r IL90Jrs CIRCULATING LIBRARY, 105, Market Street, Wilmington, sing History, Biography, Voyages, Travels, zines. Novels, Tales, Romances, Miscellanies, Po- and P ays. To the present collection every new on will be added as soon as it can be procured. Terms of Reading. r each duodecimo or smaller volume, one sixteenth dollar per week, till the expiration of two weeks, which the charge is doubled ^Br an octavo volume, one eighth of a dollar pec eek, till the end of the fourth week, after which the Hki-ge is doubled: and in every instance where a book shall be kept a part of a week, the whole week will be charged. ■ BooKBiN'flixo done in a neat and durable manner.— Blank Books for Manufact titers, Merchants, Millers, ^K ks and Public Offi es, ruled by machine, with or ii.li >ut fein' li-.es, patent spring back, Russia bands, &c. Printing, such as Pamphlet^, Cards, Handbills, Cir- <8»iat Letters, Hank Checks, Banks for Public Offices, Bi alv and correctly done on moderate terms. PFo' Sale, a general collection of Books, Stationary, phildr'-n % s Bo< ks, School Books, and a variety of Pat- ent Medicines. I ; DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Treasure %oom THE CABINET OF MOMUSJ ^ _ — — A CHOICE SELECTION OF HUMOROUS POEMS, FROM PINDAR, DIBDIN, COLMAN, IENEAU, PE3WARNE, HOPKINSON, U)D, HUMPHREYS, HARRISON, VTFT, TAYLOR, PITT, &c. 8cc. EMBELL ISHED WITH SIX ENGRA VIA VS COPY RIGHT SECURED, PUBLISHED BY MATHEW CAREY, NO. 122, MARKET STREET, PHILADELPHIA PRINTED BY A. SMALL. 1809. DISTRICT OF PENNSYLVANIA, to wit : ******** BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the twenty- * l. s. * first day of November, in the thirty-fourth year ******** of the Independence of the United States of America, A. D. 1809, Mathew Carey of the said District, hath deposited in this Office, the Title of a Book the right whereof he claims as proprietor, in the words following 1 , to wit : "The Cabinet of Momus ; a choice selection of humor- ous Poems, from P. Pindar, Dibdin, Colman, Freneau, Pen- warne, Hopkinson, Ladd, Humphreys, Harrison, Swift, Tay- lor, Pitt, &c. &c. Embellished with six Engravings.'* In conformity to the act of Congress of the United States, intitled, " An act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the au- thors and proprietors of such copies during the times therein mentioned." And also to the act, entitled " An act supple- mentary to an act, entitled, " An act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies during the time therein mentioned," and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, engraving, and etching historical and other prints." D. CALDWELL, Clerk of the District of Pennsvlvania. en 5 PREFACE. AN old merry philosopher bequeathed to posterity a very sage piece of advice... JfoWc, si sapis.... which, being rendered into plain vernacu- lar language, means. ...Laugh, if you are wise. Being a great admirer of this illustrious sage, I have employed some of my leisure moments to collect materials to enable my fellow citizens to follow his useful prescription, and hope they will have the very salutary effect of proving the wisdom of the reader, by impelling him to the free and unlimited use of his risible faculties. If it be true, as Homer, or Hesiod, or Plu- tarch, or Phsedrus, or some other ancient said, or intended to say, or ought to have said, that every time a man heaves a sigh, he drives a nail into his coffin ; it may, I hope and trust, be as- sumed that every time he indulges in merriment he draws a nail out. This collection then, I fond- ly flatter myself, cannot fail to be acceptable to all my fellow citizens, except the worthy frater- nities of coffin-makers and nailors, whom I most respectfully solicit to pardon me for this interfer- ence with their best interests * 4l^l(>3 IV PREFACE. Should they find this little collection prove very injurious to their accumulation of pelf, I advise them (as a friend) to disseminate as large a num- ber as possible of " THE MISERIES OF HU- MAN LIFE," by way of counteraction. MOMUS, JUN. Philadelphia, Decferriber 1, 1809. CONTENTS. PAGE. NO Tricks upon Travellers, - - 1 Country Bumpkin and the Razor seller, - 4 Mklas's Second Mistake, 6 The Newcastle Apothecary, - - 8 Whimsical Mal-Entendu, - - 11 A Medicine for the Ladies, - - 12 Battle of the Kegs, - - - 14 New England Sabbath-day Chase, - 17 The Boys and the Frogs, 20 The Bat and the Weasels, - - - 2 1 Epitaph on an old Horse, 22 A King and a Brick-maker, - - 23 Two Blanks to a Prize, - - - 25 Humanity and Ingratitude, - - - 26 The Monkey who shaved himself and his frie nds, 29 The Sportsman in Style, - - 30 Monsieur Tonson, - - - 31 Lodgings for Single Gentlemen, - - 36 Adventures of Young Whipstitch, - 38 Epigram (A drunken Scot) - - 40 Parody on Romeo's description of an Apothecary, 4 1 VI CONTENTS. The Apple Dumplings and a King, - - 42 The Almanac Maker, 43 The Indian Convert, - - - 45 Monsieur Kaniferstane, - - - 46 The Toper and the Flies, - - 49 The Pettifogger ; or Fee Simple, Esq. - 50 Patience, - - - - 51 Epigram on the death of a noted Knave, - 53 The Segar, - - - 54 Verses on the Crew of a Vessel, - ib. Ann ; or the Graces, - - - 55 Catch, to a Company of Bad-fiddlers, - ib. Epigram, (I '11 tell thee dear girl) - 56 The Suicide, - ib. The Plymouth Carpenter and the Coffins, - 57 Lines over the door of John Grove, - 59 The Forest Beau, - ib. The Royal Sheep, 60 The Tinker and Glazier, - - 64 A Matrimonial Dialogue, - - 67 Susan and the Spider, - - 69 The Simple Truth most simply told, - 70 The Jewess and her Son, - - 71 Epsom Races, 72 Murphy Delaney, - - - -75 The Owl and the Parrot, - - - ~ 76 Diamond cut Diamond, - - 78 Modes of Courtship, - - - ib. Giles Scroggins Ghost, - - 80 Lubin and the Dentist, - - - 81 Miss Deborah Diddle, and Sir Gilbert Gosoftly, 82 John Doe and Richard Roe, - 83 Kitty Maggs and Jolter Giles, 84 Epigram, (As Thomas was cudgelFd) - 85 Lord B. and the Eunuch, - - 86 The Female Prattler, - - 89 Epigram (As Quin and Foote) - - ib. A Court Audience, - 90 CONTENTS. Vli The Avaro, 90 The Mistake, .... ib. The Tender Husband, - - - 9 i On a Bad Singer, - - - 94 Epigram (Upon some hasty errand) - ib. On a Bowl of Punch, - ib. Epigram, (says a beau to a lady) - - 95 The Lawyer and Client, - ib. Sir Joseph Banks and the Thief-takers, - ib. A Description of London, - - - 98 The Earl of Peterborough and the Mob, - 99 The Gentleman and his Wife, - - 100 Justification, - - - - 102 An Irish Blunder without a Bull, - - 103 Bienseance, - - - - 104 An Anatomical Epitaph on an Invalid, - ib. The Pig and the Magpie, - - 105 A Country Quarter Sessions, - 106 Epitaph on a Blacksmith, - - ib. The First Pair, - - - - 107 The Thought; or a Song of Similies, - ib. The Astronomer's Room, - - - 108 The Fly and the Spider, - - 109 A Tale, .... 110 Poverty and Poetry, - - > \\\ Visit of a King to a Cathedral, - - 112 The Doctor and his Apprentice, - 114 On the Death of a Blacksmith, - - H6 The Well of St. Keyne, - - 117 The Fakenham Ghost, - - - 118 Report of an Adjudged Case, - - 121 Canute and the Ocean, - - - 122 The Brewer's Coachman, - - 124 Repartee, - - . - ib. Curiosity, - - . _ 125 Disappointed Husband, - . - 126 Ode to a Margate Hoy, - - _ 127 The Boy and the Baker, - - - 129 The Old Cheese, - - . ! 3 Mil CONTENTS. Epigram, (A stingy fellow) - * - - 132 A College story, - - * - id. The Ant and the Grasshopper, - - 133 The Peasant and his Ass, - - 134 The Indian Convert, - - 135 The Clown's Reply, - - - 136 CABINET OF MOMUS. NO TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS A TALE. ( p e NWAJt n k : A. CORNISH Miner, high in wrestling fame, And Thomas Triggyniggy was his name : To London city Tom would fain be packing: In hardy enterprise no lad was bolder; He threw his trusty staff across his shoulder, And hung his wardrobe on it in a nackin* The journey was a long one to be sure ; But Tom was hardy, and could much endure: And so he was resolv'd to have's end, And undermine the Thames, at Gravesend: That deefi-laid scheme which cockney artists gravels : So vent'rous Tom set out upon his travels. The weary way he cheer'd with many a song; Or whistled careless as he jogg'd along: Till he the mighty City 'gan to approach ; * Handkerchief. B 2 NO TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. But now he ceas'd to be so cheery, The night was dark and Tom was weary; When soon he saw and loudly haii'd a coach: " Hoa! — Maister Coachman, have'e room for me? " Can'st taak a body in that's mighty tired ?" " Yes" — replied Coachee — " I have only three:" The price agreed for. soon the place was hired. 