CHAPTER XIII.
“Twenty Thousand; or, Tom Truelove’s Journal”—“London and the Lottery”—“The Persian Ambassador”—“An Enigma”—“Gently over the Stones.”
“TWENTY THOUSAND;
or, Tom Truelove’s Journal.
’Twas
past meridian, half-past four,
Good Luck, I thought I’d try to nick it,
At six, up Cornhill channel wore,
And bought of Bish a Lott’ry Ticket;
At seven, home with my ticket sped,
At eight, in air built many a house, and
At nine I supp’d and went to bed,
And dreamt at ten of Twenty Thousand.
'Rose six a.m. with hope agog,
In hopes of having pretty pickings,
O’erhaul’d, at seven, Fortune’s log,
And counted, tho’ not hatch’d, my chickens.
At eight, absorb’d by Fancy’s power,
For breakfast scarcely cared a sous, and
At nine, heard Church clock strike the hour
I hop’d would bring me Twenty Thousand.
At ten, I went to Coopers Hall,
To see them draw the Blanks and Prizes,
Eleven, my number heard ’em call—
Here, in my bosom transport rises.
The Hall, I, ere meridian, left,
(Your expectation I arouse, and
Will satisfy) of care bereft,
I found my chance was Twenty Thousand.
At one, I sought the gen’rous lass,
Who long for me and love had tarried,
And told her what had come to pass;
At two, we settled to be married;
At three, we bought the wedding-ring,
At four, resolved to take a house, and
Till five, did nought but dance and sing,
For joy of getting Twenty Thousand.
At six, saw Bish, my prize he paid,
In gold, with such polite behaviour,
It seem’d—tho’ he’d my fortune made,
As if I’d done him some great favour
At seven, with cargo, sail I set,
(My thoughts in Hope’s delights carouse) and
At eight again my girl I met,
And, in her lap, threw Twenty Thousand.
Next morn, at nine (the licence bought),
I rigg’d, and in my house I waited;
At ten, in consort Church we sought,
And, at eleven, we were mated.
And I, while rapture fill’d each sense,
At twelve saluted Polly’s bows, and
With grateful heart thank’d Providence,
Who gave me her, and Twenty Thousand.”
Here is another of Bish’s Handbills for 1810:—
“LONDON AND THE LOTTERY.
By a Rarity Hunter.
O! London’s a wonderful city,
In wonderful wonders abounding,
Some astonishment raise, and some pity,
And all faculties some are confounding;
For instance, there’s Westminster Hall,
Where at puzzle-cap pleaders play well, sir;
Black white and white black often call,
By the rule of the oyster and shell, sir.
Rum ti iddity, etc.
Guildhall, too, with wonder one treads,
Where the two wooden giants stand guard, sir
And besides theirs, enough wooden heads
You’ll find, if you search every Ward, sir;
These giants are guards of the clock,
And you’ll own that’s a time-serving station;
But each sticks to his place like a stock,
As all time servers do in the nation.
Rum ti iddity, etc.
At the new Auction Mart you next stare,
Which, a fine place we’re bid to consider;
Like political consciences, where
All things are knock’d down to best bidder;
The fam’d Stock Exchange then you view,
Where there’s plenty of bother and bubble,
And ’twere well if Stock Jobbers, a few,
Were set in the Stocks for their trouble.
Rum ti iddity, etc.
The Bank your attention receives,
Where Fortune holds court for her minions;
And Bank Notes, like fam’d Sybilline Leaves,
Faith makes current for “golden opinions.”
The Parliament House awe creates,
That guard ’gainst the strong of the weaker;
Where they hold ev’ry day long Debates,
Which is odd, as they have but one Speaker.
Rum ti iddity, etc.
There’s St. Paul’s, too, and Westminster Abbey,
To the curious to see ’em a feast ’tis;
There’s the Monument, crazy and shabby,
And the Tower where they show the wild Beastes.
The British Museum Fame sings,
All rarities there they receive ’em;
And they tell you such wonderful things!
And you, if you like, may believe ’em.
Rum ti iddity, etc.
There’s one Cooper’s Hall I forgot,
Where the Lott’ry they draw every year, sir;
And the 8th of next June, on that spot,
They’ll draw it again, as I hear, sir;
And then there’s a house on Cornhill,
Where a man they call Bish advertises,
That he there, or at Charing Cross will
Sell most of the Capital Prizes.
Rum ti iddity, etc.”
To show how keenly Bish looked after anything on which he could hang an advertisement, read the following, which must have been written before June 8, 1810, as that date is given on the back of the handbill, as the drawing of the lottery. No doubt the coming of an ambassador from Persia created almost as great a sensation as that of the Shah in June, 1873, and his Excellency Mirza Abdul Hassan, envoy extraordinary from the Shah of Persia to the Court of Great Britain, reached these shores on November 30, 1809, had an audience of George III., and presented his credentials on December 20. Sir Gore Ouseley, the celebrated Persian scholar, attended on him during his stay in this country.
