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On the Coast of Coromandel Where the early pumpkins blow, In the middle of the woods Lived the Two old chairs, and half a candle, One old jug without a These were all his worldly goods: In the middle of the woods. These were all the worldly goods Of the Of the Once, among the Where the early pumpkins blow, To a little heap of stones Came the There he heard a Lady talking, To some milk-white Hens of " 'Tis the Lady Jingly Jones! On that little heap of stones Sits the Lady Jingly Jones!" Said the Said the "Lady Jingly! Lady Jingly! Sitting where the pumpkins blow. Will you come and be my wife?" Said the "I am tired of living On this coast so wild and I'm If you'll come and be my wife, Quite serene would be my life!" Said the Said the "On this Coast of Coromandel Shrimps and watercresses grow, Prawns are plentiful and cheap," Said the "You shall have my chairs and candle, And my jug without a handle! Gaze upon the rolling deep (Fish is plentiful and cheap): As the sea, my love is deep!" Said the Said the Lady Jingly answered sadly, And her tears began to "Your proposal comes too late, Mr. I would be your wife most gladly!" (Here she twirled her fingers madly,) "But in England I've a mate! Yes! you've asked me far too late. For in England I've a mate. Mr. Mr. "Mr. Jones (his name is Handel Jones, Esquire & Co.) Dorking fowls delights to send, Mr. Keep, oh, keep your chairs and candle, And your jug without a I can merely be your friend! Should my Jones more Dorkings send, I will give you three, my friend! Mr. Mr. "Though you've such a tiny body, And your head so large doth Though your hat may blow away, Mr. Though you're such a Hoddy Doddy, Yet I wish that I could fy the words I needs must say! Will you please to go away? That is all I have to say, Mr. Mr. Down the slippery slopes of Myrtle, Where the early pumpkins blow, To the calm and silent sea Fled the There, beyond the Bay of Gurtle, Lay a large and lively Turtle. "You're the Cove," he said, "for me; On your back beyond the sea, Turtle, you shall carry me!" Said the Said the Through the silent roaring ocean Did the Turtle swiftly go; Holding fast upon his shell Rode the With a sad primæval motion Toward the sunset isles of Boshen Still the Turtle bore him well. Holding fast upon his shell, "Lady Jingly Jones, farewell!" Sang the Sang the From the Coast of Coromandel Did that Lady never go. On that heap of stones she mourns For the On that Coast of Coromandel In his jug without a handle Still she weeps, and daily moans; On the little heap of stones To her Dorking Hens she moans. For the For the |