'Twas pitchy dark, Tom could not see a face ; But 'twixt tnvo ftassejigers he took his place. Tom was a social fellow — lov'd to chatter, And what the subject was, was no great matter; " Eh, goils 1" says Tom, " in such a night as this, u This warm frieze-coat of yours is not amiss; " Be sleaping Maister — may I be so bold?" Tom shook him, but he only growl'd. A man who sat Tom's vis-a-vis, Now spoke — " Why look ye, Sir d'ye see, " That Gem'man there, must needs be dumb, " Because from Russia he's but lately come, " And cannot talk our English lingo: " I am the Tutor, Sir, to that young lad, " The Russian's Nephew, and sure man ne'er had " A wickeder young rogue to teach, by jingo" " Why, Sir," says Tom, " 'tis my belief, " The Nephew is a little thief; " Ave sloal'd away my tatexj pasty;* " Sich tricks mjunsters^ Sir, be nasty; " And efa. worn't a cheeld, as I may saay, M Id throw mun out of winder in the waay" But now the crazy vehicle stood still, Whilst Coachee turn'd about, And begg'd the Gem 11 men to get out, And ease his tired cattle up the hill: No sooner said than done, Each descended — one and one. * Potatoe past}-. 1 SI ?N V. NO TRICKS UPOX TRAVELLERS. And now along the road they're walking, Of this, and that thing, busy talking ; Tom felt his Cornish spirits rising ; Spoke of his wrestling as surprising : The other cried — " if that's your sort, u My Russian friend can show you sport; " He practises the Cornish hug ; u Knows skilful how to turn to hifi ;* " Giving your heels the cleanest trip, u Will lay you on your back so snug." « Will 'a"? quoth Tom, " ef Sir, you'll caal u And make the Coachman stop — we'll try a faal ; " For tho' 'tis dark, and we can't sec, " Yet 'tis as vair for him as me." Now matters being settl'd thus, Thomas approach'd the rugged Russ, Who seiz'd him quickly round the waist ; And grip'd him hard, and held him fast; Both came together to the ground, Away they roll'd with many a bound, Down o'er a pretty steep declivity; While the sly Tutor scamper'd after, Ready to burst his sides with laughter : And had he not with great activity Step'd to their aid, and timely stop'd 'em, Into a gravel pit they'd pop'd 'em. He rais'd our hero from the ground; And—" hop'd, his friend — the Russian there," (Making a formal bow profound) " Had, like a Gem' man, play' 'd him fair'' u Why, — in his way — I must allow " The Gentleman play'd vair enow; " But lord! — sich strength before I never feel'd ; " Why, es a Liant I i f " A hugg'd me up—- -as tho/ivor a cheeld, " And he a Giant ! I • A term made use. of amongst wrestlers, f Lion. 4 THE COUNTRY BUMPKIN But now the day began to dawn, And gild the dew drops on the lawn; When Tom look'd round him, with staring eyes Expressing wonder and surprise ; Saying — " kind Gentlemen I thonk ye;" For now did Thomas see most clear, His late antagonist a Bear ! The Pickpocket a Monkey ! u Thicks upon Travellers — wont do for me I " So now, my friend, I'll have a bout with thee:'' Then seiz'd the Bear-ward by the middle, As tho' no heavier than his fiddle : kW D'ye sarve me so you son o' bitch i" Then giving him the Jiying mare,* And raising off the ground quite clear, He sous'd him in a muddy ditch. " Lie there," quoth Tom, " you fiddling lout, ' ; Your Russian Friend may help you cut ; " And lam henceforth that Lunmui jokes, " Are dangerous things with Cornish folks. * A wrestling* term. THE COUNTRY BUMPKIN AND THE RAZOR-SELLER. (pindar.) Jl ORBEAR, my friends, to sacrifice your fame To sordid gain, unless that you are starving! I own, that hunger will indulgence claim, For hard stone heads, and landscape -carving, In order to make haste to sell and eat; For there is certainly a charm in meat : And in rebellious tones, will stomachs speak. That have not tasted victuals for a week, AND THE RAZOR-SELLER. o But yet there are a mercenary crew, Who value fame, no more than an old shoe ; Provided, for their daubs they get a sale ; Just like the man but, stay — I'll tell the tale ; A fellow, in a market town, Most musical, cry'd razors up and down, And offer'd twelve for eighteen pence ; Which certainly seem'd wond'rous cheap, And, for the money, quite a heap, As ev'ry man would buy, with cash and sense. A country Bumpkin the great offer heard ; Poor Hodge, who suffer'd by a broad black beard, That seem'd a shoe-brush, stuck beneath his nose : With cheerfulness, the eighteen pence he paid; And proudly to himself, in whispers, said : " This rascal stole the razors, I suppose." " No matter, if the fellow be a knave, u Provided that the razors shave ; " It certainly will be a monstrous firize." So home the clown, with his good fortune, went — Smiling — in heart and soul, content — And quickly soap'd himself, to ears and eyes. Being well lathered, from a dish or tub, Hodge now began, with grinning pain, to grub ; Just like a hedger cutting furze. 'Twas a vile razor ! — then the rest he try'd — All were impostors I — " Ab J ." Hodge sigh'd, " I wish my eighteen pence were in my purse I" In vain, to chase his beard, and bring the graces, He cut, and dug, and winc'd, and stamp'd, and swore ; Brought blood, and danc'd, blasphem'd, and made wry faces ; And curs'd each razor's body, o'er and o'er : b 2 o MIDAS'S SECOND MISTAKE His muzzle, form'd of opposition stuff, Firm as a Foxitc, would not lose its ruff; So kept it — laughing at the steel and suds. Hodee, in a passion, stretch'd Ids angry jaws, Vowing the direst vengeance, with clench'd claws. On the vile cheat, that sold the goods — " Razors! — (a damn'd, confounded dog!^ — " Not fit to scrape a hog!" Hodge sought the fellow — found him, and begun-— " P'rhaps, Master Razor-rogue, to you 'tis fun, u That people flay themselves cut of their lives ! " You rascal! — for an hour, have Ibeen grubbing, " Giving my scoundrel whiskers here a scrubbing, M With razors, just like oyster-knives. i; Sirrah ! I tell you, you're a knave, " To cry up razors, that can't shave .'" ;C Friend, (quoth the razor-man) Fm not a knave ; u As for the razors you have bought, a Upon my soul, I never thought, • c That they would ah \~ce" 41 Not think, they'd shave 1" quoth Hodge, with wond'ring eyes, And voice not much unlike an Indian yell ; " What were they made for, then ? you dog !" he cries : " Made'! 1 '' quoth the fellow, with a smile — " to sell V MIDAS'S SECOND MISTAKE. O NCE an old country squaretoes, tofopp'ry a foe, And disgusted alike at a crop and a beau, Being church-warden made, was in office so strict, That there scarce was a coat, but a hole in't he'd pick : MIDAS'S SECOND MISTAKE. : Infringements, encroachments, and trespasses scout- ing ; And from straddling the tomb-stones the boys daily routing : At last made a justice, corruption to purge, His Worship became both a nuisance and scourge : When a poor needy neighbour, who kept a miich ass, Which he cften turn'd into the church-yard for grass, And with long ears and tail o'er the graves did he stray, While perchance, now and then, at bystanders he'd bray : And once when old Midas was passing along, He set up his pipes at his brother, ding dong; At which his puff'd pride was so stung to the quick, That he glar'd at the browser as stern as Old Nick; And when he got home, for the sexton he sent, Who, with this doughty threat, to the ass-keeper went ; That again should his beast the church-w r arden as- sail, Or be seen in the church-yard — he'd cut off his tail: When the owner replied — " Sure his worship but jeers ; But should he dock donky — I'll cut off his ear*. v When no sooner the answer was brought to him back, But he summon'd before him the clown in :> crack ; And he said — " Thou vile varlet, how comes it to pass, That thou dar'st for to threaten to crop a jusf -ass ? Thou cm off my ears ? — Make his mittimus-, clerk; I'll make an example of this precious spark : But Mist reach me down the black act—- .! see That, the next Lent Assizes, he'il - . tree.** " I zwing on a tree ! — una for what :" replies Hob, How the dickens came zuch a strange freak in your knob ? * THE NEWCASTLE APOTHECARY. I woanly but zaid, if my ass met your sheers, And you cut off his tail, that I'd cut off his ears ; Vor as you hate long tails, as the mark of a fop, I'd ha' don't, 'cause I knaugh that you don't like a crop." At this subtle rejoinder, his worship struck dumb, Found his proud overbearing was quite overcome r So the ass sav'd his tail by a quibble so clever, And the justice's ears are now longer than ever. THE NEWCASTLE APOTHECARY. (COLMAN, JUNIOR.) xjl MAN, in many a country town, we know, Professes openly with Death to wrestle ; Ent'ring the field against the grimly foe, Arm'd with a mortar and a pestle. Yet, some affirm, no enemies they are ; But meet just like prize-fighters, in a Fair, Who first shake hands before they box, Then give each other plaguy knocks, With all the love and kindness of a brother ; So (many a suff'ring Patient saith,) Tho' the Apothecary fights with Death, Still they're sworn friends to one another. A member of this JEsculapian line, Lived at Newcastle upon Tyne ; No man could better gild a pill ; Or make a bill ; Or mix a draught, or bleed, or blister ; Or draw a tooth out of your head ; Or chatter scandal by your bed ; Or give a clyster. Of occupations these were quantum suff. : Yet, still, he thought the list not long enough; THE NEWCASTLE APOTHECARY. 