. The choice works of Thomas Hood, in prose and verse. three ? XIV. For tho you are of lofty race, And Im a low-born elf;Yet none among your friends could say^ You matchd beneath yourself. XV. Said she, Such insolence as thisCan be no common case ; Tho you are in my service, sir,Your love is out of place. XVI. O Lady Wye ! O Lady Wye I Consider what you do ;How can you be so short with me, I am not so with you 1 XVII. Then ringing for her serving-men, They showd him to the door :Said they, You turn out better now. Why didnt you before ? XVIII. They strippd his coat, and gave him kicks For all
. The choice works of Thomas Hood, in prose and verse. three ? XIV. For tho you are of lofty race, And Im a low-born elf;Yet none among your friends could say^ You matchd beneath yourself. XV. Said she, Such insolence as thisCan be no common case ; Tho you are in my service, sir,Your love is out of place. XVI. O Lady Wye ! O Lady Wye I Consider what you do ;How can you be so short with me, I am not so with you 1 XVII. Then ringing for her serving-men, They showd him to the door :Said they, You turn out better now. Why didnt you before ? XVIII. They strippd his coat, and gave him kicks For all his wages due ;And off, instead of green and gold, He went in black and blue. XIX. No family would take him in, Because of this discharge ;So he made up his mind to serve The country all at large. 27a AN Ab^hNTEE. XX. Huzza ! the serjeant cried, and put The money in his hand,And with a shilling cut him off From his paternal land. XXI. For when his regiment went to fight At Saragossa town,A Frenchman thought he lookd too tall And so he cut him down 1. High-born and Low-born. AN ABSENTEE. IF ever a man wanted a flapper—no butchers mimosa, or catch-fly,but one of those officers in use at the court of Laputa—my friend W should have such a remembrancer at his elbow. I question whether even the appliance of a blndder full of peas or pebbles wouldarouse him from some of his abstractions ; fits of mental insensibility,parallel with those bodily trances in which persons have sometimesbeen coffined. Not that he is entangled in abstruse problems, like thenobility of the Flying Island ! He does not dive, like Sir Isaac Newton,into a reverie, and turn up again with a Tlieory of Gravitntiun. Histlioughts nre not deeply engaged elsewhere—they are nowhere. Hishead revolves itself, top-like, into a profound slumber—a blank doze AN ABSENTEE, 373 without a dream. He is not carried away by incoherent ramblingfancies out of himself,—he is not drunk, merely, with the Waters ofObHvion, but
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