V.

Lady Jingly answered sadly,
And her tears began to flow,—­
“Your proposal comes too late,
Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo! 
I would be your wife most gladly!”
(Here she twirled her fingers madly,)
“But in England I’ve a mate! 
Yes! you’ve asked me far too late,
For in England I’ve a mate,
Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo! 
Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!

VI.

“Mr. Jones (his name is Handel,—­
Handel Jones, Esquire, & Co.)
Dorking fowls delights to send,
Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo! 
Keep, oh, keep your chairs and candle,
And your jug without a handle,—­
I can merely be your friend! 
Should my Jones more Dorkings send,
I will give you three, my friend! 
Mr. Yonghy-Bongy-Bo! 
Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!

VII.

“Though you’ve such a tiny body,
And your head so large doth grow,—­
Though your hat may blow away,
Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo! 
Though you’re such a Hoddy Doddy,
Yet I wish that I could modi-
fy the words I needs must say! 
Will you please to go away? 
That is all I have to say,
Mr. Yongby-Bonghy-Bo! 
Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!”

VIII.

Down the slippery slopes of Myrtle,
Where the early pumpkins blow,
To the calm and silent sea
Fled the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo. 
There, beyond the Bay of Gurtle,
Lay a large and lively Turtle. 
“You’re the Cove,” he said, “for me;
On your back beyond the sea,
Turtle, you shall carry me!”
Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,
Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

[Illustration]

IX.

Through the silent-roaring ocean
Did the Turtle swiftly go;
Holding fast upon his shell
Rode the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo. 
With a sad primaeval motion
Towards the sunset isles of Boshen
Still the Turtle bore him well. 
Holding fast upon his shell,
“Lady Jingly Jones, farewell!”
Sang the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,
Sang the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

X.

From the Coast of Coromandel
Did that Lady never go;
On that heap of stones she mourns
For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo. 
On that Coast of Coromandel,
In his jug without a handle
Still she weeps, and daily moans;
On that little heap of stones
To her Dorking Hens she moans,
For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,
For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

THE POBBLE WHO HAS NO TOES.

[Illustration]

I.

    The Pobble who has no toes
        Had once as many as we;
    When they said, “Some day you may lose them all;”
        He replied, “Fish fiddle de-dee!”
    And his Aunt Jobiska made him drink
    Lavender water tinged with pink;
    For she said, “The World in general knows
    There’s nothing so good for a Pobble’s toes!”

II.