9 And therefore Midwifery he chose to pin to't. This balanced things: — for if he hurld A few score mortals from the world, He made amends by bringing others in to't. His fame, full six miles round the country ran ; In short, in reputation he was solus : All the old women call'd him * a fine man 1' His name was Bolus. Benjamin Bolus, tho' in trade, (Which oftentimes wiil genius fetter) Read works of fancy, it is said ; And cultivated the Belles Letters. And why should this be thought so odd ? Can't men have taste who cure a phthysic ? Of Poetry tho 5 Patron-God, Apollo patronises Physic. Bolus loved verse ; — and took so much delight Sji't, That his prescriptions he resolv'd to write in't. No opportunity he e'er let pass Of writing the directions, on his labels, In dapper couplets, — like Gay's -Fables; Or, rather, like the lines in Hudibras. Apothecary's verse ! — and where's the treason ? 'Tis simply honest dealing ;— not a crime ; — . When Patients swallow physick without reason, It is but fair to give a little rhyme. He had a patient lying at death's door, Some three miles from the town — it might be four ; To whom, one evening, Boius sent an article, In Pharmacy, that's cali'd cathartical : And, on the label of the stuff, He wrote this verse ; 10 THE NEWCASTLE APOTHECARY. Which, one would think, was clear enough. And terse : — u When taken, " To be well shaken. Next morning, early, Bolus rose, And to the Patient's house he goes ; — Upon his pad, Who a vile trick of stumbling had : It was, indeed, a very sorry hack ; But that's of course ; For what's expected from a horse, With an Apothecary on his back ? Bolus arrived ; and gave a doubtful tap ; Between a single and a double rap. — Knocks of this kind Are given by Gentlemen who teach to dance ; By Fiddlers, and by Opera-singers : One loud, and then a little one behind ; As if the knocker fell, by chance, Out of their fingers. The Servant lets him in, with dismal face, Long as a courtier's out of place — Portending some disaster ; John's countenance as rueful look'd, and gr\m, As if th' Apothecary had physick'd him, — And not his master. " Well, how's the patient?" Bolus said — John shook his head. " Indeed ! — hum ! ha ! — that's very odd ! u He took the draught ?" — John gave a nod. " Well— how ? — what then ? — speak out, you dunce!" " Why then" — says John — " we shook him onCe." WHIMSICAL MAL-ENTEXDU. 11 " Shook him! — how?" — Bolus stammer'd out: — " We jolted him about." • " Zounds ! shake a patient, man ! — a shake won't do!" " No, sir — and so we gave him two." " Two shakes ! od's curse ! " 'Twould make the patient worse." " It did so, sir I — and so a third we tried." " Well, and what then?" — " then, sir, my master died." THE WHIMSICAL MAL-ENTENDU. AX EPIGRAM. j\ POOR simple foreigner, not long ago, Whose knowledge of English was, simply, so so; At a shop window reading, " Good pickles sold here," To the shopwoman said, " Vat is pickles, my dear r" u Why, pickles," says she, " is a sort of a name, Like preserves, and the meaning is nearly the same; For pickling preserves, though not quite the same _ way, Yet 'tis much the same thing, as a body may say." The foreigner bow'd, and gave thanks for his lesson ; Which, the next day, at dinner, he made a fine mess on; For a loud clap of thunder caus'd Miss Kitty Ner- vous, To start from her chair, and cry, " Mercy, preserve us!" While he, keeping closely his lesson in view, Cry'd " Mercy preserve us, and pickle us too !" A MEDICINE FOR THE LADIES. IVllSS Molly, a fam'd toast, was fair and young, Had wealth and charms — but then she had a tongue ! From morn to night, th' eternal larum rung, Which often lost those hearts her eyes had won. Sir John was smitten, and confessed his flame, Sigh'd out the usual time, then wed the dame ; Possess'd he thought, of ev'ry joy of life ; But his dear Molly prov'd a very wife. Excess of fondness did in time decline ; Madam lov'd money, and the knight lov'd wine : From whence some petty discords would arise, As, " You're a fool !" — and, " You are mighty wise 1" Tho* he and all the world allow'd her wit ; Her voice was shrill, and rather loud than sweet ; When she began — for hat and sword he'd call ; Then, after a faint kiss> cry, " B'y, dear Moll : M Supper and friends expect me at the Rose." " And, what, Sir John, you'll get your usual dose ? " Go, stink of smoke, and guzzle nasty wine ; " Sure, never virtuous love was us'd like mine 1" Oft', as the watchful bellman march his round, At a iresh bottle gay Sir John he found; By four :he knight would get his business done, And only then reei'd oF, because alone. Full weil he knew the dreadful storm to come ; But, arm'd with Bordeaux, he durst venture home My lady with her tongue was still prepar'd; She raitied loud, and he impatient heard : u 'Tis a fine hour ! In a sweet pickle made ! " And this, Sir John, is ev'ry day the trade. " Here I sit moping all the live-long night, " Devour d by spleen, and stranger to delight; " Till morn sends staggering home a drunken beast, " Resolv'd to break my heart, as well as rest." A MEDICIXE FOR THE LADIES. I u Hey ! hoop ! d'ye hear, my damn'd obstrep'rous spouse ! « What can't you find one bed about the house ? " Will that perpetual clack lie never still ? " That rival to the softness of a mill! " Some couch and distant room must be my choice, " Where I may sleep uncurs'd with wife and noise." Long this uncomfortable life they led, With snarling meals, and each a separate bed. To an old uncle oft she would complain, Beg his advice, and scarce from tears refrain. Old Wisewood smok'd the matter as it was ; " Cheer up 1" cried he, "and I'll remove the cause ; " A wond'rous spring within my garden flows, " Of sov'reign virtue, chiefly to compose " Domestic jars, and matrimonial strife, " The best elixir t' appease man and wife ; " Strange are th' effects, the qualities divine ; 11 'Tis water call'd, but worth its weight in wine : " If in his sullen airs, Sir John should come, " Three spoonfulls take, hold in your mouth — then mum : " Smile, and look pleas'd, when he shall rage and scold, " .Still in your mouth the healing cordial hold; " One month this sympathetic med'cine try'd, 4i He '11 grow a lover, you a happy bride : " But, dearest niece, keep this grand secret close, " Or ev'ry prattling hussey '11 beg a dose." A water-bottle 's brought for her relief; Not Nantz could sooner ease the lady's grief: Her busy thoughts are on the trial bent, And, female-like, impatient for th' event. The bonny knight reels home, exceeding clear, Prepar'd for clamour, and domestic war. Entering, he cries — " Hey ! where's our thunder fled ? " No hurricane? Betty's your lady dead:" Madam, aside, an ample mouthful takes, Curt'sies, looks kind, but not a word she speaks. c 14 BATTLE OF THE KEGS. Wond'ring, he star'd, scarcely his eyes belie v'd, But found his ears agreeably deceiv'd. " Why, how now, Molly, what's the crotchet now r" She smiles, and answers only with a bow. Then clasping her about — " Why, let me die ! " These night-clothes, Moll, become you mightily !' r With that, he sigh'd, her hand began to press, And Betty calls, her lady to undress. Thus the fond pair to bed enamour' d went, The lady pleas'd, and the good knight content. For many days these fond endearments pass'd, The reconciling bottle fails at last ; 'Twas us'd and gone — then midnight storms arose-- And looks and words the union discompose. Her coach is order'd, and post-haste she flies To beg her uncle for some fresh supplies; Transported does the strange effects relate, Her knight's conversion and her happy state ! " Why, niece," says he, " I prithee apprehend, " The water 's water — be thyself thy friend ; " Such beauty would the coldest husband warm, u But your provoking tongue undoes the charm . ;c Be silent and complying — you '11 soon find, " Sir John, without a med'eine, will be kind." BATTLE OF TPIE KEGS. (f. hofkixsox.) VJTALLAXTS, attend, and hear a friend, Trill forth harmonious ditty : Strange