th at different periods, and have been
careful to preserve his pronunciation, together with the air to which he
does so much justice. Of his execution of it, however, and the intense
melancholy which he communicates to such passages of the song as are most
susceptible of such an expression, I am unfortunately unable to convey to
the reader an adequate idea, though I may hint that the effect seems to me
to be in part produced by the long and mournful drawl on the last two or
three words of each verse.

I had intended to have dedicated my imperfect illustrations of this
beautiful Romance to the young gentleman in question. As I cannot find,
however, that he is known among his friends by any other name than
"The Tripe-skewer," which I cannot but consider as a _soubriquet_, or
nick-name; and as I feel that it would be neither respectful nor proper
to address him publicly by that title, I have been compelled to forego the
pleasure. If this should meet his eye, will he pardon my humble attempt to
embellish with the pencil the sweet ideas to which he gives such feeling
utterance? And will he believe me to remain his devoted admirer,

GEORGE CRUIKSHANK?

P.S.--The above is not my writing, nor the notes either, nor am I on
familiar terms (but quite the contrary) with the Black Bear. Nevertheless
I admit the accuracy of the statement relative to the public singer whose
name is unknown, and concur generally in the sentiments above expressed
relative to him.

[Illustration: (signature: George Cruikshank)]

[Illustration: Musical Score]

The Loving Ballad Of Lord Bateman.

I.

Lord Bateman vos a noble Lord,
A noble Lord of high degree;
He shipped his-self all aboard of a ship,
Some foreign country for to see.[1]

For the notes to this beautiful Poem, see the end of the work.

[Illustration: Lord Bateman as he appeared previous to his embarkation.]

[Illustration: The Turk's only daughter approaches to mitigate the
sufferings of Lord Bateman!--]

II.

He sail-ed east, he sail-ed vest,
Until he come to famed Tur-key,
Vere he vos taken, and put to prisin,
Until his life was quite wea-ry.

III.

All in this prisin there grew a tree,
O! there it grew so stout and strong,
Vere he vos chain-ed all by the middle
Until his life vos almost gone.

[Illustration: The Turk's daughter expresses a wish as Lord Bat