Mirth and metre (1855) (14776101734)

Identifier: mirthmetre00smed (find matches)
Title: Mirth and metre
Year: 1855 (1850s)
Authors: Smedley, Frank E. (Frank Edward), 1818-1864 Yates, Edmund Hodgson, 1831-1894 McConnell, William, 1833-1867
Subjects:
Publisher: London New York : G. Routledge
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: The Library of Congress



Text Appearing Before Image:
as Captain De Boots, of Her Majestys Household Brigade, heSat by the side of Miss Vernon, and talked in so earnest a whisper,That the rest called it a case, and begged to have cake and gloves sent them.Scarce was the party on shore when several ran up to meet them,Chattering, laughing young girls, and matrons more serious and sober,Hen from the City,^resplendent in whiskers and large-patterned trousers—Men from the West, who relied on their manners much more than their costume—Marvellous were the shirt-collars encircling the necks of the young ones,Seemed it as though they were made of a cross between buckram and mill-board;)\Iarvellous, too, was their conduct, a mixture of insult and folly,,Gods! how absurd were their airs, how silly, insane, and precocious. !Now began frolic and mirth, pleasant pastimes and games in which all joined,And where een fathers and mothers partook of the fun with their children,u Huntiug the Slipper, ( by Jove! what fun can be had at that same, sir 1 )
Text Appearing After Image:
-J-1 • UBS -Jn : THE LATE PELLUCID RIVERS, ESQ. 105 How, when, and where! Prisoners Base! but not until dinner was overPlayed they at Blindmans Buff, the climax of riot and revel.Gathering their dresses close round them, the ladies sat down on the herbage,Laughing at every speech, and screaming at popping champagne corks,While their attentive gallants were constantly hovering near them,Handing the wings of cold fowls and trembling blancmanges and jellies. More can I not write at present. Ive striven to laugh on this subject,But neath my placid external beats sadly a heart crushed and blighted!Shall I confess to ye the reason 1 Know then, that at this said picnic,Fired by the fumes of champagne and strong deleterious potions,Placed I my fortune and hand at the feet of Emily Bobins!Know then, that losing my balance I sprawled on the greensward before her,And, ere the evening was oer, got outrageously thrashed by her brother! Note oy the Editor.—In transcribing this poem from my frie