things I '11 tell, which late befel In Philadelphia city. BATTLE OF THE KEGS 15 Twas early day, as poets say, Just when the sun was rising, A soldier stood on log of wood, And saw a sight surprising. As in a maze, he stood to gaze, (The truth can't be denied, sir) lie spied a score of kegs or more Come floating down the tide, sir. A sailor, too, in jerkin blue, The strange appearance viewing, First damn'd his eyes, in great surprise ; Then said — " Some mischief's brewing " These kegs now hold the rebels bold, " Pack'd up like pickled herring ; ;; And they 're come down, t' attack the town " In this new way of ferry'ng." The soldier flew — the sailor too — And, scar'd almost to death, sir, Wore out their shoes, to spread the news ; And ran till out of breath, sir. Now up and down, throughout the town, Most frantic scenes were acted : And some ran here, and some ran there, Like men almost distracted. Some " Fire" cry'd ; which some deny'd, But said the earth had quaked : And girls and boys, with hideous noise, Ran through the town half naked. Sir William* he, snug as a flea, Lay all this time a snoring ; Nor dreamt of harm, as he lay warm In bed with Mrs. L . • William Howe BATTLE OF THE KEGS. Now in a fright, he starts upright, Awak'd by such a clatter : He rubs both eyes ; and boldly cries, " For God's sake, what 5 s the matter r" At his bed-side, he then cspy'd Sir Erskine* at command, sir; Upon one foot, he had one boot, And t' other in his hand, sir. " Arise ! arise I" sir Erskine cries : " The rebels — more 's the pity — " Without a boat, are all on float, " And rang'd before the city. " The motley crew, in vessels new, " With Satan for their guide, sir, u Pack'd up in bags, or wooden kegs " Come driving down the tide, sir. rt Therefore, prepare for bloody war : " These kegs must all be routed : " Or surely we despis'd shall be, " And British courage doubted." The royal band now ready stand, All rang'd in dread array, sir ; With stomachs stout to see it out, And make a bloody day, sir. The cannons roar, from shore to shore ; The small arms make a rattle. Since wars began, I'm sure no man E'er saw so strange a battle. The rebelf vales, the rebel dales, With rebel trees surrounded, ' Sir William Erskine. | The British officers were so fond of the word vebcl, that 'h^y often applied it most absurdly. THE NEW ENGLAND SABBATH-DAY CHACE. 17 The distant woods, the hills and floods. With rebel echoes sounded. The fish below swam to and fro, Attack'd from ev'ry quarter : ■' Why sure," thought they, " the devTs to pay " 'Mongst folks above the water." The kegs, 'tis said, though strongly made Of rebel staves and hoops, sir, Could not oppose their powerful foes, The conqu'ring British troops, sir. From morn to night, those men of miglu Display'd amazing courage ; And when the sun was fairly down, Retir'd to sup their porridge. An hundred men, with each a pen, Or more, upon my word, sir, It is most true, would be too few, Their valour to record, sir. Such feats did they perform that day, Upon those wicked kegs, sir, That years to come, if they get home, They'll make their boasts and brags, sir THE NEW ENGLAND SABBATH-DAY CHACE. (p. FRENEAU.) VJN a fine Sunday morning I mounted my steed And southward from Hartford- had meant to pro- ceed ; My baggage was stow'd in a cart very snug, Which Raxgeu, the gelding, w r as destined to lug; c 2 18 THE NEW ENGLAND SABBATH-DAY CIIACE. With his harness and buckles, he loom'd very grand, And was drove by young Darby, a lad of the land — On land, or on water, most handy was he, A jockey on shore, and a sailor at sea ; He knew all the roads, he was so very keen, And the Bible by heart, at the age of fifteen. As thus I jogg'd on, to my saddle confined, With Ranger and Darby a distance behind ; At last in full view of a steeple we came With a cock on the spire (I suppose he was game ; A dove in the pulpit may suit your grave people, But always remember — a cock on the steeple) ('ries Darby — " Dear master, I beg you to stay ; Believe me, there's danger in driving this way ; Our deacons on Sundays have power to arrest And lead us to church — if your honour thinks best — Though still I must do them the justice to tell, They would choose you should pay them the line — full as well." u The fine (said I) Darby, how much may it be — A shilling or sixpence ? — why, now let me see, Three shillings are all the small pence that remain, And to change a half joe would be rather profane. Is it more than three shillings, the fine that you speak on ; What say you, good Darby — will that serve the deacon." " Three shillings ! (cried Darby) why, master, you 're jesting ! — Let us luff while we can and make sure of our west- ing— Forty shillings, excuse me, is too much to pay ; It would take my month's wages — that' s all I 've to say. By taking this road that inclines to the right The squire and the sexton may bid us good night, If once to old Ranger I give up the rein The parson himself may pursue us in vain.' 1 j THE NEW ENGLAND SABBATH-DAY CHACE. 19 " Not I, my good Darby (I answer'd the lad) Leave the church on the left ! they would think we were mad ; I would sooner rely on the heels of my steed, And pass by them all, like a Jehu indeed : — As long as I 'm able to lead in the race Old Ranger, the gelding, will go a good pace, As the deacon pursues, he will fly like a swallow, And you in the cart, must, undoubtedly, follow." Then approaching the church, as wepass'd by the door The sexton peep'd out, with a saint or two more, A deacon came forward and waved us his hat, A signal to drop him some money — mind that!— " Now, Darby (I halloo'd be ready to skip, Ease off the curb bridle — give Ranger the whip : While you have the rear, and myself lead the way r No doctor or deacon can catch us this day." By this time the deacon had mounted his poney And chaced for the sake of our souls and — our mo- ney : The saint, as he followed, cried — " Stop them, hal- loo I" As swift as he followed, as swiftly we flew — " Ah master ! (said Darby) I very much fear We must drop him some money to check his career, He is gaining upon us and waves with his hat, There 's nothing, dear master, will stop him but that. Remember the Beaver (you well know the fable) Who flying the hunters as lopg as he 's able, When he finds that his efforts can nothing avail, But death and the puppies are close at Ins tail, Instead of desponding at such a dead lift, He bites off thnr object^ and makes a free gift — Since fortune ail hope of escaping denies Better give them a little than lose the whole prize." THE BOYS AND THE FROGS. But scarce had he spoke, when we came to a place Whose muddy condition concluded the chace, Down settled the cart — and old Ranger stuck fast t{ Aha ! (said the saint) have I catch'd ye at last ?** tF tf If *F <> fO THE SIMPLE TRUTH MOST SIMPLY TOLD. ■" Ar' n't you a murderer?" gravely Susan cries; " Ar' n't you for ever busy with that claw, u Killing poor unoffending little flies, u Merely to satisfy your nasty maw." u But, Susan, do n't you feed on gentle lamb ? u Do n't you on pretty little pigeon cram ? " Do n't you on harmless fishes often dine 1" li That 's very true, quoth Susan, true indeed ; u Lord 1 with what eloquence these spiders plead I " This little rascal beats a grave divine. " It was no snake, I verily believe, " But a sly spider that seduced poor Eve. " But then you are so ugly" — u Ah! sweet Sue, " I did not make myself, you know too well : a Could I have made myself, I had been you, " And killed with envy every beauteous belle/' (i Heavens ! to this Spider !— what a witching tongue J ;< Well! go about thy business — go along ; " All animals, indeed, their food must get : " And hear me — shouldstthou look with longing eyes, *' At any time, on young, fat, luscious flies, " I '11 drive the little rascals to thy net. " Lord ! then how blind! 