A Frenchman once, who was a merry wight,Passing to town from Dover, in the night,Near the roadside an alehouse chanced to spy,And being rather tired, as well as dry,Resolved to enter; but first he took a peep,In hopes a supper he might get, and cheap.He enters. "Hallo, garçon, if you please,Bring me a leetel bit of bread and cheese,And hallo, garçon, a pot of porter, too!" he said,"Vich I shall take, and den myself to bed."His supper done, some scraps of cheese were left,Which our poor Frenchman, thinking it no theft,Into his pocket put; then slowly creptTo wished-for bed. But not a wink he slept;For on the floor some sacks of flour were laid,To which the rats a nightly visit paid.Our hero now undressed, popped out the light,Put on his cap, and bade the world good-night;But first his breeches, which contained the fare,Under his pillow he had placed with care.Sans ceremonie, soon the rats all ran,And on the flour-sacks greedily began,At which they gorged themselves; then, smelling round,Under the pillow soon the cheese they found;And, while at this they all regaling sat,Their happy jaws disturbed the Frenchman's nap;Who, half-awake, cries out, "Hallo, hallo!Vat is dat nibble at my pillow so?Ah, 'tis one big—one very big, huge rat!Vat is it that he nibble, nibble at?"In vain our little hero sought repose;Sometimes the vermin galloped o'er his nose.And such the pranks they kept up all the nightThat he, on end,—antipodes upright,—Bawling aloud, called stoutly for a light."Hallo, maison, garçon, I say!Bring me the bill for what I have to pay."The bill was brought; and, to his great surprise,Ten shillings was the charge. He scarce believed his eyes.With eager haste, he quickly runs it o'er,And every time he viewed it thought it more."Vy, zounds and zounds!" he cries, "I sall no pay;Vat! charge ten shelangs for what I havemangé?A leetel sop of portar, dis vile bed,Vare all de rats do run about my head?""Plague on those rats!" the landlord muttered out;"I wish, upon my word, that I could make 'em scout:I'll pay him well that can."—"Vat's dat you say?""I'll pay him well that can."—"Attend to me, I pray:Vill you dis charge forego, vat I am at,If from your house I drive away de rat?""With all my heart," the jolly host replies."Ecoutez donc, ami," the Frenchman cries."First d'en,—regardez, if you please,—Bring to dis spot a leetel bread and cheese:Eh bien!a pot of porter too;And den invite de rats to sup vid you;And after dat,—no matter dey be villing,—For vat dey eat, youchargedem justten shelang:And I am sure, ven dey behold de score,Dey'll quit your house, andnever come no more."
A Frenchman once, who was a merry wight,Passing to town from Dover, in the night,Near the roadside an alehouse chanced to spy,And being rather tired, as well as dry,Resolved to enter; but first he took a peep,In hopes a supper he might get, and cheap.He enters. "Hallo, garçon, if you please,Bring me a leetel bit of bread and cheese,And hallo, garçon, a pot of porter, too!" he said,"Vich I shall take, and den myself to bed."His supper done, some scraps of cheese were left,Which our poor Frenchman, thinking it no theft,Into his pocket put; then slowly creptTo wished-for bed. But not a wink he slept;For on the floor some sacks of flour were laid,To which the rats a nightly visit paid.Our hero now undressed, popped out the light,Put on his cap, and bade the world good-night;But first his breeches, which contained the fare,Under his pillow he had placed with care.Sans ceremonie, soon the rats all ran,And on the flour-sacks greedily began,At which they gorged themselves; then, smelling round,Under the pillow soon the cheese they found;And, while at this they all regaling sat,Their happy jaws disturbed the Frenchman's nap;Who, half-awake, cries out, "Hallo, hallo!Vat is dat nibble at my pillow so?Ah, 'tis one big—one very big, huge rat!Vat is it that he nibble, nibble at?"In vain our little hero