But--ye Gods, what a phantom!--I thought I should drop--
There he stood, my dear DOLLY--no room for a doubt--
There, behind the vile counter, these eyes saw him stand,
With a piece of French cambric, before him rolled out,
And that horrid yard-measure upraised in his hand!
Oh!--Papa, all along, knew the secret,' is clear--
'Twas _a shopman_ he meant by a "Brandenburgh," dear!
The man, whom I fondly had fancied a King,
And, when _that_ too delightful illusion was past,
As a hero had worshipt--vile, treacherous thing--
To turn out but a low linen-draper at last!
My head swam around--the wretch smiled, I believe,
But his smiling, alas, could no longer deceive--
I fell back on BOB--my whole heart seemed to wither--
And, pale as a ghost, I was carried back hither!
I only remember that BOB, as I caught him,
With cruel facetiousness said, "Curse the Kiddy!
"A stanch Revolutionist always I've thought him,
"But now I find out he's a _Counter_ one, BIDDY!"
Only think, my dear creature, if this should be known
To that saucy, satirical thing, Miss MALONE!
What a story 'twill be at Shandangan for ever!
What laughs and what quizzing she'll have with the men!
It will spread thro' the country--and never, oh! never
Can BIDDY be seen at Kilrandy again!
Farewell--I shall do something desperate, I fear--
And, ah! if my fate ever reaches your ear,
One tear of compassion my DOLL will not grudge
To her poor--broken-hearted--young friend, BIDDY FUDGE.
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