While The Billy BoilsSearchThe rum was rich and rare:There were wagers in the air:The atmosphere was rosy, and the tongues were wagging free;But one was in the revelWhose occiput was level—Plain Josephus Riley, from the North Countree!
The conversation's flowWas not devoid of blow,And neither was it wanting in the mild, colloquial D.With a most ingenuous smile,'This here is not my style,'Said plain Josephus Riley, from the North Countree.
'And I wouldn't be averseTo emptying my purse,And laying some small wager with the present companee:To cut the matter short,Foot-racing is my forte,'Said plain Josephus Riley, from the North Countree.
'I think it's on the cardsI can run three hundred yards(The match to be decided where you gentlemen agree)Against your fleetest horse:The race would prove a sourceOf pleasure,' said Josephus, from the North Countree.
'To equalise the task,This little start I ask:The rider, ere he follows, must imbibe a cup of tea—A simple breakfast-cupHe will have to swallow up.That's me!—Josephus Riley, from the North Countree.'
Then a knowing 'un looked wise—Begged to apologise;But might he ask what temp'rature the liquid was to be?Would it come from out the potMilkless, steaming, boiling hot?'Oh, not at all!' said Riley, from the North Countree.
'Allow me to explain: I do observe with painThis jocular reflection on my native honestee.My bump of truth is huge:I'd scorn a subterfuge,'Said plain Josephus Riley, from the North Countree.
'Before the parties startI'll take the Judge apartTo prove, by tasting, whether I have tampered with the tea;And I beg to state againYour suspicions give me pain,'Said plain Josephus Riley, from the North Countree.
Then they all were satisfiedThat the match was 'boneefied':The bond was signed, and Riley went to 'preparate' the tea;But his slow, ambiguous smileWould have seemed to token guileIn any man but Riley, from the North Countree.
He brought the fatal cupBy its saucer covered up:The Judge examined its contents with awful gravitee;Then read the papers o'er,But could not find a flaw:'Wade in, Josephus Riley, from the North Countree!'
Then the wagerer just bowed,And, passing through the crowd,He handed up the beverage unto the wageree;And off across the flat,Springing gaily, pit-a-pat,Went plain Josephus Riley, from the North Countree.
But behind him what a yellOf execration fellFrom lips that lent themselves to shapes of great profanitee!For the people of that townWere done a lovely brownBy plain Josephus Riley, from the North Countree.
And here's the reason why:The tea was simply DRY!You might eat it, but to drink it was impossibilitee;Yet, curious to state,Men did not appreciateThis hum'rous innovation from the North Countree.
You'll understand, of course,That wager was a sourceOf very little profit to the hapless wageree;And, dating from that day,I much regret to sayMen look askance at Riley, from the North Countree.