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POEMS OF THE CRADLE.
CANTO IX.
Rub-a-dub, dub,
Three men in a tub,
The Butcher, the Baker, the Candlestick-Maker,
They all jumped into a rotten potato.
Behold the gentle Poet, now in the midst of the tumult of war. How
calmly he surveys from his elevated position the situation of the hosts
and the signs of the times. He hears the drums beat and the bugle call
to arms, and his soul is filled with martial ardor. Unable to wield the
sword, he seizes his poetical pen, resolved to become the Chronicler and
Historian of the war, and thus add his little mite for the improvement
of future generations. He decided that it must be characteristic, and in
keeping in style with his other productions: short, pithy, and
comprehensive; simple and amusing enough for a child; deep and sarcastic
enough for the most astute mind.
He begins by describing in graphic style the sounds that first struck on
his ear and fired his manly soul--the beat of the rolling drum. Then
comes a description of the terrible conflict that occurred in his native
village, between the three most prominent men of the day. This, not to
be too verbose, he simply likens to being "in a tub."
BILLY the butcher, stout, red-faced, and pugilistic, with his particular
friend MARC the baker, having become jealous of the beautiful shop and
immense patronage of JOHNNY the candlestick-maker, resolve to put an end
to it in some way, even if they have to fight him.
That showy candlestick shop, with its gay trimmings and beautiful
ornaments, open every day before their face and eyes, and attracting
crowds of idlers who stand gazing in at the windows, or lounging around
the doors, is a little too much for the Butcher, who in vain displays
before his door the fresh-cut meat and the tempting sausage. True, he
has plenty of customers; but they come because they need what he has to
sell; they come of necessity, not for pleasure. The Baker experiences
the same vexation, as he sees his loaves passed by and mockingly made
light of.
They bear awhile in silent envy the annoying sight of the rollicking
crowd and the joyful JOHNNY with his troop of apprentices, who have all
they can possibly do to attend to their numerous customers, and who
receive their broad pieces of money with a careless ease that makes the
fingers of the lookers-on tingle.
At last human nature can stand it no longer. The two malicious
storeke
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