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The Romance of Crime.
The police of a Belgian village have adopted a small girl, and have pledged themselves to contribute a franc out of the bonus allowed for the capture of each criminal towards her dowry.—Daily paper
Ye gentlemen of lawless mood,
Who pass your valuable time
In deeds the opposite of good—
In fact, in crime—
Do not, to gain your selfish ends,
Strive to evade the men in blue,
A maiden’s happiness depends
On such as you.
When you are taken in the act,
And safely lodged in prison cells,
Another franc—I’m stating fact—
Her dowry swells.
For every member of the force
Contributes that amount, they say,
And so accelerates, of course,
Her wedding day.
So, if they catch you, as they may,
Subdue your longing to resist,
Forego your customary play
With boot and fist.
Go cheerfully where you are led,
Nor strive to kick him on the shin,
Or punch his ribs or break his head,
Who runs you in.
And though, with prison night and day,
You grow emphatically bored,
Cheer up, perhaps in time you may
Reap your reward.
Some morn, for wonders never cease,
You’ll find beside you when you wake
A beautifully bilious piece
Of wedding cake.