THE SAILOR AND HIS TRUE LOVE.--
As a sailor and his true love were walking out last night, in the Third Municipality, where love imparts delight, the stars were shining merrily from their azure homes on high, and the moon looked down in silver sheen as the empress of the sky. Down the far West, the silv'ry queen began to slope away, 'twas past night's noon, and roosters crowed about the birth of day.
The sailor had been drinking, and his true love had been too, and neither knew they where to go, nor knew they what to do. So down they sat on the green sward, as well they could and might, and loud they roared in harmony a song about a sprite; and then a watchman came along and bade them both to cease, disturbing the State's dignity, its quiet and its peace.
But Jack and Joan with louder tone, swore out that not a white, would they for love, or force, or arms, their merry chantings quite: his rattle then the watchman spring, and bounding to his call, five stern protectors of the night from coffeehouse and hall, rushed like a fearful stream on Jack, but, valiant to the last, the sailor called on Joan to nail their colors to the mast.
On green "Elysian Fields" they fought, the watchmen, Jack and Jean, nor did they yield till streams of blood from noses twain had shown, that neither Jack nor Joan would e'er to slight advantage yield, nor bloodless would they render up the spoils of battlefield.
But ah! blood flowed, and then in haste subdued they had to speed, to the watchhouse where indurance vile twas theirs to muse and bleed, till nine o'clock htis morning, when tis not too much to say, that his Honor will advise them both to jog along their way.
(N.O. Delta)
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