THE TRUANTS.
Three little Demons have broken looseFrom the National School below!They are resolved to play truant to-day,Their primer and slate they have cast away,And away, away they go!"Hey boys! hey boys! up go we!Who so merry as we three?"The reek of that most infernal pit,Where sinful souls are stewing,Rises so black, that in viewing it,A thousand to one but you'd ask with surpriseAs its murky columns meet your eyes,"Pray is Old Nick a-brewing?"Thither these three little Devils repair,And mount by steam to the uppermost air.They have got hold of a wandering star,That happened to come within hail.O swiftly they glide! As they merrily rideAll a cock-stride Of that Comet's tail.Oh the pranks! Oh the pranks,The merry pranks, the mad pranks,These wicked urchins play!They kissed theVirginand filled her with dread,They popped theScorpioninto her bed;They broke the pitcher of poorAquarius,They stole the arrows ofSagittarius,And they skimmed theMilky Way.They filled theScaleswith sulphur full,They halloed theDog-staron at theBull,And pleased themselves with the noise.They set theLionOn poorOrion;They shaved all the hair Off theLesser Bear!They kicked the shins Of theGemini Twins—Those heavenly Siamese Boys!—Never was such confusion and wrack,As they produced in the Zodiac!—"Huzza! Huzza! Away! Away!Let us go down to the earth and play!Now we go up, up, up, Now we go down, down, down,Now we go backwards, and forwards,Now we go round, round, round!"Thus they gambol, and scramble, and tear,Till at last they arrive at the nethermost air.And pray now what were these Devilets called?These three little Fiends so gay?One wasCob! Another wasMob!The last and the least was youngChittabob!Queer little Devils were they!Cobwas the strongest,Mobwas the wrongest,Chittabob'stail was the finest and longest!Three more frolicsome Imps, I ween,Beelzebub's self hath seldom seen.Over Mountain, over Fell, Glassy Fountain, mossy Dell,Rocky Island, barren Strand, Over Ocean, over Land;With frisk and bound, and squeaks and squalls,Heels over head, and head over heels;With curlings and twistings, and twirls and wheeleries,Down they drop at the gate of theTuilleries.Courtiers were bowing and making legs,While Charleyle Roiwas bolting eggs;"Mob," saysCob, "Chittabob," saysMob,"Come here, you young Devil,we're in for a job!"Up jumpsCobto the Monarch's ear,"Charley, my jolly boy, never fear;If you mind all their jaw About Charter and Law,You might just as well still be theCount d'Artois!No such thing, Show 'em you're King,Tip 'em an Ordinance, that's the thing!"Charley dined, Took his pen and signed;ThenMobkicked over his throne from behind!"Huzza! Huzza! we may scamper now!For here we have kicked up a jolly good row!""Over the water, and over the Sea,And over the water with Charlie;"Now they came skipping and grinning with glee,Not pausing tochaffor to parley.Over, over, On to Dover;On fun intent, All through KentThese mischievous devils so merrily went.Over hill and over dale,Sunken hollow, lofty ridge,Frowning cliff, and smiling vale,Down to the foot of Westminster-bridge."Hollo," saysCob, "There's the Duke and Sir Bob!After 'em Chittabob, after 'em Mob."Mobflung gravel, and Chittabob pebbles,His Grace c——'d them both for a couple of rebels;His feelings were hurt By the stones and the dirt—In went he, In an ecstasy,Andblew upthe nobles of high degree."Mr. Brougham, Mr. Hume, May fret and may fume—And so may all you whom I see in this room;Come weal, come woe, come calm, come storm—I'll see you all—blessed—ere I give you reform;""Bravo," says Chittabob, "That's your sort,Come along, schoolfellows, here's more sport.Look there! look there! There's the great Lord May'r!With the gravest of Deputies close to his chair;With Hobbler, his Clerk! Just the thing fora lark;Huzza! huzza! boys, follow me now;Here we maykickup another good row."Here they are, Swift as a star,They shoot in mid air, over Temple Bar!Tom Macaulay beheld the flightOf these three little dusky sons of night,And his heart swell'd with joy and elation—"Oh, see!" quoth he, "ThoseNiggerlingsthree,Who have just gotemancipation!"Lord Key took fright: At the very first sight,The whole Court of Aldermen wheel'd to the