Fifty "Bab" Ballads: Much Sound and Little Sense by Gilbert, W. S. (William Schwenck), Sir, 1836-1911

The disconcerted actor ceased The haughty leech to pester, But when the wound in size increased, And then began to fester, He sought a learned Counsel's lair, And told that Counsel, then and there, How COBB'S neglect of his defect Had made his finger fester.

"Oh, bring my action, if you please, The case I pray you urge on, And win me thumping damages From COBB, that haughty surgeon. He culpably neglected me Although I proffered him his fee, So pray come down, in wig and gown, On COBB, that haughty surgeon!"

That Counsel learned in the laws, With passion almost trembled. He just had gained a mighty cause Before the Peers assembled! Said he, "How dare you have the face To come with Common Jury case To one who wings rhetoric flings Before the Peers assembled?"

Dispirited became our friend - Depressed his moral pecker - "But stay! a thought!--I'll gain my end, And save my poor exchequer. I won't be placed upon the shelf, I'll take it into Court myself, And legal lore display before The Court of the Exchequer."

He found a Baron--one of those Who with our laws supply us - In wig and silken gown and hose, As if at Nisi Prius. But he'd just given, off the reel, A famous judgment on Appeal: It scarce became his heightened fame To sit at Nisi Prius.

Our friend began, with easy wit, That half concealed his terror: "Pooh!" said the Judge, "I only sit In Banco or in Error. Can you suppose, my man, that I'd O'er Nisi Prius Courts preside, Or condescend my time to spend On anything but Error?"

"Too bad," said GIBBS, "my case to shirk! You must be bad innately, To save your skill for mighty work Because it's valued greatly!" But here he woke, with sudden start.

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He wrote to say he'd play the part. I've but to tell he played it well - The author's words--his native wit Combined, achieved a perfect "hit" - The papers praised him greatly.

Ballad: THE TWO MAJORS.

An excellent soldier who's worthy the name Loves officers dashing and strict: When good, he's content with escaping all blame, When naughty, he likes to be licked.

He likes for a fault to be bullied and stormed, Or imprisoned for several days, And hates, for a duty correctly performed, To be slavered with sickening praise.

No officer sickened with praises his corps So little as MAJOR LA GUERRE - No officer swore at his warriors more Than MAJOR MAKREDI PREPERE.

Their soldiers adored them, and every grade Delighted to hear their abuse; Though whenever these officers came on parade They shivered and shook in their shoes.

For, oh! if LA GUERRE could all praises withhold, Why, so could MAKREDI PREPERE, And, oh! if MAKREDI could bluster and scold, Why, so could the mighty LA GUERRE.

"No doubt we deserve it--no mercy we crave - Go on--you're conferring a boon; We would rather be slanged by a warrior brave, Than praised by a wretched poltroon!"

MAKREDI would say that in battle's fierce rage True happiness only was met: Poor MAJOR MAKREDI, though fifty his age, Had never known happiness yet!