sought repose;Sometimes the vermin galloped o'er his nose.And such the pranks they kept up all the nightThat he, on end,—antipodes upright,—Bawling aloud, called stoutly for a light."Hallo, maison, garçon, I say!Bring me the bill for what I have to pay."The bill was brought; and, to his great surprise,Ten shillings was the charge. He scarce believed his eyes.With eager haste, he quickly runs it o'er,And every time he viewed it thought it more."Vy, zounds and zounds!" he cries, "I sall no pay;Vat! charge ten shelangs for what I havemangé?A leetel sop of portar, dis vile bed,Vare all de rats do run about my head?""Plague on those rats!" the landlord muttered out;"I wish, upon my word, that I could make 'em scout:I'll pay him well that can."—"Vat's dat you say?""I'll pay him well that can."—"Attend to me, I pray:Vill you dis charge forego, vat I am at,If from your house I drive away de rat?""With all my heart," the jolly host replies."Ecoutez donc, ami," the Frenchman cries."First d'en,—regardez, if you please,—Bring to dis spot a leetel bread and cheese:Eh bien!a pot of porter too;And den invite de rats to sup vid you;And after dat,—no matter dey be villing,—For vat dey eat, youchargedem justten shelang:And I am sure, ven dey behold de score,Dey'll quit your house, andnever come no more."
A Frenchman once, who was a merry wight,Passing to town from Dover, in the night,Near the roadside an alehouse chanced to spy,And being rather tired, as well as dry,Resolved to enter; but first he took a peep,In hopes a supper he might get, and cheap.He enters. "Hallo, garçon, if you please,Bring me a leetel bit of bread and cheese,And hallo, garçon, a pot of porter, too!" he said,"Vich I shall take, and den myself to bed."
His supper done, some scraps of cheese were left,Which our poor Frenchman, thinking it no theft,Into his pocket put; then slowly creptTo wished-for bed. But not a wink he slept;For on the floor some sacks of flour were laid,To which the rats a nightly visit paid.Our hero now undressed, popped out the light,Put on his cap, and bade the world good-night;But first his breeches, which contained the fare,Under his pillow he had placed with care.
Sans ceremonie, soon the rats all ran,And on the flour-sacks greedily began,At which they gorged themselves; then, smelling round,Under the pillow soon the cheese they found;And, while at this they all regaling sat,Their happy jaws disturbed the Frenchman's nap;Who, half-awake, cries out, "Hallo, hallo!Vat is dat nibble at my pillow so?Ah, 'tis one big—one very big, huge rat!Vat is it that he nibble, nibble at?"
In vain our little hero sought repose;Sometimes the vermin galloped o'er his nose.And such the pranks they kept up all the nightThat he, on end,—antipodes upright,—Bawling aloud, called stoutly for a light."Hallo, maison, garçon, I say!Bring me the bill for what I have to pay."The bill was brought; and, to his great surprise,Ten shillings was the charge. He scarce believed his eyes.With eager haste, he quickly runs it o'er,And every time he viewed it thought it more.
"Vy, zounds and zounds!" he cries, "I sall no pay;Vat! charge ten shelangs for what I havemangé?A leetel sop of portar, dis vile bed,Vare all de rats do run about my head?""Plague on those rats!" the landlord muttered out;"I wish, upon my word, that I could make 'em scout:I'll pay him well that can."—"Vat's dat you say?""I'll pay him well that can."—"Attend to me, I pray:Vill you dis charge forego, vat I am at,If from your house I drive away de rat?""With all my heart," the jolly host replies."Ecoutez donc, ami," the Frenchman cries."First d'en,—regardez, if you please,—Bring to dis spot a leetel bread and cheese:Eh bien!a pot of porter too;And den invite de rats to sup vid you;And after dat,—no matter dey be villing,—For vat dey eat, youchargedem justten shelang:And I am sure, ven dey behold de score,Dey'll quit your house, andnever come no more."