've been to form and feature : M I think a Spider, now, a comely creature 1" THE SIMPLE TRUTH MOST SIMPLY TOLD. AN EPIGRAM. JlIoNEST Teague, when retum/d from a trip to the North, For to Lapland 't was said he had been ; Was questioned — " If during his cold wintry birth. Whether any Rein Deer he had seen ?" " When," says he, " by my sowle, as truth I regard, " I was station'd there almost a year ; H And sometimes, in the summer, it rain'd very hard, ** But I never once saw it rain Deer 7M 71 THE JEWESS AND HER SON, (PINDAR.) JL4CONOMY 's a very useful broom ; Yet should not ceaseless hunt about the room To catch each straggling pin to make a plum. Too oft economy 's an iron vice, That squeezes e'en the little guts of mice, That peep with fearful eyes, and ask a crumb. Proper economy 's a comely thing ; Good in a subject — better in a king ; Yet pushed too far, it dulls each finer feeling, Most easily inclined to make folks mean ; Inclines them, too, to villainy to lean, To overreaching, perjury, and stealing. E'en when the heart should only think of grief. It creeps into the bosom like a thief, And swallows up th' affections all so mild — Witness the Jewess and her only child. Poor Mistress Levi had a luckless son, Who, rushing to obtain the foremost seat. In imitation of th' ambitious great, High from the gallery, ere the play begun, He fell all plump into the pit, Dead in a minute as a nit : In short, he broke his pretty Hebrew neck ; Indeed and very dreadful was the wreck 1 The mother was distracted, raving, wild ; Shrieked, tore her hair, embraced and kissed her child ; Afflicted every heart with grief around, Soon as the shower of tears was somewhat past, And moderately calm th' hysteric blast, She cast about her eyes in thought profound ; A.nd being with a saving knowledge blessed, She thus the play-house manager addressed : 72 EPSOM RACES. " Sher, I 'm de moder of de poor Chew lad, " Dat meet mishfartin here so bad — " Sher, I muss haf de shilling back, you know " Ass Moses haf nat see de show/' EPSOM RACES. V/OME, Madam Muse, new nib thy pen. And put on thy best graces ; To sing, in merry, jocund strain, The joys of Epsom Races. Curricles, coaches, chaises, giggs, Beaux, bloods, and men of trade, Black-legs, nobles, peers, and prigs, All join the cavalcade. The young, the old, the brown, the fair, Of pleasure take their fill ; The mania spreads, from Berkeley-square. As far as Fish-street-hill ! Miss Drugget cries — " My sweet papa, Let 's go to Epsom pray ; There 's you, and I, and dear mamma. Will fill a one-horse chaise. In order to go safe and slow, By day -break we '11 set off ; The ride will do you good I know, And cure your nasty cough. I (hates upon the country now ; How sweet the wernal breezes ! We '11 take our dinner, too, I ivoiv, And dine beneath the treezcs." Old Drugget shook his cranium wise;. But madam cried-— u I fegs ! EPSOM RACES. What, tho' old Dobbin 's lost both eyes, He still has got four legs. You cruel man, you 're more severe, Than Chinese, Turk, or Persian ; Deny your wife, and daughter dear, But one short day's diversion. So, Mr. Drugget, pray give o'er, THE GENTLEMAN AND HIS WIFE. 101 Quoth she, " AlFs well as heart can well desire. " With madam and the fjne young squire : " So likewise says old doctor Slop." Off Betty hurried as fast as she could scour. Fast and as hard as any horse That trotteth fourteen miles an hour — A pretty tolerable course. Soon happy Betty came again, Blowing with all her might and main ; Just like a grampus, or a whale ; In sounds, too, that would Calais reach from Dover — " Sir, sir, more happy tidings ; 't is not over — " And madam 's brisker than a nightingale : " A fine young lady to the world is come, " Squawling away just as I left the room " Sir, this is better than a good estate." " Humph," quoth the happy man, and scratch'd his pate. Now looking up — now looking down; Not with a smile, but somewhat like a frown — " Good God," says he, " why was not I a cock, : Who never feels of burd'ning brats the shock ; " Who, Turk-like, struts amidst his madam's picking, " Whilst to the hen belongs the care " To carry them to eat, or take the air, " Or bed beneath her wing the chicken?" Just as this sweet soliloquy was ended, He found affairs not greatly mended ; For in bounc'd Bet, her rump with rapture jig- ging— " Another daughter, sir — a charming child." — u Another I" cry'd the man, with wonder wild ; u Zounds ! Betty, ask your mistress if she 'dfigging,'* k2 10; JUSTIFICATION. -/jl FARMER once, who wanted much A sturdy husbandman ; And one, well qualified as such, To suit his thrifty plan : One who w r as sparing at his meat, And sparing in his drink ; And, daily task-work to complete, Would never flinch or shrink - 9 Induc'd a clodpole to apply, Commended by*a neighbour, As " Never hungry, never dry, « Nor ever tir'd of labour i" But soon, when hir'd, and set to work, He prov'd, to crown the bam, As lazy as a cross-legg'd Turk, Yet turkey-like, he 'd cram I For bacon -rack was quickly shrunk, So well he 'd fill his dish ; And soon the cellar's stock was sunk, He 'd drink so like a fish ! Which made old Squeezum rail and rave, Against his neighbour Muggs ; To bubble him like a lying knave, With three such d d humbugs. You " Never hungry 1 ne'er athirst ! " @f working never tir'd !" I wish that both your skins had burst, Ere such a pest I hir'd. * Hold, zur, says Hobnail, doant ye vly " In such a deadly twoddle j AN IRISH BLUNDER WITHOUT A BULL 10. jk If Measter Muggs have tould a lie, " Then vairly crack my noddle. ; * Vor I do never hungry be, " Before my guts I vill, " And drowth do never trouble me, " Before I gets a zwill. " And I did never work pursue, u Till tir'd or overheated ; rt Zo Measter Muggs have tould ye true. " And you have not been cheated." AN IRISH BLUNDER WITHOUT A BULL. V^OLONEL Patrick O'Blaney, as honest a teague, As ever took snuff to repel pest or plague, Having got a French snuff box, of fiapicr machee, Which to open requir'd much pains, do you see ; Always kept a bent sixpence at hand in his pocket., And call'd it his key, by the which to unlock it; As by niggling and wedging it under the lid, He came at his rappee that was under it hid : But one day when he wanted a pinch for a friend, He search'd for his tester, but all to no end, Till at last 'twixt the pocket and lining he found it ; When in rage he cried — « Arrah, the devil con- found it, I '11 engage you don't serve me the same trick again, For to make me after thus hunting in vain." So opening the box by the help of the tizzy, And feaking his nose till his noddle was dizzy, He chuck'd in the coin, and exclaimed with a shrug, While tight went the rim down — " So there you lie snug ; And my hide-and-seek friend, I beg leave to remind ye, That the next time I want you, I '11 know where to find ye." A 104> BIEjSTSEANCE. (PINDAR.) T Paris, sometime since, a murd'ring man, A German, and a most unlucky chap, Sad, stumbling at the threshold of his plan, Fell into Justice's strong trap. The bungler was condemn'd to grace the wheel, On which the dullest fibres learn to feel ; His limbs secundum artem to be broke Amidst ten thousand people, p'rhaps, or more ; When ever Monsieur Ketch appli'd a stroke, The culprit, like a bullock, made a roar. A flippant petit maitre skipping by, Stepp'd up to him, and check'd him for his cry — " Boh !" quoth the German ; " aa't I 'pon the wheel \ " D' ye tink my nerfs and bons can't feel ?" u Sir," quoth the beau ; " do n't, do n't be in a passion ; " I 've nought to say about your situation ; " But making such a hideous noise in France, " Fellow, is contrary to biemeance." AN ANATOMICAL EPITAPH ON AN IN- VALID. H (WRITTEN fiY HIMSELF.) .ERE lies an head, that often ach'dr Here lie two hands that always shak'd : Here lies a brain of odd conceit ; Here lies a heart that often beat : Here lie two eyes that daily wept, And in the night but seldom slept ; Here lies a tongue that whining talk'd Here lie two feet that feebly walk'd ; THE PI£ AND THE MAGPIE. 105 Here lie the midriff and the breast, With loads of indigestion prest; Here lies the liver, full of bile, That ne'er secreted proper chyle ; Here lie the bowels, human tripes. Tortur'd with wind, and twisting gripes ; Here lies the livid dab, the spleen, The source of life's sad tragic scene ; That left side weight that clogs the blood, And stagnates nature's circling flood ; Here lie the nerves, so often twite h'd With painful cramps and poignant stitch ; Here lies the back, oft rackt with pains ; Corroding kidneys, loins and reins ; Here lies the skin, by scurvy fed, With pimples and eruptions red ;• Here lies the man from top to toe, That fabric fram'd for pain and woe. THE PIG AND THE MAGPIE. (PIXDAR.) V./OCKING his tail, a saucy prig, A Magpie hopp'd upon a Pig, To pull some hair, forsooth, to line his nest ; And with such ease began the hair attack, As thinking the fee simple of the back W T as by himself, and not the pig, possest. The Boar look'd up as thunder black to Mag, Who, squinting down on him like an arch wag, Inform 'd Mynheer some bristles must be torn; Then busy went to work, not nicely culling ; Got a good handsome beakfull by good puiling, And flew without a " thank ye" to his thorf*. The pig set up a dismal yelling ; Follow'dthe robber to his dwelling, 106 Who, like a fool, had built it midst a bramble : In manfully he sallied, full of might, Determin'd