Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND, by HORACE SMITH


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: A firm there is, of civic fame
Last Line: And spent their forty pounds at leisure.
Alternate Author Name(s): Smith, Horatio
Subject(s): Diamonds; Money; Police


A FIRM there is, of civic fame,
At all events of notoriety,
(Excuse my mentioning its name,)
Which crams the public to satiety,
With rhyming puffs by shopmen bards,
And huge conspicuous placards,
Slung on the backs of men and boys,
And hobble-de-hoys,
Plying all day their devious courses;
Or stuck on the tall vans that flare
Through every crowded thoroughfare,
To cozen asses and to frighten horses.

This firm's emporium or bazaar,
Near Aldgate pump, is known afar
By catchpenny devices manifold,
By panes of glass worth many guineas,
And all that may attract the ninnies
Who think they're buying cheap, and find they're sold.

Two clowns, one day, before the shop,
In rustic frocks and spatterdashes,
Besmirched with stercoraceous splashes,
Came to a stop;
Not to admire the flash habiliments,
Which a month's wear would turn to filaments;
Not to indulge in talk domestic,
But to decide by imprecations,
And interchange of objurgations,
Some unadjusted feud agrestic,
Their flashing eyes and gestures furious
Soon showed that words, howe'er injurious,
Would not interpret what their rage meant,
So they began a fist engagement;
And, in the very first attack,
One of the rustics, reeling back,
Against the window fell slap dash.
Zooks! what a crash!
'Twas obvious that the largest pane
(If we may speak in Yankee strain)
Was sent to everlasting smash.

Away the first aggressor hurried,
And presently was lost to sight;
Out rushed four shopmen, red and flurried,
Who seized the window-breaking wight,
Aghast and trembling with affright,
Dragged him into their shop or trap, and
Told their master what had happened.
"It cost ten pounds!" the latter roared;
"Ten pounds, and you must pay them down,
Before your liberty's restored.
D' ye hear? hast got the money, clown?"

"Ten pounds!" cried Hodge, in blank dismay;
"Lord love you, I can never pay.
I've got ten shillings and some pence;
('Tis hard to make me such a loser,)
But if they'll cover the offence,
Take 'em and let me go, now do, sir."
"Blockhead! will such a mite atone?
You must make good the whole disaster."
"I've nothing else, sir, of my own;
What more I've got belongs to master."
"So you have money then? how much?"
"Why, sir, he sent me on a job,
To cash a check for fifty pound;
'Tis done, the note is in my fob,
Wrapped in a paper, safe and sound;
But that, you know, I mustn't touch;
You wouldn't bring me to disgrace,
Wi' loss o' character and place;
So don't ye ax me, sir, pray don't;
Touch it I must n't, and I won't."
"Your master, clown, is answerable
For your misdeeds, whate'er they be;
Down with the note upon the table,
And we'll give change and set you free;
If not, prepare to go to prison."
"Dang it!" cried Hodge, with face of woe,
"What can I do, sir, when you know
The money is n't mine, but his'n?"
"Stuff!" quoth the magnate of the shop;
"Quick! quick! let the police be called,
And send him straight to jail." "Stop! stop!"
Ejaculated Hodge, appalled,
And like a leaf of aspen shaking,
Such was his pitiable taking,
"Master, if I am missed, will say
I've robbed him, and have run away.
It can't be helped -- what must be, must."
So saying he fished up the note,
From the deep fob in which 'twas thrust,
And twisted like a papillote,
Secured the change, and then departed,
Half frightened and half broken hearted,
Moaning and muttering, "I fegs!
How shall I ever tell my master
About this terrible disaster?
I'm ruined, sure as eggs is eggs."

Our cits, though chuckling with intense
Enjoyment at the clown's expense,
Had little cause for mirth, if any.
For lo! their banker's clerk appears
Next day, and whispers in their ears,
"This fifty's forged -- not worth a penny!"

Such was the fact -- our firm had lost,
Besides the broken window's cost,
Pounds forty at a single throw:
What had they in return to show
For such subtraction from their till?
A piece of paper, value -- nil!

Meanwhile the fighting clowns, whose roguery
(They were colleagues) the plot had planned,
By which the tradesmen were trepanned,
Changed their smock-frocks for stylish toggery,
To Margate steamed to take their pleasure,
And spent their forty pounds at leisure.





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