The
rum was rich and rare, There
were wagers in the air,
The atmosphere was rosy, and the tongues were wagging
free; But
one was in the
revel Whose
occiput was level -
Plain Josephus Riley, from the North Countree.
The
conversation's flow Was
not devoid of “blow,”
And neither was it wanting in the plain, colloquial “D.” With
a most ingenuous smile - "This
here is not my style,"
Said plain Josephus Riley, from the North Countree.
"And
I wouldn't be averse To
emptying my purse,
And laying some small wager with the present companee, To
cut the matter short - Foot
racing is my forte,"
Said plain Josephus Riley, from the North Countree.
“I
think it's on the cards That
I can run three hundred yards
(The match to be decided where you gentlemen agree) Against
your fleetest horse; The
race would prove a source
Of pleasure," said Josephus, from the North Countree.
"To
equalise the task, This
little start I ask -
The rider, ere he follows, must imbibe a cup of tea; A
simple breakfast-cup He
will have to swallow up.
That's me -
Josephus Riley, from the North Countree."
Then
a “knowing 'un” looked wise, “Begged
to apologise;
But might he ask what temp'rature the liquid was to
be! Would
it come from out the pot Milkless,
steaming, boiling-hot?”
"Oh, not at all," said Riley, from the North Countree.
"Allow
me to explain; I
do observe with pain,
This jocular reflection on my native honestee, My
bump of truth is huge, I'd
scorn a subterfuge" -
Said plain Josephus Riley, from the North Countree.
“Before
the parties start I'll
take the Judge apart
To prove, by tasting, whether I have tampered with the
tea; And
I beg to state again Your
suspicions give me pain,"
Said plain Josephus Riley, from the North Countree.
Then
they were all satisfied That
the match was "boneefied,"
The bond was signed, and Riley went to "preparate” the
tea; But
his slow, ambiguous smile Would
have seemed to token guile
In any man but Riley, from the North Countree.
He
brought the fatal cup - By
its saucer covered up -
The Judge examined its contents with awful gravitee, Then
read the papers o'er, But
could not find a flaw:
"Wade in! Josephus Riley, from the North Countree."
Then
the “wagerer” just bowed, And,
passing through the crowd,
He handed up the beverage unto the “wageree;” And
off across the flat, Springing
gaily, pit-a-pat,
Went plain Josephus Riley, from the North Countree.
But
behind him what a yell Of
execration fell
From lips that lent themselves to shapes of great profanitee! For
the people of that town Were
done a lovely brown
By plain Josephus Riley, from the North Countree.
And
here's the reason why: The
tea was simply DRY,
You might eat
it, but to drink
it was impossibilitee; But,
curious to state, Men
did not appreciate
This hum'rous innovation from the North Countree.
You'll
understand, of course, That
wager was a source
Of very little profit to the hapless “wageree,” And,
dating from that day, I
much regret to say,
Men look askance at Riley, from the North Countree.