to obtain his right, And midst the bushes now began to scramble. He drove the magpie, tore his nest to rags, And, happy on the downfall, pour'd his brags : But ere he from the brambles came alack ! His ears and eyes were miserably torn, His bleeding hide in such a plight forlorn, He could not count ten hairs upon his back. A COUNTRY QUARTER SESSIONS. T- HREE or four parsons, full of October, Three or four 'squires, between drunk and sober Three or four lawyers, three or four liars ; Three or four constables, three or four cryers; Three or four parishes bringing appeals, Three or four writings, and three or four seals ; Three or four bastards, three or four whores, Tag, rag, and bobtail, ihree or four scores; Three or four statutes, misunderstood ; Three or four paupers, all praying for food ; Three or four roads, that never were mended; Three or four scolds — and the session is ended. M EPITAPH ON A BLACKSMITH. ,Y sledge and hammer lie declin'd ; My bellows too have lost their wind ; My fire's extinct, my forge decay'd ; My vice is in the dust all laid ; My coal is spent, my iron gone, My nails are drove, my work is done. My fire-dried corpse lies here at rest ; My soul, smoke -like, soars to be blest 107 THE FIRST PAIR. xjlDAM alone could not be easy, So he must have a wife, an' please ye J And how did he procure this wife, To cheer his solitary life ? Out of a rib, sir, from his side, Was form'd this necessary bride : But how did he the pain beguile ? How ? — He slept sweetly all the while ; And when this rib was re-applied, In woman's form to Adam's side, How, then, I pray you, did it answer ? " He never slept so sweet again, sir." THE THOUGHT, OR, A SONG OF SIMIL1ES, I .'VE thought, the fair Narcissa cries ; What is it like, sir? — H Like your eyes— " 'Tis like a chair — 'tis like a key — " 'Tis like a purge — 'tis like a flea — " 'Tis like a beggar — like the sun — •* 'Tis like the Dutch — 'tis like the moon — " 'Tis like a kilderkin of ale — " 'Tis like a doctor — like a whale — " Why are my eyes, sir, like a sword ? For that's the thought, upon my word. " Ah 1 witness every pang I feel ; u The deaths they give the likeness tell. u A sword is like a chair /ou'li find, ** Because 'tis most an end behind. " 'Tis like a key, for 'twill undo one ; " 'Tis like a purge, for 'twill run thro' one ; " 'Tis like a flea, and reason good, " 'Tis often drawing human blood." Why like a beggar ? — a You shall hear; * 'Tis often carried 'fore the May'r ; 108 THE ASTRONOMER'S ROOM' " 'Tis like the sun, because 'tis gilt, " Besides it travels in a belt. " '"Tis like the Dutch, we plainly see, u Because that state, whenever we H A push for our own int'rest make, u Does instantly our sides forsake." The moon ? — " Why, when all 's said and done, " A sword is very like the moon ; " For if his majesty (God bless him) " When county sheriff comes t' address him, M Is pleas'd his favours to bestow " On him before him kneeling low, " This o'er his shoulders glitters bright, u And gives the glory to the knight (night) : " 'Tis like a kilderkin, no doubt, » l For it 's not long in drawing out. " 'Tis like a Doctor ; for who will " Dispute a doctor's pow'r to kill ? But why a sword is like a w T hale Ts no such easy thing to tell ; " But since all swords are swords, d'ye see, " Why, let it then a backsword be, ;i Which, if well us'd, will seldom fail " To raise up somewhat like a w r hale." THE ASTRONOMER'S ROOM. VJnE day I call'd, and, Philoout, I op'd the door, and look'd about ; When all his goods being full in view, 1 took this inventory true : Item. — A bed without a curtain, \ broken jar to empty dirt in, A candlestick, a greasy night-cap, A spitting-pot to catch what might hap ; Two stockings darn'd with numerous stitches, A piece of shirt, a pair of breeches ; THE FLY AND SPIDER. 109 A three legg'd stool, a four legg'd table, Were fill'd with books unfit for rabble ; Sines, tangents, secants, radius, co-sines, Subtangents, segments, and all those signs ; Enough to shew the man who made 'em Was full as mad as he who read 'em : An almanack of six years standing, A cup with ink, and, one with sand in ; One corner held his books and chest, And round the floor were strew'd the rest ; That all things might be like himself, He 'd neither closet, draw or shelf ; Here, p — pot, sauce-pot, broken platter. Appear'd like heterogeneous matter. In ancient days the walls were white, But who 'gainst damps and snails can fight ? They 're now in wreathy ringlets bound, Some square, some oval, and some round The antiquarian there may find Each hieroglyphic to his mind ; Such faces there may fancy trace, As never yet knew time or place ; And he who studies maps or plans, Has all the work done to his hands ; In short, the room, the goods, and author, Appear'd to be one made for t' other. THE FLY AND SPIDER. (PINDAH.) " CrOOD-MORROW, dear Miss Fly," quoi it gallant Grim, " Good-morrow, sir," — reply'd Miss Fly to him. " Walk in, Miss, pray, and see what I 'm about." « I 'm much oblig'd t' ye, sir," Miss Fly rejoin'd ; " My eyes are both so very good, I find, " That I can plainly see the whole nvithout" L 110 A TALE. 11 Fine weather, Miss !" — (i Yes, very, very fine," Quoth Miss — " prodigious fine indeed!" ■** But why so coy ?" quoth Grim, " that you decline " To put within my bow'r your pretty head ?" " *Tis simply this," Quoth cautious Miss ; *•' I fear you *d like my pretty head so well, " You 'd keep it for yourself, sir : — who can tell ?" " Then let me squeeze your lovely hand, my dear, " And prove that all your dread is foolish, vain." u I *ve a sore finger, sir ; nay, more, I fear, " You really would not let it go again." " Poh, poh, child, pray dismiss your idle dread ; u I would not hurt a hair of that sweet head, — " Come, then, with one kind kiss of friendship meet me." u La sir," quoth Miss, with seeming artless tongue, " I fear our salutation would be long ; " So loving, too, I fear that you would— eat me" So saying, with a smile she left the rogue, To weave more lines of death, and plan for prog. A TALE. (BY THE REV. MR. BISHOP.) JN O plate had John and Joan to hoard, Plain folk in humble plight ; One only tankard crown'd their board.. And that was fill'd each night : Along whose inner bottom sketch'd, In pride of chubby grace, Some rude engraver's hand had etcli'd. A baby Angel's face* POVERTY AND POETRY 1 1 Tt John swallow'd first a mocTrate sup ; But Joan was not like John ; For when her lips once touch'd the cup.^ She swill'd till all was gone. John often urg'd her to drink fair, But she ne'er chang'd a jot ; She lov'd to see the angel there, And therefore drain'd the pot. When John found all remonstrance vain. Another card he play'd ; And, where the angel stood so plain, He got a devil pourtray'd. Joan saw the horns, Joan saw the tail, Yet Joan as stoutly quaff 'd, And ever when she seiz'd her ale., She clear' d it at a draught. John star'd, with wonder petrify'd, His hairs rose on his pate ; And, " Why dost guzzle now," he cry'd, u At this enormous rate." * O John," said she, " am I to blame I I can 't in conscience stop : For sure *t would be a burning shame, To leave the devil a dro/i /" POVERTY AND POETRY. A WAS sung of old, how one Amphion Could by his verses tame a lion ; And by his strange enchanting tunes Make bears and wolves dance rigadoons ; His songs could call the timber down,^ And form it into house or town ; 112 VISIT OF A KING TO A CATHEDRAL. But it is plain now in these times No house is rais'd by poet's rhymes ; They for themselves can only rear A few old castles in the air. Poor are the brethren of the bays, Down from high strains to ekes and ayes ; The muses too are virgins yet, And may be till they portions get; Yet still the doting rhymer dreams, And sings of Helicon's bright streams ; But Helicon, for all his clatter, Yields nothing but insipid water ; Yet, ev'n athirst, he sweetly sings Of nectar and Elysian springs. The grave physician, who by physic, Like death, dispatches him that is sick, Pursues a sure and thriving trade ; Tho' patients die, the doctor 's paid ; Licens'd to kill, he gains a palace, For what another mounts a gallows. In shady groves the muses play, And love in flow'ry meads to stray ; Pleas'd with a bleaky barren ground, Where rip'ning fruits are never found. But then some say you purchase fame, And gain a never-dying name ; Great recompense for real trouble ! To be rewarded with a bubble. Thus soldiers, who in many battles Get bangs and blows, and God knows what else, Are paid with fame and wooden leg, And gain a pass, with leave to beg. VISIT OF A KING TO A CATHEDRAL (PINDAR.) OOMETIMES, great kings will condescend A little with their subjects to unbend ! VISIT OF A KING TO A CATHEDRAL. 