
(The banns were called to-day).
No "just cause or impediment"
Can interfere with their content;
The natives' loyal sentiment
Is summed up in "Hooray!"

IV

THAT OF CAPTAIN ARCHIBALD McKAN

There never lived a worthier man
Than Captain Archibald McKan.
I knew him well some time ago
(I speak of twenty years or so);
Sans peur et sans reproche was he;
He was the soul of chivalry,
Was Captain Archibald McKan.

True greatness showed in all his mien,
No haughty pride in him was seen,
Though, captain of a steamer, he,
From Greenwich unto far Chelsea,
That, spite of weather, wind, and tide,
From early Spring to Autumn plied,
Brave, modest Captain A. McKan.

However sternly might his roar
Reverberate from shore to shore
Of "Ease her! Back her! Hard astern!"
His duty done, with smile he'd turn
And be most affable and mild
To every woman, man, or child
Aboard, would Captain A. McKan.

He reassured the anxious fears
Of nervous ladies – pretty dears! —
He in his pocket carried toys
And sweets for little girls and boys;
He talked in quite familiar way
With men who voyaged day by day,
Did Captain Archibald McKan.

In fact, as I've already said,
No man alive – or even dead —
Was freer from reproach than he;
And yet of Fortune's irony
(Though such a very decent sort)
This worthy man was e'en the sport.
Alas! was Captain A. McKan!

"Cherchez la femme." The phrase is trite,
Yet here, as usual, 'twas right.
Our Captain noted every day
A certain girl rode all the way
From Greenwich Pier to Wapping Stair.
"It cannot be to take the air,"
Thought Captain Archibald McKan.

She calmly sat, with downcast eye;
And looking both demure and shy;
Yet, once, he caught a roving glance,
Which made his pulses wildly dance;
And, – though as modest as could be —
"I do believe she's gone on me,"
Considered Captain A. McKan.