FAITHLESS SALLY BROWN.1

YOUNG BEN he was a nice young man,
A carpenter by trade;

And he fell in love with Sally Brown,
That was a lady's maid.

But as they fetch'd a walk one day,
They met a press-gang crew;
And Sally she did faint away,

*

Whilst Ben he was brought to.

*

Now Ben had sail'd to many a place
That's underneath the world;

But in two years the ship came home,
And all her sails were furl'd.

But when he call'd on Sally Brown,
To see how she got on,

He found she'd got another Ben,
Whose Christian-name was John.

"Oh, Sally Brown, Oh, Sally Brown,
How could you serve me so,
I've met with many a breeze before,
But never such a blow!"

Then reading on his 'bacco box,
He heaved a heavy sigh,
And then began to eye his pipe,
And then to pipe his eye.

And then he tried to sing 'All's Well,'
But could not, though he tried ;

His head was turn'd, and so he chew'd
His pig-tail till he died.

1 A specimen of witty rather than of humorous writing. There is more to admire than to laugh at in the ballad of Sally Brown. It is a good example of Hood's marvellous and unequalled power of punning.

2 pigtail-in former times sailors wore their hair twisted into a queue or pig-tail at the back of the head. 'Pig-tail' is also the name of a particular kind of coarse tobacco.

His death which happen'd in his berth,

At forty-odd befel:

They went and told the sexton, and

The sexton toll'd the bell.

Thomas Hood: 1798-1845.

(See page 72.)

SIR SIDNEY SMITH.1

GENTLEFOLKS, in my time, I've made many a rhyme, But the song I now trouble you with

Lays some claim to applause, and you'll grant it, because The subject's Sir Sidney Smith, it is

The subject's Sir Sidney Smith.

We all know Sir Sidney, a man of such kidney,
He'd fight every foe he could meet;

Give him one ship or two, and without more ado,
He'd engage if he met a whole fleet, he would-
He'd engage if he met a whole fleet.

Thus he took, every day, all that came in his way,
Till fortune, that changeable elf,

Order'd accidents so, that, while taking the foe,
Sir Sidney got taken himself, he did―
Sir Sidney got taken himself.

His captors, right glad of the prize they now had,
Rejected each offer we bid,

And swore he should stay, lock'd up till doomsday,
But he swore he'd be hang'd if he did, he did—
But he swore he'd be hang'd if he did.

So Sir Sid got away, and his gaoler next day
Cried, 'Sacré, diable, morbleu !

Mon prissonier 'scape, I 'ave got in von scrape,
And I fear I must run away too, I must-

I fear I must run away too.'

Thomas Dibdin: 1771-1841.

Son of Charles Dibdin, the celebrated writer of naval songs, (1745-1814). Thomas and his brother Charles were both songwriters and dramatists.

1 Illustrating humour mainly dependent on colloquial style.

A FAREWELL.

My fairest child, I have no song to give you;
No lark could pipe to skies so dull and gray;
Yet, ere we part, one lesson I can leave you
For every day.

Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever,
Do noble things, not dream them, all day long;
And so make life, death, and that vast forever,
One grand, sweet song.

Charles Kingsley: 1819-1875.

FINIS.

(See page 32.)

LONDON RELFE BROTHERS, CHARTERHOUSE BUILDINGS, ALDERSGATE, E.C,