113 An instance take : — A king of this great land, In days of yore, we understand, Did visit Sal'sbury's old church so fair : An*parl of Pembroke vvas the monarch's guide ; Incog, they travell'd, shuffling side by side ■ And into the cathedral stole the pair. The verger met them in his blue silk gown, And humbly bow'd his neck with rev'rence down, Low as an ass to lick a lock of hay : Looking the frighted verger through and through, All with his eye-glass — u Well sir, who are you ? " What, what, sir ?— hey, sir ?" deign'd the king to say. " I am the verger here most mighty king: li In this cathedral I do ev'ry thing ; " Sweep it, an't please ye, sir, and keep it clean." " Hey ? verger ! verger! — you the verger ? hey?"' " Yes please your glorious majesty I be," The verger answer'd, with the mildest mien. Then turn'd the king about towards the peer, And wink'd and laugh'd ; then whisper'd in his ear, " Hey r hey — what, what — fine fellow, 'pon ray word : " I '11 knight him, knight him, knight him — hey, my « lord ?" Then with his glass, as hard as eye could strain, He kenn'd the trembling verger o'er again. " He 's a poor verger, sire," his lordship cry'd : " Sixpence would handsomely requite him." " Poor verger, verger, hey?" the king reply'd: " No, no, then, we won't knight him — no, won't " knight him. Now to the lofty roof the king did raise His glass, and skipp'd it o'er with sounds of praise For thus his marv'ling majesty did speak.; T ° 114 THE DOCTOR AND HIS APPRENTICE. " Fine roof this, master verger, quite complete ; " High — high and lofty too, and clean and neat : u What, verger, what ? mop, mop it once a week ?' : " An't please your majesty," with marv'ling chops. The verger answer'd, " we have got no mops " In Sal'sb'ry that will reach so high.'* ; ' Not mop, no, no, not mop it," quoth the king- — " No, sir, our Sal'sb'ry mops do no such thing ; " They might as well pretend to scrub the sky.' 5 THE DOCTOR AND HIS APPRENTICE. J\. PUPIL of the i&sculapian school Was just prepar'd to quit his master's rule ; Not that he knew his trade, as it appears, But that he then had learnt it seven veal's. Yet think not that in knowledge he was chcated- A1I that he had to study still, s, when a man was well or ill, I how, if sick, he should be treated. One morn he thus address'd his master — u Dear sir, my honor'd father bids me say, " If I could now and then a visit pay, " He thinks, with you, " To notice how you do, u My bus'ness I might learn a little faster/' •< The thought is happy," the preceptor cries ; -< A better method he could scarce devise ; '< So Bob, (his pupil's name) it shall be so, •' And when I next pay visits you shall go." To bring that hour, alas ! time briskly fled : With dire intent, Away they went, \m\ now behold them at a patient's bed. THE DOCTOR AND HIS APPRENTICE. 11. The master-doctor solemnly perus'd His victim's face, and o'er his symptoms mus'd ; Look'd wise, said nothing — an unerring way, Wheij people nothing have to say : Then felt his pulse, and smelt his cane, And paus'd and blink'd, and smelt again, And briefly of his corps perform each motion : Manoeuvres that for death's platoon are meant, A kind of a make ready and present, Before the fell discharge of pill and potion. At length the patient's wife he thus address'd : " Madam, your husband's danger 's great ; " And (what will never his complaint abate) " The man 's been eating oysters I perceive' " Dear ! you 're a witch, I verily believe," Madam replied, and to the truth confess'd. Skill so prodigious Bobby too admir'd ; And home returning, of the sage inquir'd How these same oysters came into his head ; " Psha ! my dear Bob, the thing was plain — " Sure that can ne'er distress thy brain: " I saw the shells lie underneath the bed I" So wise by such a lesson grown, Next day Bob ventur'd forth alone, And to the self-same suff'rer paid his court But soon, with haste and wonder out of breath, Return'd the stripling minister of death, And to his master made this dread report : u Why sir, we ne'er can keep that patient under— " Zounds ! such a maw I never came across ! " The fellow must be dying, and no wonder, " For — if he has n't eat a horse !" *< A horse 1" the elder man of physic cried, As if he meant his pupil to deride — 116 ON THE DEATH OF A BLACKSMITH a How came so wild a notion in your head ?" u How ! think not in my duty I was idle ; u Like you, I took a peep beneath the bed, " And there I saw — a saddle and a bridle VI ON THE DEATH OF A BLACKSMITH. W: ITH the nerves of a Sampson, this son of the sledge, By the anvil his livelihood got, With the skill of a Vulcan could temper an edge, And strike — while the iron was hot. By forging he liv'd — yet never was tried Or condemn'd by the laws of the land ; But still it is certain, and can't be denied, He often was — burnt in the hand. With the sons of St. Crispin no kindred he claim'd? With the last he had nothing to do ; He handled no awl, and yet in his time Made many an excellent shoe. He blew up no coals of sedition, but still His bellows were always in blast ; And I will acknowledge (deny it who will) That one vice, and but one, he possess'd. No actor was he, nor concern'd with the stage, No audience to awe him appear'd ; Yet oft in his shop (like a crowd in a rage) The voice of hissing was heard. Tho' steeling of axes was part of his cares, In thieving he never was found, And tho* he was constantly beating on bars* No vessel he e'er ran aground. THE WELL OF ST. KEYNE. 117 Alas ! and alack ! what more can I say Of Vulcan's unfortunate son ? The priest and the sexton have borne him away, And the sound of his hammer is done. THE WELL OF ST. KEYNE. The reported virtue of the -water is this, that whether husband or wife come first to drink thereof, they get the mattery thereby. J\. WELL there is in the west country, And a clearer one never was seen ; There is not a wife in the west country But has heard of the well of St. Keyne An oak and an elm tree stand beside, And behind does an ash tree grow, And a willow from the bank above Droops to the water below. A traveller came to the well of St. Keyne ; Joyfully he drew nig-h, For from cock-crow he had been travelling*, And there was not a cloud in the sky. lie drank of the water so cool and clear,' For thirsty and hot was he, And he sat down upon the bank, Under the willow tree. There came a man from the neighbouring town At the well to fill his pail ; On the well-side he rested it, And he bade the stranger hail. Now art thou a batchelor, stranger ? quoth he, For, an if thou hast a wife, The happiest draught thou hast drank this day, That ever thou didst in thy life. 118 THE FAKENHAM GHOST. Or hast thy good-woman, if one thou hast, Ever here in Cornwall been ? For an if she have, I '11 venture my life She has drank of the well of St. Keyne. I have left a good woman who never was here, The stranger he made reply, But that my draught should be better for that, I pray you answer me why. St. Keyne, quoth the countryman, many a time Drank of this chrystal well, And before the angel summoned her, She laid on the water a spell. If the husband of this gifted well Shall drink before his wife, A happy man thenceforth is he, For he shall be master for life. But if the wife should drink of it first — God help the husband then ! The stranger stoop'd to the well of St. Keyne, And drank of the water again. You drank of the well, I warrant, betimes ? He to the countryman said ; But the countryman smiFd as the stranger spake, And sheepishly shook his head. I hasten'd as soon as the wedding was done, And left my wife in the porch ; But i' faith she had been wiser than me, For she took a bottle to church. THE FAKENHAM GHOST. (bloomfield.) A HE lawns were dry in Euston Park ; (Here truth inspires my tale) THE FAKEKHAM GH0S1 119 The lonely foot-path still and dark, Led over hill and dale. Benighted was an ancient dame, And fearful haste she made To gain the vale of Fakenham, And hail its willow shade. Her footsteps knew no idle stops, But follow'd faster still ; And echo'd to the darksome copse That whisper'd on the hill. Where clam'rous rooks, yet scarcely hush'd, Bespoke a people'd shade ; And many a wing the foliage brush'd, And hov'ring circuits made. The dappled herd of grazing deer That sought the shades by day, Now started from her path with fear, And gave the stranger way. Darker it grew ; and darker fears Came o'er her troubled mind ; When now, a short quick step she hears Come patting close behind. She tum'd ; it stopt ! — nought could she see Upon the gloomy