“The Persian Ambassador.
By the Town Crier.
Tune—“The Frog in an Opera Hat.”
The Persian Ambassador’s come to town;
Heigho! says Boney;
He’s a person of rank and renown,
Says in Persia they’ll knock all French politics down,
With their Parlez vous, Voulez vous, gammon and spinach too;
Heigho! says Emperor Boney.
To see the Ambassador all the folks run,
Heigho! says Boney;
'He has sixty-three children,’ says Boney, 'well done!
What a devil of a fellow! while I haven’t one!
With my Parlez vous, Voulez vous, Josephine and others too,’
Heigho! says Emperor Boney.
Till presented he’d been he could not go about;
Heigho! says Boney.
So he went to the Court, while the folks made a rout,
And being presented, had leave to go out,
With a Parlez vous, Voulez vous, Johnny Bull, how d’ye do?
Heigho! says Emperor Boney.
To the Op’ra the Persian Ambassador went;
Heigho! says Boney;
He said, to go often it was his intent,
For he liked it so much, he scarce knew what it meant,
With his Parlez vous, Voulez vous, Naldi and Vestris too,
Heigho! says Emperor Boney.
To the Play-house the Persian Ambassador hied;
Heigho! says Boney;
At the sorrows of Lear he sobb’d and he sigh’d,
And then at the Pantomime laughed till he cried,
With their Parlez vous, Voulez vous, Joey Grimaldi too,
Heigho! says Emperor Boney.
With the East India Company next he din’d;
Heigho! says Boney;
To shew him all honour their Worships designed,
So some walked before him, and others behind,
With their Parlez vous, Voulez vous, tit-bits and turtle too,
Heigho! says Emperor Boney.
At the Bank he found Specie was scarce in the place;
Ho! ho! says Boney;
But they shew’d him a vast many 'Notes on the case,’
By that learned Annotator on Cash, Henry Hase,
With his Parlez vous, Voulez vous, Water Mark Promise too,
Heigho! says Emperor Boney.
To what place next will his Excellence hie?
Heigho! says Boney;
Perhaps, if he means his good fortune to try,
To Bish’s, a Lottery Ticket to buy,
With his Parlez vous, Voulez vous, good lucky Number too,
Heigho! says Emperor Boney.
If a Prize the Ambassador chances to bank,
Heigho! says Boney;
And no doubt Mr. Bish, to a man of his rank,
Wouldn’t so impolite be as to sell him a blank:
With his Parlez vous, Voulez vous, Capital prizes too,
Heigho! says Emperor Boney.
If a best Prize he gets, in A, B, C, or D,
Heigho! says Boney;
Won’t matter, no doubt quite contented he’ll be,
And at going, say, 'Johnny Bull, thank ye for me,’
With a Parlez vous, Voulez vous, 'Bish, I’ll remember you,’
Heigho! says Emperor Boney.”
An ENIGMA.
To one-fourth of a passion which governs mankind
Add a circle, and part of my meaning you’ll find;
To these let one-fourth of the killer of kings,
The subverter of empires, and all human things,
Be united; and then if two-thirds of a drink
Used in Europe and China, is added, I think
The best part of the puzzle you’ll guess very well.
One-third of a West Indian spirit then tell;
And if, to all these, the last letter but one
In the Alphabet’s added, the puzzle is done.
If you place all these rightly, the means will be clear,
How an income to gain of five thousand a year.
Explanation.
Soft Love is the passion which governs mankind,
And an L is the fourth of that word you will find.
The circle’s an O; and the killer of kings,
The subverter of empires and all human things,
Is Time; now the fourth of this word is a T;
And the drink used in Europe and China is Tea,
Two-thirds of which word are explain’d by TE.
The West Indian spirit is Rum, I declare,
One-third of which word by an R is made clear:
And, as the last letter but one is a Y.
The whole put together will form Lottery.
Now Five Twenty Thousands the Scheme doth contain,
And the whole of these Prizes five Tickets may gain,
If bought of one number: and thus, it is clear,
That an income you’ll gain of five thousand a year.
“Gently over the Stones.”
The Ancients used to mark all lucky Days with a White Stone; now Blackstone was a Judge, and could tell you that Blue Stone is not half so corrosive as poverty, which brings a man’s nose to the Grindstone, while Riches make his Happiness durable as Free Stone. Now, under this heap of Stones a Truth is hidden, which will be powerfully elucidated on the 8th of June, the near approach of which should be a Whetstone to all who intend purchasing a lucky Number, which, as the Scheme proves, may produce Mill-Stones in Gold, Precious Stones in Jewels; and, in short, holds out so many astonishing advantages, that no Stone should be left unturned to procure a Share of them.