So he went singing and dancing, and skipping and leaping, out of the house and away. As for Georgie Griggs and his dame, they never heard a squeak from him afterwards.
Thus it was that Farmer Griggs got rid of his boggart. All I can say is, that if I could get rid of mine as easily (for I have one in my own house), I would make him a suit of clothes of the finest silks and satins, and would hang a bell of pure silver on the point of his cap. But, alackaday! there are no more wise men left to us, like good Father Grimes, to tell one an easy way to get rid of one’s boggart.
[Illustration: The Boggart Rejoices]
[Illustration: YE STORY OF A BLUE CHINA PLATE. This illustrated page depicts the father seeing the man sing to his daughter, the father chasing them with a whip, and then the two flying away from his as birds.]
YE STORY OF A BLUE CHINA PLATE.
There was a Cochin Chinaman,
Whose name it was Ah-Lee
And the same was just as fine a man
As you could wish to see,
For he was rich and strong,
And his queue was extra long,
And he lived on rice and fish and chiccory.
Which he had a lovely daughter,
And her name was Mai-Ri-An,
And the youthful Wang who sought her
Hand was but a poor young man;
So her haughty father said,
“You shall never, never wed
Such a pauper as this penniless young man!”
So the daughter and her lover,
They eloped one summer day,
Which Ah-Lee he did discover,
And pursued without delay;
But the Goddess Loo, I’ve heard,
Changed each lover to a bird,
And from the bad Ah-Lee they flew away.
Ah me! Ah-Lee; the chance is,
That we all of us may know
Of unpleasant circumstances
We would like to stay, but oh!
The inevitable things
Will take unto them wings,
And will fly where we may never hope to go.
I would further like to state,
That the tale which I relate,
You can see on any plate
That was made in Cochin China years ago.
[Illustration: Moral Blindness. This illustrated poem depicts the two woman fighting, people plugging their ears near the goose, and running away from the goat.]
There was an old woman, as I’ve heard say,
Who owned but a single goose.
And the dame lived over toward Truxton way,
And the animal ran at loose.
It cackled up and it cackled down,
Disturbing the peace of all the town:
Gentle and simple, knight and clown,
From the dawn to the close of the day.
Another old woman, of not much note,
Lived over toward Truxton way,
Who owned a goat with a shaggy black coat,
As I’ve heard the neighbours say.
And it was the fear of one and all;
Butting the great, butting the small,—
No matter whom,—who happened to fall
In the way of this evil goat.