right;Some ran fromChittabob—more fromMob,The greatlocum tenensjump'd up uponCob,Who roar'd and ran, With the AldermanTo the Home Office, pick-a-back—catch 'em who can!"Stay at home—here's a plot, And I can't tell you what,If you don't I'll be shot, But you'll all go to pot."Ah, little he weened while the ground he thus ran over,'Twas aCobhe bestrode—not his white horse from Hanover.Back they came galloping through the Strand,When Joseph Lancaster, stick in hand,Popped up his head before 'em.Well we know That honest old JoeIs a sort of High Master down below,And teaches the Imps decorum.Satan had started him off in a crack,To flog those three little runaways back.Fear each assails; Every one quails;"Oh dear! how he'll tickle our little black tails!Have done, have done, Here's that son of a gun,Old Joe, come after us,—run, boys, run."Off ranCob, Off ranMob,And off in a fright ran young Chittabob.Joe caught Chittabob just by the tail,And Cob by his crumpled horn;Bitterly then did these Imps bewailThat ever they were born!Mobgot away, But none to this dayKnow exactly whither he went;Some say he's been seen about Blackfriars-bridge,And some say he's down in Kent.But where'er he may roam,He has not ventured homeSince the day the three took wing,And many suppose He has chang'd his clothes,And now goes by the name of "Swing."
Three little Demons have broken looseFrom the National School below!They are resolved to play truant to-day,Their primer and slate they have cast away,And away, away they go!"Hey boys! hey boys! up go we!Who so merry as we three?"The reek of that most infernal pit,Where sinful souls are stewing,Rises so black, that in viewing it,A thousand to one but you'd ask with surpriseAs its murky columns meet your eyes,"Pray is Old Nick a-brewing?"Thither these three little Devils repair,And mount by steam to the uppermost air.They have got hold of a wandering star,That happened to come within hail.O swiftly they glide! As they merrily rideAll a cock-stride Of that Comet's tail.Oh the pranks! Oh the pranks,The merry pranks, the mad pranks,These wicked urchins play!They kissed theVirginand filled her with dread,They popped theScorpioninto her bed;They broke the pitcher of poorAquarius,They stole the arrows ofSagittarius,And they skimmed theMilky Way.They filled theScaleswith sulphur full,They halloed theDog-staron at theBull,And pleased themselves with the noise.They set theLionOn poorOrion;They shaved all the hair Off theLesser Bear!They kicked the shins Of theGemini Twins—Those heavenly Siamese Boys!—Never was such confusion and wrack,As they produced in the Zodiac!—"Huzza! Huzza! Away! Away!Let us go down to the earth and play!Now we go up, up, up, Now we go down, down, down,Now we go backwards, and forwards,Now we go round, round, round!"Thus they gambol, and scramble, and tear,Till at last they arrive at the nethermost air.And pray now what were these Devilets called?These three little Fiends so gay?One wasCob! Another wasMob!The last and the least was youngChittabob!Queer little Devils were they!Cobwas the strongest,Mobwas the wrongest,Chittabob'stail was the finest and longest!Three more frolicsome Imps, I ween,Beelzebub's self hath seldom seen.Over Mountain, over Fell, Glassy Fountain, mossy Dell,Rocky Island, barren Strand, Over Ocean, over Land;With frisk and bound, and squeaks and squalls,Heels over head, and head over heels;With curlings and twistings, and twirls and wheeleries,Down they drop at the gate of theTuilleries.Courtiers were bowing and making legs,While Charleyle Roiwas bolting eggs;"Mob," saysCob, "Chittabob," saysMob,"Come here, you young Devil,we're in for a job!"Up jumpsCobto the Monarch's ear,"Charley, my jolly boy, never fear;If you mind all their jaw About Charter and Law,You might just as well still be theCount d'Artois!No such thing, Show 'em you're King,Tip 'em an Ordinance, that's the thing!"Charley dined, Took his pen and signed;ThenMobkicked over his throne from behind!"Huzza! Huzza! we may scamper now!For here we have kicked up a jolly good row!""Over the water, and over the Sea,And over the water with Charlie;"Now they came skipping and grinning with glee,Not pausing tochaffor to parley.Over, over, On