<h2><SPAN name="page44"></SPAN><span class="pagenum"></span>THE BISHOP AND THE ’BUSMAN</h2>
<p class="poetry"><span class="smcap">It</span> was a Bishop
bold,<br/>
And London was his see,<br/>
He was short and stout and round about<br/>
And zealous as could be.</p>
<p class="poetry">It also was a Jew,<br/>
Who drove a Putney ’bus—<br/>
For flesh of swine however fine<br/>
He did not care a cuss.</p>
<p class="poetry">His name was <span class="smcap">Hash Baz
Ben</span>,<br/>
And <span class="smcap">Jedediah</span> too,<br/>
And <span class="smcap">Solomon</span> and <span class="smcap">Zabulon</span>—<br/>
This ’bus-directing Jew.</p>
<p class="poetry">The Bishop said, said he,<br/>
“I’ll see what I can do<br/>
To Christianise and make you wise,<br/>
You poor benighted Jew.”</p>
<p class="poetry">So every blessed day<br/>
That ’bus he rode outside,<br/>
From Fulham town, both up and down,<br/>
And loudly thus he cried:</p>
<p class="poetry">“His name is <span class="smcap">Hash Baz
Ben</span>,<br/>
And <span class="smcap">Jedediah</span> too,<br/>
And <span class="smcap">Solomon</span> and <span class="smcap">Zabulon</span>—<br/>
This ’bus-directing Jew.”</p>
<p class="poetry">At first the ’busman smiled,<br/>
And rather liked the fun—<br/>
He merely smiled, that Hebrew child,<br/>
And said, “Eccentric one!”</p>
<p class="poetry">And gay young dogs would wait<br/>
To see the ’bus go by<br/>
(These gay young dogs, in striking togs),<br/>
To hear the Bishop cry:</p>
<p class="poetry">“Observe his grisly beard,<br/>
His race it clearly shows,<br/>
He sticks no fork in ham or pork—<br/>
Observe, my friends, his nose.</p>
<p class="poetry">“His name is <span class="smcap">Hash Baz
Ben</span>,<br/>
And <span class="smcap">Jedediah</span> too,<br/>
And <span class="smcap">Solomon</span> and <span class="smcap">Zabulon</span>—<br/>
This ’bus-directing Jew.”</p>
<p class="poetry">But though at first amused,<br/>
Yet after seven years,<br/>
This Hebrew child got rather riled,<br/>
And melted into tears.</p>
<p class="poetry">He really almost feared<br/>
To leave his poor abode,<br/>
His nose, and name, and beard became<br/>
A byword on that road.</p>
<p class="poetry">At length he swore an oath,<br/>
The reason he would know—<br/>
“I’ll call and see why ever he<br/>
Does persecute me so!”</p>
<p class="poetry">The good old Bishop sat<br/>
On his ancestral chair,<br/>
The ’busman came, sent up his name,<br/>
And laid his grievance bare.</p>
<p class="poetry">“Benighted Jew,” he said<br/>
(The good old Bishop did),<br/>
“Be Christian, you, instead of Jew—<br/>
Become a Christian kid!</p>
<p class="poetry">“I’ll ne’er annoy you
more.”<br/>
“Indeed?” replied the Jew;<br/>
“Shall I be freed?” “You will,
indeed!”<br/>
Then “Done!” said he, “with
you!”</p>
<p class="poetry">The organ which, in man,<br/>
Between the eyebrows grows,<br/>
Fell from his face, and in its place<br/>
He found a Christian nose.</p>
<p class="poetry">His tangled Hebrew beard,<br/>
Which to his waist came down,<br/>
Was now a pair of whiskers fair—<br/>
His name <span class="smcap">Adolphus
Brown</span>!</p>
<p class="poetry">He wedded in a year<br/>
That prelate’s daughter <span class="smcap">Jane</span>,<br/>
He’s grown quite fair—has auburn hair—<br/>
His wife is far from plain.</p>
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