Coes)

At length the truth he fathoms out and feels his courage rise.
‘To save you from this wretch’s power, Pll take him by surprise.
Now try if it be possible for each to hold her tongue,
For should he hear, there is a fear that I should be bow-strung.’
He’s scarcely gone when lo, a noise they can’t at first define,
Tis Bluebeard butting ’gainst the door the worse from too much wine.
The door it yields—the females scream, and there are many crashes :
The wretch is so impetuous that half his wives he smashes.
Of course I mean each glassy case—there’s scarcely one now left intact ;
The greater part are smithereens, the rest severely cracked.
A stream of extract floods the floor (the essences of beauty).
His loss enrages Bluebeard more, he now will do his duty.
His wife he seizes by the hair ; with fear she nearly died ;
Her chignon left within his grasp, he feels like one defied,
And raises up his sword to slay, but one is on his track.
Young Abousqueers, the dauntless, has pierced him through the back!
He turns in bitter anguish, but ’tis too late to fly ;
So, finding all is over, he lays him down to die.
* * * * *
His widow soon got married unto a nice young man ;
But still in single-blessedness resides her sister Ann.

<< —___

flicksy, Dicksy, Dawsy !

ICKSY, Dicksy, Daisy!
Surely the girl’s gone crazy,
Her best togs to be sporting,
As if she were a-courting !

Ah! there’s that soldier feller,
A waiting for our Bella ;

One who, like very many,

Is scarcely worth a penny.