to Dover;On fun intent, All through KentThese mischievous devils so merrily went.Over hill and over dale,Sunken hollow, lofty ridge,Frowning cliff, and smiling vale,Down to the foot of Westminster-bridge."Hollo," saysCob, "There's the Duke and Sir Bob!After 'em Chittabob, after 'em Mob."Mobflung gravel, and Chittabob pebbles,His Grace c——'d them both for a couple of rebels;His feelings were hurt By the stones and the dirt—In went he, In an ecstasy,Andblew upthe nobles of high degree."Mr. Brougham, Mr. Hume, May fret and may fume—And so may all you whom I see in this room;Come weal, come woe, come calm, come storm—I'll see you all—blessed—ere I give you reform;""Bravo," says Chittabob, "That's your sort,Come along, schoolfellows, here's more sport.Look there! look there! There's the great Lord May'r!With the gravest of Deputies close to his chair;With Hobbler, his Clerk! Just the thing fora lark;Huzza! huzza! boys, follow me now;Here we maykickup another good row."Here they are, Swift as a star,They shoot in mid air, over Temple Bar!Tom Macaulay beheld the flightOf these three little dusky sons of night,And his heart swell'd with joy and elation—"Oh, see!" quoth he, "ThoseNiggerlingsthree,Who have just gotemancipation!"Lord Key took fright: At the very first sight,The whole Court of Aldermen wheel'd to the right;Some ran fromChittabob—more fromMob,The greatlocum tenensjump'd up uponCob,Who roar'd and ran, With the AldermanTo the Home Office, pick-a-back—catch 'em who can!"Stay at home—here's a plot, And I can't tell you what,If you don't I'll be shot, But you'll all go to pot."Ah, little he weened while the ground he thus ran over,'Twas aCobhe bestrode—not his white horse from Hanover.Back they came galloping through the Strand,When Joseph Lancaster, stick in hand,Popped up his head before 'em.Well we know That honest old JoeIs a sort of High Master down below,And teaches the Imps decorum.Satan had started him off in a crack,To flog those three little runaways back.Fear each assails; Every one quails;"Oh dear! how he'll tickle our little black tails!Have done, have done, Here's that son of a gun,Old Joe, come after us,—run, boys, run."Off ranCob, Off ranMob,And off in a fright ran young Chittabob.Joe caught Chittabob just by the tail,And Cob by his crumpled horn;Bitterly then did these Imps bewailThat ever they were born!Mobgot away, But none to this dayKnow exactly whither he went;Some say he's been seen about Blackfriars-bridge,And some say he's down in Kent.But where'er he may roam,He has not ventured homeSince the day the three took wing,And many suppose He has chang'd his clothes,And now goes by the name of "Swing."
Three little Demons have broken looseFrom the National School below!They are resolved to play truant to-day,Their primer and slate they have cast away,And away, away they go!"Hey boys! hey boys! up go we!Who so merry as we three?"
The reek of that most infernal pit,Where sinful souls are stewing,Rises so black, that in viewing it,A thousand to one but you'd ask with surpriseAs its murky columns meet your eyes,"Pray is Old Nick a-brewing?"Thither these three little Devils repair,And mount by steam to the uppermost air.
They have got hold of a wandering star,That happened to come within hail.O swiftly they glide! As they merrily rideAll a cock-stride Of that Comet's tail.Oh the pranks! Oh the pranks,The merry pranks, the mad pranks,These wicked urchins play!They kissed theVirginand filled her with dread,They popped theScorpioninto her bed;They broke the pitcher of poorAquarius,They stole the arrows ofSagittarius,And they skimmed theMilky Way.They filled theScaleswith sulphur full,They halloed theDog-staron at theBull,And pleased themselves with the noise.They set theLionOn poorOrion;They shaved all the hair Off theLesser Bear!They kicked the shins Of theGemini Twins—Those heavenly Siamese Boys!—Never was such confusion and wrack,As they produced in the Zodiac!—
"Huzza! Huzza! Away! Away!Let us go down to the earth and play!Now we go up, up, up, Now we go down, down, down,Now we go backwards, and forwards,Now we go round, round, round!"Thus they gambol, and scramble, and tear,Till at last they arrive at the nethermost air.
