. Whims and oddities : in prose and verse. back of the hand ? Then a school-boy—my tailor was nothing in fault,For an urchin will grow to a lad by degrees,— But how well I remember that pepper and saltThat was down to the elbows, and up to the knees! What a figure it cut when as Norval I spoke ! With a lanky right leg duly planted before;Whilst I told of the chief that was killd by my stroke, And extended my arms as the arms that he wore ! Next a Lover—Oh! say, were you ever in love ? With a lady too cold—and your bosom too hot!Have you bowd to a shoe-tie, and knelt to a glove ? Like a beau th
. Whims and oddities : in prose and verse. back of the hand ? Then a school-boy—my tailor was nothing in fault,For an urchin will grow to a lad by degrees,— But how well I remember that pepper and saltThat was down to the elbows, and up to the knees! What a figure it cut when as Norval I spoke ! With a lanky right leg duly planted before;Whilst I told of the chief that was killd by my stroke, And extended my arms as the arms that he wore ! Next a Lover—Oh! say, were you ever in love ? With a lady too cold—and your bosom too hot!Have you bowd to a shoe-tie, and knelt to a glove ? Like a beau that desired to be tied in a knot ? With the Bride all in white, and your body in blue,Did you walk up the aisle—the genteelest of men ? When I think of that beautiful vision anew,Oh! I seem but the biffin of what I was then! 326 A PARTHIAN GLANCE. I am witherd and worn by a premature care,And my wrinkles confess the decline of my days; Old Times busy hand has made free with my hair,And Im seeking to hide it—by writing for bays!. RETROSPECTIVE REVIEW. 327 A SAILORS APOLOGY FOR BOW-LEGS. Theres some is bom with their straight legs by natur— And some is born with bow-legs from the first— And some that should have growd a good deal straighter, But they were badly nursd,And set, you see, like Bacchus, with their pegs Astride of casks and kegs :Ive got myself a sort of bow to larboard, And this is what it was that warpd my legs.— Twas all along of Poll, as I may say,That fouTd my cable when I ought to slip; But on the tenth of May, When I gets under weigh,Down there in Hartfordshire, to join my ship, I sees the mail Get under sail,The only one there was to make the trip. 328 a sailors apology for bow-legs. Well—I gives chase,But as she runTwo knots to one,There warnt no use in keeping on the race! Well—casting round about, what next to try on, And how to spin,I spies an ensign with a Bloody Lion,And bears away to leeward for the inn, Beats round the
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