Lord William of Purleigh retired for the night
With a mind full of worry and trouble,
Which was caused by an income uncommonly slight,
And expenses uncommonly double.
Now the same sort of thing often happens, to me—
And perhaps to yourself—for most singularlee
One's accounts—if one keeps 'em—will never come right,
If, of "moneys received," one spends double.
His lordship had gone rather early to bed,
And for several hours had been sleeping,
When he suddenly woke—and the hair on his head
Slowly rose—he could hear someone creeping
About in his room, in the dead of the night,
With a lantern, which showed but a glimmer of light,
And his impulse, at first, was to cover his head
When he heard that there burglar a-creeping.
In the house worth a burglar a-taking,
And, being a kind-hearted lord, p'r'aps I ought,
To explain the mistake he's a-making."
Lord William, then still in his woolly night-cap
(For appearances noblemen don't care a rap),
His second-best dressing-gown hastily sought,
And got up without any noise making.
"I'm exceedingly sorry," his lordship began,
"But your visit, I fear, will be fruitless.
I possess neither money, nor jewels, my man,
So your burglaring here will be bootless.
The burglar was startled, but kept a cool head,
And bowed, as his lordship, continuing, said:
"Excuse me a moment. I'll find if I can
My warm slippers, for I too am bootless."
They discoursed of De Wet, and of Tupper.
Then the household his lordship aroused, if you please,
And invited the burglar to supper.
The burglar told tales of his hardly-won wealth,
And each drank to the other one's jolly good health.
There's a charm about informal parties like these,
And it was a most excellent supper.
Then the lord told the burglar how poor he'd become,
And of all which occasioned his lordship distress;
And the burglar—who wasn't hard-hearted like some—
His sympathy ventured thereat to express:
"I've some thoughts in my mind, if I might be so bold
As to mention them, but—no—they mustn't be told.
They are hopes which, perhaps, I might talk of to some,
But which to a lord—no, I dare not express."
What is it, my friend, that you wish to suggest?
Rely upon me. I will do what I can.
Come! Let us see what's to be done for the best."
"I've a daughter," the burglar remarked with a sigh.
"The apple is she, so to speak, of my eye,
And she wishes to marry a lord, if she can—
And of all that I know—why, your lordship's the best.
"I am wealthy," the burglar continued, "you see,
And her fortune will really be ample:
I have given her every advantage, and she
Is a person quite up to your sample."
Lord William, at first, was inclined to look glum,
But, on thinking it over, remarked: "I will come
In the morning, to-morrow, the lady to see
If indeed she is up to the sample."
And he found her both charming and witty;
So he married her, though for a father-in-law
He'd a burglar, which p'r'aps was a pity.
However, she made him an excellent wife,
And the burglar he settled a fortune for life
On the pair. What an excellent father-in-law!
On the whole, p'r'aps, it wasn't a pity.