And pray now what were these Devilets called?These three little Fiends so gay?One wasCob! Another wasMob!The last and the least was youngChittabob!Queer little Devils were they!Cobwas the strongest,Mobwas the wrongest,Chittabob'stail was the finest and longest!Three more frolicsome Imps, I ween,Beelzebub's self hath seldom seen.
Over Mountain, over Fell, Glassy Fountain, mossy Dell,Rocky Island, barren Strand, Over Ocean, over Land;With frisk and bound, and squeaks and squalls,Heels over head, and head over heels;With curlings and twistings, and twirls and wheeleries,Down they drop at the gate of theTuilleries.
Courtiers were bowing and making legs,While Charleyle Roiwas bolting eggs;"Mob," saysCob, "Chittabob," saysMob,"Come here, you young Devil,we're in for a job!"Up jumpsCobto the Monarch's ear,"Charley, my jolly boy, never fear;If you mind all their jaw About Charter and Law,You might just as well still be theCount d'Artois!No such thing, Show 'em you're King,Tip 'em an Ordinance, that's the thing!"Charley dined, Took his pen and signed;ThenMobkicked over his throne from behind!"Huzza! Huzza! we may scamper now!For here we have kicked up a jolly good row!"
"Over the water, and over the Sea,And over the water with Charlie;"Now they came skipping and grinning with glee,Not pausing tochaffor to parley.Over, over, On to Dover;On fun intent, All through KentThese mischievous devils so merrily went.
Over hill and over dale,Sunken hollow, lofty ridge,Frowning cliff, and smiling vale,Down to the foot of Westminster-bridge."Hollo," saysCob, "There's the Duke and Sir Bob!After 'em Chittabob, after 'em Mob."Mobflung gravel, and Chittabob pebbles,His Grace c——'d them both for a couple of rebels;His feelings were hurt By the stones and the dirt—In went he, In an ecstasy,Andblew upthe nobles of high degree.
"Mr. Brougham, Mr. Hume, May fret and may fume—And so may all you whom I see in this room;Come weal, come woe, come calm, come storm—I'll see you all—blessed—ere I give you reform;""Bravo," says Chittabob, "That's your sort,Come along, schoolfellows, here's more sport.Look there! look there! There's the great Lord May'r!With the gravest of Deputies close to his chair;With Hobbler, his Clerk! Just the thing fora lark;Huzza! huzza! boys, follow me now;Here we maykickup another good row."Here they are, Swift as a star,They shoot in mid air, over Temple Bar!Tom Macaulay beheld the flightOf these three little dusky sons of night,And his heart swell'd with joy and elation—"Oh, see!" quoth he, "ThoseNiggerlingsthree,Who have just gotemancipation!"
Lord Key took fright: At the very first sight,The whole Court of Aldermen wheel'd to the right;Some ran fromChittabob—more fromMob,The greatlocum tenensjump'd up uponCob,Who roar'd and ran, With the AldermanTo the Home Office, pick-a-back—catch 'em who can!"Stay at home—here's a plot, And I can't tell you what,If you don't I'll be shot, But you'll all go to pot."Ah, little he weened while the ground he thus ran over,'Twas aCobhe bestrode—not his white horse from Hanover.
Back they came galloping through the Strand,When Joseph Lancaster, stick in hand,Popped up his head before 'em.Well we know That honest old JoeIs a sort of High Master down below,And teaches the Imps decorum.Satan had started him off in a crack,To flog those three little runaways back.
Fear each assails; Every one quails;"Oh dear! how he'll tickle our little black tails!Have done, have done, Here's that son of a gun,Old Joe, come after us,—run, boys, run."Off ranCob, Off ranMob,And off in a fright ran young Chittabob.Joe caught Chittabob just by the tail,And Cob by his crumpled horn;Bitterly then did these Imps bewailThat ever they were born!Mobgot away, But none to this dayKnow exactly whither he went;Some say he's been seen about Blackfriars-bridge,And some say he's down in Kent.
But where'er he may roam,He has not ventured homeSince the day the three took wing,And many suppose He has chang'd his clothes,And now goes by the name of "Swing."