Изображения страниц
PDF
EPUB

She show'd her early tuition:

While the buds of character came into blow
With a certain tinge that served to show
The nursery culture long ago,

As the graft is known by fruition!

For the King's Physician, who nursed the case,
His verdict gave with an awful face,

And three others concurr'd to egg it;

That the Patient to give old Death the slip,
Like the Pope, instead of a personal trip,
Must send her Leg as a Legate.

The limb was doom'd-it couldn't be saved!
And like other people the patient behaved,
Nay, bravely that cruel parting braved,
Which makes some persons so falter,
They rather would part, without a groan,

With the flesh of their flesh, and bone of their bone,
They obtain'd at St. George's altar.

But when it came to fitting the stump
With a proxy limb-then flatly and plump

She spoke, in the spirit olden;

She couldn't-she shouldn't-she wouldn't have wood!

Nor a leg of cork, if she never stood,

And she swore an oath, or something as good,

The proxy limb should be golden!

A wooden leg! what, a sort of a peg,

For your common Jockeys and Jennies!
No, no, her mother might worry and plague—
Weep, go down on her knees, and beg,
But nothing would move Miss Kilmansegg!
She could-she would have a Golden Leg,
If it cost ten thousand guineas!

Wood indeed, in Forest or Park,
With its sylvan honors and feudal bark,

Is an aristocratical article:

But split and sawn, and hack'd about town,
Serving all needs of pauper or clown,
Trod on! stagger'd on! Wood cut down
Is vulgar-fibre and particle!

And Cork!-when the noble Cork Tree shades
A lovely group of Castilian maids,

'Tis a thing for a song or sonnet !—
But, cork, as it stops the bottle of gin,
Or bungs the beer-the small beer—in,
It pierced her heart like a corking pin,
To think of standing upon it!

A Leg of Gold-solid gold throughout,
Nothing else, whether slim or stout,

Should ever support her, God willing!
She must-she could-she would have her whim,
Her father, she turn'd a deaf ear to him—

He might kill her she didn't mind killing!
He was welcome to cut off her other limb-
He might cut her off with a shilling!

All other promised gifts were in vain,
Golden Girdle, or Golden Chain,
She writhed with impatience more than pain,
And utter'd "pshaws!" and "pishes!"
But a Leg of Gold! as she lay in bed,
It danced before her-it ran in her head!
It jump'd with her dearest wishes!

"Gold-gold-gold! Oh, let it be gold!"
Asleep or awake that tale she told,
And when she grew delirious:

Till her parents resolved to grant her wish,
If they melted down plate, and goblet, and dish,
The case was getting so serious.

So a Leg was made in a comely mould,
Of Gold, fine virgin glittering gold,

As solid as man could make it

Solid in foot, and calf, and shank,
A prodigious sum of money it sank;

In fact 'twas a Branch of the family Bank,
And no easy matter to break it.

All sterling metal-not half-and-half,

The Goldsmith's mark was stamp'd on the calf'Twas pure as from Mexican barter!

And to make it more costly, just over the knee,
Where another ligature used to be,

Was a circle of jewels, worth shillings to see,
A new-fangled Badge of the Garter!

'Twas a splendid, brilliant, beautiful Leg,
Fit for the Court of Scander-Beg,
That Precious Leg of Miss Kilmansegg!
For, thanks to parental bounty,
Secure from Mortification's touch,
She stood on a member that cost as much
As a Member for all the County!

HER FAME.

To gratify stern ambition's whims,
What hundreds and thousands of precious limbs
On a field of battle we scatter!
Sever'd by sword, or bullet, or saw,
Off they go, all bleeding and raw,
But the public seems to get the lock-jaw,
So little is said on the matter!

Legs, the tightest that ever were seen,
The tightest, the lightest, that danced on the green,
Cutting capers to sweet Kitty Clover;
Shatter'd, scatter'd, cut, and bowl'd down,

Off they go, worse off for renown,

A line in the Times, or a talk about town,
Than the leg that a fly runs over!

But the Precious Leg of Miss Kilmansegg,
That gowden, goolden, golden leg,

Was the theme of all conversation!
Had it been a Pillar of Church and State,
Or a prop to support the whole Dead Weight,
It could not have furnish'd more debate

To the heads and tails of the nation!

East and west, and north and south,
Though useless for either hunger or drouth,-
The Leg was in everybody's mouth,

To use a poetical figure,

Rumor, in taking her ravenous swim,
Saw, and seized on the tempting limb,
Like a shark on the leg of a nigger.

Wilful murder fell very dead;

Debates in the House were hardly read;
In vain the Police Reports were fed
With Irish riots and rumpuses———

The Leg! the Leg! was the great event,
Through every circle in life it went,

Like the leg of a pair of

compasses.

The last new Novel seem'd tame and flat,
The Leg, a novelty newer than that,

Had tripp'd up the heels of Fiction!
It Burked the very essays of Burke,

And, alas! how Wealth over Wit plays the Turk!
As a regular piece of goldsmith's work,
Got the better of Goldsmith's diction.

"A leg of gold! what of solid gold ?" Cried rich and poor, and young and old,

And Master and Miss and Madam

'Twas the talk of 'Change-the Alley—the Bank— And with men of scientific rank

It made as much stir as the fossil shank

Of a Lizard coeval with Adam!

Of course with Greenwich and Chelsea elves,
Men who had lost a limb themselves,

Its interest did not dwindle

But Bill, and Ben, and Jack, and Tom,
Could hardly have spun more yarns therefrom,
If the leg had been a spindle.

Meanwhile the story went to and fro,
Till, gathering like the ball of snow,
By the time it got to Stratford-le-Bow,
Through Exaggeration's touches,

The Heiress and Hope of the Kilmanseggs
Was propp'd on two fine Golden Legs,

And a pair of Golden Crutches!

[merged small][ocr errors]

'Twas the "go" and the "Kick " thrown into one! The mode—the new thing under the sun,

The rage-the fancy-the passion!
Bonnets were named, and hats were worn,
A la Golden Leg instead of Leghorn,
And stockings and shoes

Of golden hues,

Took the lead in the walks of fashion!

The Golden Leg had a vast career,

It was sung and danced-and to show how near
Low Folly to lofty approaches,

Down to society's very dregs,

The Belles of Wapping wore "Kilmanseggs,"
And St. Giles's Beaux sported Golden Legs
In their pinchbeck pins and brooches!

HER FIRST STEP.

Supposing the Trunk and Limbs of Man
Shared on the allegorical plan,

By the Passions that mark humanity,
Whichever might claim the head, or heart,

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »