Rhyming Stories
Presents

Madam Fig's Gala

Johnny Fig was a green and white grocer,
In business as brisk as an eel, sir;
None than John to the shop could stick closer,
Which Madam Fig thought ungenteel, sir.
Sing turnips, and carrots, and greens,
Sing candles, red herrings, and tea.
Of all the gay parties, I’ve seen,
’Tis Madam Fig’s Gala for me.

Her neighbors resolved to cut out,
And astonish the rustic parishioners,
She invited them all to a rout,
And asked all the village musicioners.
Sing turnips, and carrots, and greens,
Sing candles, red herrings, and tea,
Of all the gay parties I’ve seen,
’Tis Madam Fig’s Gala for me.

The company met gay as larks, sir,
Dressed out like blown roses and pinks;
And each buxom lass and gay spark, sir,
Had plenty of spirits to drink.
Sing turnips, and carrots, and greens,
Sing candles, red herrings, and tea.
Of all the gay parties I’ve seen,
’Tis Madam Fig’s Gala for me.

The Barber sung, ‘Gallery of Wigs,’ sir,
The gemmen all said: ’twas the dandy;
And the ladies encored Johnny Fig,
Who volunteered ‘Drops of Brandy.’
Sing turnips, and carrots, and greens,
Sing candles, red herrings, and tea.
Of all the gay parties I’ve seen,
’Tis Madam Fig’s Gala for me.

A brine tub, half full of beef, salted,
Madam Fig had tricked out for a seat, sir,
Whereon Snip, for to sing, was exalted,
But the cover cracked under his feet, sir.
Snip was soused in the brine, but soon rising
Exclaimed, while they laughed at his grief,
“Is it a matter so monstrous surprising,
To see pickled cabbage with beef?”
Sing turnips, and carrots, and greens,
Sing candles, red herrings, and tea.
Of all the gay parties I’ve seen,
’Tis Madam Fig’s Gala for me.

To strike the assembly with wonder,
Miss screamed a cantata, like Boreas,
That waked farmer Thrasher’s dog Thunder,
Who starting up, joined in the chorus:
While a donkey, the melody marking,
Chimed in too, which made a wag say, sir,
“Attend to the Rector of Barking’s
Duet with the Vicar of Bray, sir.”
Sing turnips, and carrots, and greens,
Sing candles, red herrings, and tea.
Of all the gay parties I’ve seen,
’Tis Madam Fig’s Gala for me.

To a ball soon the concert gave way,
And for dancing no souls could be riper,
So they struck up the ‘Devil to Pay,’
But Johnny Fig he paid the piper.
But the best one came after the ball,
For to set off the whole to perfection,
Madam Fig asked the gentlefolks all,
To sup on a fine cold collection.
Sing turnips, and carrots, and greens,
Sing candles, red herrings, and tea,
Of all the gay parties I’ve seen,
’Tis Madam Fig’s Gala for me.

There were oysters, and salads, and porter,
Scotch collops, roast pig, and boiled fowl,
And glasses of brandy and water,
And plenty of punch in a bowl.
The guests they sat merrily down,
Determined to eat and drink hearty,
And nothing was talked of in town,
But Old Madam Fig’s dashing party.
Sing turnips, and carrots, and greens,
Sing candles, red herrings, and tea.
Of all the gay parties I’ve seen,
’Tis Madam Fig’s Gala for me.




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