"Princess by name and Princess by nature," replied the sergeant; "and now look"ee here, in proof of what I say, I"m going to give you a toast."
"Hear, hear," said everybody.
"But stop a minute," said the sergeant, "I"m not a man of words without deeds. Have we got anything to drink to the toast?"
All looked in their respective cups and every one said, "No, not a drop!"
Then said the sergeant "We"ll have one all rounded for the last. You"ll find me as good as my word. What"s it to be before we part?"
"Can"t beat this "ere," said Joe, looking into the sergeant"s empty gla.s.s.
"So say all of us," exclaimed Harry.
"That"s it," said all.
"And a song from the sergeant," added Devilmecare.
"Ay, lads, I"ll give you a song."
Then came in the pretty maid whom Joe leered at, and the sergeant winked at; and then came in tumblers of the military beverage, and then the sergeant said:
"In all companies this is drunk upstanding, and with hats off, except soldiers, whose privilege it is to keep them on. You need not take yours off, Mr. Wurzel; you are one of Her Majesty"s Hussars. Now then all say after me: "Our gracious Queen; long may she live and blessed be her reign-the mother and friend of her people!""
The enthusiasm was loud and general, and the toast was drunk with as hearty a relish as ever it was at Lord Mayor"s Banquet.
"And now," said the sergeant, "once more before we part-"
"Ah! but the song?" said the Boardman.
"Oh yes, I keep my word. A man, unless he"s a man of his word, ought never to wear Her Majesty"s uniform!" And then he said:
"The Prince and Princess of Wales and the rest of the Royal Family."
This also was responded to in the same unequivocal manner; and then amid calls of "the sergeant," that officer, after getting his voice in tune, sang the following song:
G.o.d BLESS OUR DEAR PRINCESS.
There"s not a grief the heart can bear But love can soothe its pain; There"s not a sorrow or a care It smiles upon in vain.
And _She_ sends forth its brightest rays Where darkest woes depress, Where long wept Suffering silent prays- G.o.d save our dear Princess!
CHORUS.
She soothes the breaking heart, She comforts in distress; She acts true woman"s n.o.blest part.
G.o.d save our dear Princess She bringeth hope to weary lives So worn by hopeless toil; E"en Sorrow"s drooping form revives Beneath her loving smile.
Where helpless Age reluctant seeks Its refuge from distress, E"en there _Her_ name the prayer bespeaks G.o.d save our dear Princess!
It"s not in rank or princely show True _Manhood"s_ heart to win; "Tis Love"s sweet sympathetic glow That makes all hearts akin.
Though frequent storms the State must stir While Freedom we possess, Our hearts may all beat true to Her, Our own beloved Princess.
The violet gives its sweet perfume Unconscious of its worth; So Love unfolds her sacred bloom And hallows sinful earth; May G.o.d her gentle life prolong And all her pathway bless; Be this the nation"s fervent song- G.o.d save our dear Princess!
Although the language of a song may not always be intelligible to the unlettered hearer, the spirit and sentiment are; especially when it appeals to the emotions through the charms of music. The sergeant had a musical voice capable of deep pathos; and as the note of a bird or the cry of an animal in distress is always distinguishable from every other sound, so the pathos of poetry finds its way where its words are not always accurately understood. It was very observable, and much I thought to the sergeant"s great power as a singer, that the first chorus was sung with a tone which seemed to imply that the audience was feeling its way: the second was given with more enthusiasm and vehemence: the third was thumped upon the table as though a drum were required to give full effect to the feelings of the company; while the fourth was shouted with such heartiness that mere singing seemed useless, and it developed into loud hurrahs, repeated again and again; and emphasized by the twirling of hats, the clapping of hands, and stamping of feet.
"What d"ye think o" that?" says the Boardman.
"I"m on," said Lazyman; "give me the shilling, sergeant, if you please?"
"So"m I," said Saunter.
"Hooroar!" shouted the stentorian voice that had erstwhile charmed the audience with Brimstone"s sermon.
"Bravo!" said Harry.
"Look"ee here," said Jack Outofwork, "we"ve had a werry pleasant evenin"
together, and I ain"t goin" to part like this "ere; no more walkin" about looking arter jobs for me, I"m your man, sergeant."
"Well," said the sergeant, eyeing his company, "I didn"t expect this; a pluckier lot o" chaps I never see; and I"m sure when the Queen sees you it"ll be the proudest moment of her life. Why, how tall do you stand, Mr. Lazyman?"
"Six foot one," said he.
"Ha," said the Sergeant, "I thought so. And you, Mr. Outofwork?"
"I don"t rightly know," said Jack.
"Well," said the sergeant, "just stand up by the side of me-ha, that will do," he added, pretending to take an accurate survey, "I think I can squeeze you in-it will be a tight fit though."
"I hope you can, Mr. Sergeant," said he.
"Look "ere," laughed Joe; "We"ll kitch "old of his legs and give him a stretch, won"t us, Sergeant?"
And so the bright shillings were given, and the pretty maid"s services were again called in; and she said "she never see sich a lot o" plucky fellows in her born days;" and all were about to depart when, as the sergeant was shaking hands with d.i.c.k Devilmecare in the most pathetic and friendly manner, as though he were parting from a brother whom he had not met for years, Devilmecare"s eyes filled with tears, and he exclaimed,
"Danged if I"ll be left out of it, sergeant; give me the shillin"?"
At this moment the portly figure of Mr. b.u.mpkin again appeared in the doorway!
CHAPTER XXIII.
The famous Don O"Rapley and Mr. b.u.mpkin spend a social evening at the "Goose."
When Mr. b.u.mpkin, on this memorable evening, went into Mrs. Oldtimes"