Miss Kilmansegg and her precious leg; a golden legend (1870) (14785681043)

Identifier: misskilmansegghe00hood (find matches)
Title: Miss Kilmansegg and her precious leg; a golden legend
Year: 1870 (1870s)
Authors: Hood, Thomas, 1799-1845 Seccombe, Thomas Strong, 1840-1899, illus
Subjects:
Publisher: London, E. Moxon, son & co.
Contributing Library: Mugar Memorial Library, Boston University
Digitizing Sponsor: Boston University



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of Oriental make. And the thousand pieces they put in it—But Pastoral scenes on her heart fell cold.For Nature with her had lost its hold,No field but the Field of the Cloth of Gold Would ever have caught her foot in it. What more ? She learnt to sing and dance.To sit on a horse, although he should prance,And to speak a French not spoken in France 34 AND HER PRECIOUS LEG. Any more than at Babels building—And she painted shells, and flowers, and Turks,But her great delight was in Fancy Works That are done with gold or gilding. Gold! still Gold!—the bright and the dead, With golden beads, and gold lace, and gold thread She workd in gold as if for her bread ; The metal had so undermined her,Gold ran in her thoughts and lilld her brain.She was golden headed as Peters cane With which he walkd behind her. 35 MISS KILMANSEGG kt 3ccitrcnt. The horse that carried Miss Kilmansegg,And a better never lifted leg, Was a very rich bay, calld Banker—A horse of a breed and a mettle so rare,—
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By Bullion out of an Ingot mare,—That for action, the best of figures, and air.It made many good judges hanker. 36 AND HER PRECIOUS LEG. And when she took a ride in the Park,Equestrian Lord, or pedestrian Clerk, Was thrown in an amorous fever,To see the Heiress how well she sat,With her groom behind her, Bob or Nat,In green, half smotherd with gold, and a hat With more gold lace than beaver. And then when Banker obtaind a pat.To see how he archd his neck at that! He snorted vvith pride and pleasure !Like the Steed in the fable so lofty and grand.Who gave the poor Ass to understand,That he didnt carry a bag of sand. But a burden of golden treasure. A load of treasure .—alas ! alas ! Had her horse but been fed upon English grass. And shelterd in Yorkshire spinneys,Had he scourd the sand with the Desert Ass, Or where the American whinnies—But a hunter from Erins turf and gorse,A regular thorough-bred Lish horse.Why, he ran away as a matter of course. With a girl worth her weight in