151111.fb2 Pearl - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 29

Pearl - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 29

UP THE CHIMNEY.

When Captain Jones of Halifax,

Was put in winter quarters,

His landlady, a widow, had

The prettiest of daughters.

The Captain sued her lovingly,

The girl was gay and ready

To join her lot with his and be

The noble Captain's lady.

Their wedding was deferred; — but soon,

Impatient for the pleasure,

He found his way into her room,

And swiv'd her at his leisure.

The chambermaid, who set to rights

The different pots and pans,

Warn'd mistress there was ne'er a drop

In that of this young man's.

The mother asked him tenderly,

"As you're to wed my daughter,

Pray tell me why — my dear young man,

Why — why — you make no water?"

"Ah, Madam!" cried he, "cannot you

The real reason guess?

The fact is that I go to bed,

So full of tenderness.

I get eager for the bliss,

I feel so stiff and hot,

That really I'm obliged to piss

Right up the Chimney Pot."

In the wars in India, in the year 1800, Major Torrens's party was pursuing some of the enemy. One day, while they were dining and very merry, a sergeant came and reported to the Major that two prisoners were brought in, one old and one young. The Sergeant requested orders regarding them. The Major merrily answered: "Oh, take them away and frig them." The Sergeant retired. In an hour he returned, and respectfully made this report: "Please your honour, we have frigged the young one, but we can't make the old man's cock stand."

This story was related to me, in 1818, by Torrens, who was then an old General at Madras.

NURSERY RHYMES.

There was a young lady of Harrow,

Who complained that her Cunt was too narrow,

For times without number

She would use a cucumber,

But could not accomplish a marrow.

There was a young lady of Glasgow,

And fondly her lover did ask, "Oh,

Pray allow me a fuck,"

But she said, "No, my duck,

But you may, if you please, up my arse go."

There was a young man had the art

Of making a capital tart,

With a handful of shit,

Some snot and a spit,

And he'd flavor the whole with a fart.

There was an old man of Connaught.

Whose prick was remarkably short,

When he got into bed

The old woman said,