Oh, weep ye British Sailors true,
Above or under hatches,
Here's Yankee Doodle's been and come,
And beat our crackest yatches!
They started all to run a race,
And wor well timed with watches;
But oh! they never had no chance,
Had any of our yatches.
The Yankee she delayed at first,
Says they, "She'll never catch us,"
And flung up their tarpaulin hats—
The owners of the yatches!
But presently she walked along;
"O dear," says they, "she'll match us!"
And stuck on their tarpaulin hats,
The owners of the yatches!
Then deep we ploughs along the sea
The Yankee scarcely scratches,
And cracks on every stitch of sail
Upon our staggering yatches.
But one by one she passes us
While bitterly we watches,
And utters imprecations on
The builders of our yatches.
And now she's quite hull down a-head,
Her sails like little patches.
For sand barges and colliers we
May sell our boasted yatches.
We faintly hears the Club-house gun—
The silver cup she snatches—
And all the English Clubs are done,
The English Clubs of yatches!
They say she didn't go by wind,
But wheels, and springs, and ratches;
And that's the way she weathered on
Our quickest going yatches.
But them's all lies, I'm bound to say—
Although they're told by batches—
'Twas build of hull, and cut of sail,
That did for all our yatches.
But novelty, I hear them say,
Some novelty still hatches!
The Yankee yatch the keels will lay
Of many new Club yatches.
And then we'll challenge Yankee land,
From Boston Bay to Natchez,
To run their crackest craft agin
Our spick and span new yatches.
MODES OF ADDRESSING PERSONS OF
VARIOUS RANKS.
(BY OUR FAST PROFESSOR.)
_A Duke, or other Titled Person._ "Now, old Strawberry-Leaves;" or, as
the case may be. An _Earl_ carries Five Balls, and a _Baronet_ a Bloody
Hand, which naturally points out the mode of addressing the bearers. A
_Bishop_ is gratified by being addressed as "Old Shirt-Sleeves." If the
ecclesiastic wears spectacles, it is _de rigueur_ to add, facetiously,
that you observe his is not a "See Sharp." An _Archdeacon_ you will, of
course, call "Archy;" and a _Rural Dean_ you will address as "My
Rustic." The _Clergy_, as a body, you will speak of as the "White
Chokers." The _Lay Aristocracy_ are simply styled "The Nobs." Attention
to this rule is requested. An irreverent young reporter (from Ireland)
having recently incautiously asked an official of the House of Lords
"who that Buffer was?" (indicating a nobleman who was speaking,) was
solemnly answered: "Sir, we have no Buffers here; they are all Peers of
the Realm."
_A Police Magistrate._ Before you are fined—"My Lord;" "Your Worship;"
"Your Reverence;" "Your Excellency;" "Your Majesty;" or whatever title
of honour comes readiest to your tongue. After Justice has done her
worst, you will merely allude to your enemy as the "Beak."
_Your Father._ Speaking _to_ him, say, "Guvnor," or "Old
Strike-a-Light;" of him, "The Old 'Un."
_A Tradesman._ Your address in this case will depend upon the state of
accounts between yourself and the party spoken to; but an easy
familiarity should generally be preserved; and it is a good rule, if you
wish to please a tradesman, to call him by a name, or make some
allusion, derived from the trickery of his particular trade. A _Grocer_
you will call "Young Chicory;" or, if a female, "Mrs. Beans." A _Sausage
Vendor's_ shop you will enter playfully imitating the cry of the
itinerant merchant who supplies daily food to the canine and feline
menial. And a _Woollen Draper_ you should salute with, "Well, Devil's
Dust."
_The Waitress at a Restaurateur's, or elsewhere._ "Mary, my love, my
only angel, come here;" "Sarah, my darling, what's good for my
complaint?" "Jane's very sweet upon me, ain't you, Jane?"
_A Box-keeper._ "Here, Pew-opener."
_A Pew-opener._ "Here, Box-keeper."
_All sorts and conditions of Men._ In any manner in which a gentleman
would not address them.