“Observe his grisly beard,
His race it clearly shows,
He sticks no fork in ham or pork:—
Observe, my friends, his nose.
“His name is Hash Baz Ben,
And Jedediah too,
And Solomon and Zabulon—
This bus-directing Jew.”
But though at first amused,
Yet after seven years,
This Hebrew child got awful riled,
And busted into tears.
He really almost feared
To leave his poor abode,
His nose, and name, and beard became
A byword on that road.
At length he swore an oath,
The reason he would know—
“I’ll call and see why ever he
Does persecute me so.”
The good old bishop sat
On his ancestral chair,
The busman came, sent up his name,
And laid his grievance bare.
“Benighted Jew,” he said,
(And chuckled loud with joy)
“Be Christian you, instead of Jew—
Become a Christian boy.
“I’ll ne’er annoy you
“Indeed?” replied the Jew.
“Shall I be freed?” “You will, indeed!”
Then “Done!” said he, “with you!”
The organ which, in man,
Between the eyebrows grows,
Fell from his face, and in its place,
He found a Christian nose.
His tangled Hebrew beard,
Which to his waist came down,
Was now a pair of whiskers fair—
His name, Adolphus Brown.
He wedded in a year,
That prelate’s daughter Jane;
He’s grown quite fair—has auburn hair—
His wife is far from plain.
THE FOLLY OF BROWN.
BY A GENERAL AGENT.
I knew a boor—a clownish card,
(His only friends were pigs and cows and
The poultry of a small farmyard)
Who came into two hundred thousand.
Good fortune worked no change in Brown,
Though she’s a mighty social chymist:
He was a clown—and by a clown
I do not mean a pantomimist.
It left him quiet, calm, and cool,
Though hardly knowing what a crown was—
You can’t imagine what a fool
Poor rich, uneducated Brown was!
He scouted all who wished to come
And give him monetary schooling;
And I propose to give you some
Idea of his insensate fooling.
I formed a company or two—
(Of course I don’t know what the rest meant,
I formed them solely with a view
To help him to a sound investment).
Their objects were—their only
To justify their Boards in showing
A handsome dividend on shares,
And keep their good promoter going.
But no—the lout prefers his
Though shares at par I freely proffer:
Yes—will it be believed?—the ass
Declines, with thanks, my well-meant offer!
He added, with a bumpkin’s grin,
(A weakly intellect denoting)
He’d rather not invest it in
A company of my promoting!