Page:Thrummy cap (2).pdf/19



THE GIG DEMOLISHED;

A POEM, By Mrs. Barbauld.

YE heroes of the upper form, Who long for whip and reins, Come listen to a dismal tale, Set forth in dismal strains.

Young Jehu was a lad of fame, As all the school could tell, At cricket, taw, or prison bars, He bore away the bell.

Now welcome Whitsuntide was come, And boys with merry hearts Were gone to visit their mamma, And eat their pies and tarts.

As soon as Jehu saw his sire, A boon, a boon, he cried, O if I am your darling boy, Let me not be denied.

My darling boy indeed thou art, The father wise replied; So name the boon; I promise thee It shall not be denied.

Then give me, Sir, your long lash'd whip, And give your gig and pair, That I may drive to yonder town, And flourish through the fair.