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Page 67 - I'd scarce a beard upon my face, And now a grizzled, grim old fogy, I sit and wait for Bouillabaisse. Where are you, old companions trusty Of early days here met to dine? Come, waiter! quick, a flagon crusty I'll pledge them in the good old wine. The kind old voices and old faces, My memory can quick retrace; Around the board they take their places, And share the wine and Bouillabaisse. There's JACK has made a wondrous marriage; There's laughing TOM is laughing yet; There's brave AUGUSTUS drives...
Page 251 - And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered, You heard as if an army muttered; And the muttering grew to a grumbling; And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling; And out of the houses the rats came tumbling. Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats, Brown rats, black rats, grey rats, tawny rats, Grave old plodders, gay young friskers, Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, Cocking tails and pricking whiskers, Families by tens and dozens, Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives — Followed the Piper...
Page 67 - This Bouillabaisse a noble dish is — • A sort of soup, or broth, or brew, Or hotchpotch of all sorts of fishes, That Greenwich never could outdo: Green herbs, red peppers, mussels, saffron, Soles, onions, garlic, roach, and dace: All these you eat at Terre's tavern In that one dish of Bouillabaisse.
Page 67 - When here I'd sit, as now I'm sitting, In this same place — but not alone. A fair young form was nestled near me, A dear dear face looked fondly up, And sweetly spoke and smiled to cheer me — There's no one now to share my cup. I drink it as the Fates ordain it. Come, fill it, and have done with rhymes : Fill up the lonely glass, and drain it In memory of dear old times.
Page 251 - And licked the soup from the cooks' own ladles, Split open the kegs of salted sprats, Made nests inside men's Sunday hats, And even spoiled the women's chats By drowning their speaking With shrieking and squeaking In fifty different sharps and flats. At last the people in a body To the Town Hall came flocking: "Tis clear...
Page 67 - Bouillabaisse. Where are you, old companions trusty Of early days here met to dine ? Come, waiter ! quick, a flagon crusty — I'll pledge them in the good old wine. The kind old voices and old faces My memory can quick retrace ; Around the board they take their places, And share the wine and Bouillabaisse. There's JACK has made a wondrous marriage...
Page 67 - Indeed, a rich and savoury stew 'tis; And true philosophers, methinks, Who love all sorts of natural beauties, Should love good victuals and good drinks. And Cordelier or Benedictine Might gladly, sure, his lot embrace, Nor find a fast-day too afflicting, Which served him up a Bouillabaisse. I wonder if the house still there is? Yes, here the lamp is, as before; The smiling red-cheeked e'caillere...
Page 43 - Brown) is the greatest bore in existence. Life without laughing is a dreary blank. A woman who cannot laugh is a wet blanket on the kindly nuptial couch. A good laugh is sunshine in a house. A quick intelligence, a brightening eye, a kind smile, a cheerful spirit, — these, I hope, Mrs. Bob will bring to you in her trousseau, to be used afterwards for daily wear. Before all things, my dear Nephew, try and have a cheerful wife. What, indeed, does not that word "cheerfulness
Page 67 - It is the lot of saint and sinner, So honest TERRE'S run his race." " What will Monsieur require for dinner ? " " Say, do you still cook Bouillabaisse ? " " Oh, oui, Monsieur," 's the waiter's answer; " Quel vin Monsieur desire-t-il ? " " Tell me a good one."—" That I can, Sir: The Chambertin with yellow seal.
Page 205 - He rushed into the field, and, foremost fighting, fell. Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts...