a drop in it already, old fellow; and, to speak the truth, I must be getting into the saddle without more delay, for I have a long ride before me. And now, friend Jerry, before I start, suppose you tip us one of your merry staves; we haven't heard your pipe to-day, and never
mac fluidline eyeliner gel a cross cove of us all can throw
mac hello kitty eyeshadow off so prime a chant as yourself. A song! a song!"
"Ay, a song!" reiterated King and the Magus.
"You do me too much honor, gemmen," said Jerry, modestly, taking a pinch of snuff; "I am sure I shall
oakley jawbone sunglasses be most happy. My chants are all of a sort. You must make all due allowances--hem!" And, clearing his throat, he forthwith warbled
THE MODERN GREEK
(Not translated from the Romaic.)
Come, gemmen, name, and make your game,
See, round the ball is spinning.
Black, red, or blue, the colors view,
Une, deux, cinque, 'tis beginning,
Then make your game,
The color name,
While round the ball is spinning.
This sleight of hand my flat shall land
While covered by my bonnet,[104]
I plant my ball, and boldly call,
Come make your game upon it!
Thus rat-a-tat!
I land my flat!
'Tis black--not red--is winning.
At gay roulette was never met
A lance like mine for bleeding!
I'm ne'er at fault, at nothing halt,
All other legs preceding.
To all awake,
I never shake
A mag[105] unless I nip it.
Blind-hookey sees how well I squeeze
The well-packed cards in shuffling.
Ecarte, whist, I never missed,
A nick the broads[106] while ruffling.
Mogul or loo,
The same I do,
I am down to trumps as trippet!
French hazard ta'en, I nick the main,
Was ne'er so prime a caster.
No crabs for me, I'm fly, d'ye see;
The bank shall change its master.
Seven quatre, trois,
The stakes are high!
Ten mains! ten mains are mine, pals!
At Rouge et Noir, you hellite[107] choir
I'll make no bones of stripping;
One glorious coup for me shall do,
While they may deal each pip in.
Trente-un-apres
Ne'er clogs my way;
The game--the game's divine, pals.
At billiards set, I make my bet,
I'll score and win the rub, pals;
I miss my cue, my hazard, too,
But yet my foe I'll drub, pals.
That cannon-twist,
I ne'er had missed,
Unless to suit my views, pals.
To make all right, the match look tight,
This trick, you know, is done, pals;
But now be gay, I'