plain But as she strove the sprite to flee, She heard the same again. Now terror seiz'd her quaking frame : For, where the path was bare, The trotting ghost kept on the same ! She mutter'd many a prayer. Vet once again, amidst her fright, She tried what sight could do ; 120 THE FAKENHAM GHOST. When through the cheating glooms of night A monster stood in view. Regardless of whate'er she felt, It follow'd down the plain ! She own'd her sins, and down she knelt, And said her prayers again. Then on she sped ; and hope grew strong, The white park gate in view ; Which pushing hard, so long it swung That ghost and all pass'd through. Loud fell the gate against the post ! Her heart-strings like to crack : For much she fear'd the grisly ghost Would leap upon her back. Still on, pat, pat, the goblin went, As it had done before ; Her strength and resolution spent, She fainted at the door. Out came her husband, much surpris'd : Out came her daughter dear ; Good-natur'd souls ! all unadvis'd Of what they had to fear. The candle 's gleam pierc'd through the night, Some short space o'er the green ; And there the little trotting sprite Distinctly might be seen. An ass's foal had lost its dam Within the spacious park ; And, simple as the playful lamb, Had foliow'd in the dark. No goblin he ; no imp of sin : No crimes had ever known. REPORT OF AN ADJUDGED CASE. 121 They took the shaggy stranger in, And rear'd him as their own. His little hoofs would rattle round Upon the cottage floor : The matron learn'd to love the sound That frightened her before. A favourite the ghost became ; And 'twas his fate to thrive: And long he liv'd, and spread his fame, And kept the joke alive. Tor many a laugh went through the vale, And some conviction too : — Each thought some other goblin tale, Perhaps, was just as true. REPORT OF AN ADJUDGED CASE. (COWPER.) JlJ ET WEEN nose and eyes a strange contest arose^ The spectacles set them unhappily wrong ; The point in dispute was, as all the world knows, To which the said spectacles ought to belong. So the tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause, With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learn- ing ; While chief baron ear sat to balance the laws, So fam'd for his talent in nicely discerning. In behalf of the nose, it will quickly appear, And your lordship, he said, will undoubtedly find. That the nose has had spectacles always in wear, Which amounts to possession time out of mind. M 1 22 CANUTE AND THE OCEA.N . Then, holding the spectacles up to the court — Your lordship observes they are made with a straddle, As wide as the ridge of the nose is ; in short, Design'd to sit close to it, just like a saddle. Again, would your lordship a moment suppose ('Tis a case that has happen'd, and may be again) That the visage or countenance had not a nose, Pray who would or who could wear spectacles then ? On the whole it appears, and my argument shews, With a reasoning the court will never condemn, That the spectacles plainly w r ere made for the nose, And the nose was as plainly intended for them. Then shifting his side, as a lawyer knows how, He pleaded again in behalf of the eyes ; But what were his arguments few people know, k For the court did not think they were equally wise. So his lordship decreed, with a grave solemn tone, Decisive and clear, without one if or but — That whenever the nose put his spectacles on, By day -light or candle-light — eyes should be shut. CANUTE AND THE OCEAN. (riNDAE.) V^ANUTE was by his nobles taught, to fancy. That, by a kind of royal necromancy, He had the pow'r, old Oeean to controul ; Down rush'd the royal Dane upon the strand, And issu'd, like a Solomon, command : Poor soul ! CANUTE AND THE OCEAN. 12 ! Go back, ye waves, ye blustering rogues 1 (quoth he'. - Touch not your lord and master, Sea 1 — 1 For, by my pow'r almighty, if you do ;' Then staring vengeance, — out he held a stick, Vowing to drive old Ocean to old nick, Should he ev'n wet the latchet of his shoe. The Sea retir'd: the monarch fierce rush'd on, And look'd, as if he 'd drive him from the land ; But Sea, not caring to be put upon, Made, for a moment, a bold stand ; Not only made a stand did Mr. Ocean, But to his honest waves he made a motion, And bid them give the king a hearty trimming ; The orders seem'd a deal the waves to tickle : For soon they put his majesty in pickle ; And set his royalties, like geese, a swimming. All hands aloft, with one tremendous roar ; Soon did they make him wish himself on shore ; Flis head and ears most handsomely they dous'd ; Just like a porpoise, with one gen'ral shout, The waves so tumbled the poor king about; No Anabaptist e'er was half so sous'd. At length to land he crawl'd, a half-drown'd thing. Indeed more like a crab, than like a king; And found his courtiers making rueful faces. But what said Canute to the lords and gentry, "Who haii'd him from the water, on his entry, All trembling for their lives or places ? * ?>Iy lords, and gentlemen, by your advice, 4 I 've had, with Mr. Sea, a pretty bustle ; * My treatment from my foe not over-nice, ' Just made a jest for every shrimp and muscle : " A pretty trick for one of my dominion ! * My lords, I thank you for your great opinion. 124 You '11 say, perhaps, I 've lost one game, ' And bid me try another — for the rubber — Permit me to inform you all, with shame, i That you 're a set of knaves, and I'ma lubber.' H. THE BREWER'S COACHMAN. ( TAYLOR.) .ONEST William, an easy and good-natur'd fel- low, Would a little too oft get a little too mellow, Body coachman was he to an eminent brewer- No better e'er sat on a box, to be sure. His coach was kept clean, and no mothers or nurses Took that care of their babes that he took of his horses. Me had these — ay, and fifty good qualities more ; But the business of tififiUng could ne'er be got o'er : So his master effectually mended the matter, By hiring a man who drank nothing but water. Now, William, says he, you see the plain case ; Had you drank as he does, you'd kept a good place. Drink water! quoth William — had all men done so, You 'd never have wanted a coachman, I trow. They 're soakers, like me, whom you load with re- proaches, That enable you brewers to ride in your coach' C REPARTEE. (swift.) R1ES Sylvia to a reverend dean, What reason can be given, Since marriage is a holy thing, That there are none in heaven There are no women, he replied. She quick returns the jest — Women there are, but I 'm afraid They cannot find a priest. 125 CURIOSITY. (PINDAK.) W ALKING one afternoon along the strand, My wond'ring eyes did suddenly expand Upon a pretty leash of country lasses. " Heav'ns I my dear beauteous angels, how d'ye do ? " Upon my soul, I'm monstrous glad to see ye." -" Swinge ! Peter we are glad to meet with you ; <* We 're just to London come — well, pray, how be ye ? " We 're just a going, while 'tis light, " To see St. Paul's, before 'tis dark. vi Lord ! come — for once, be so polite, " And condescend to be our spark." k * With all my heart, my angels." — On we walk'd, And much of London — much of Cornwall talk'd : Now did I hug myself, to think How much that glorious structure would surprise — How from its awful grandeur they would shrink, With open mouths, and marv'ling eyes ! As near to Ludgate-hill we drew, St. Paul's just op'ning on our view ; Behold, my lovely strangers, one and all, Gave, all at once, a diabolic squall, As if they had been tumbled on the stones, And some confounded cart had crush'd their bones. After well fright'ning people with their cries, And sticking to a ribbon shop their eyes — They all rush'd in, with sounds enough to stun — And clatt'ring all together, thus begun. " Swinge ! here are colours then to please ! " Delightful things, I vow to Heav'n I m 2 :• :g disappointed husband. * Why ! not to see such things as these, " We never should have been forgiv'n. " Here, here, are clever things — good Lord ! " And, sister, here, upon my word — u Here, here ! look ! here are beauties to delight ; " Why ! how a body's heels might dance " Along, from Launceston to Penzance, rt Before that one might meet with such a sight !" <; Come, ladies, 't will be dark," cry'd I — " I fear ; " Pray, let us view St. Paul's, it is so near" — " Lord ! Peter, (cry'd the girls) do n't mind St. Paul ! '* Sure ! you 're a most incurious soul — " Why, we can see the church another day : " Don't be afraid, St. Paul's can't run away." DISAPPOINTED HUSBAND. ix SCOLDING wife so long a sleep possess'd, I ler spouse presum'd her soul was now at rest ; Sable was call'd to hang the room with black, And all their cheer was sugar, rolls and sack. Two mourning staffs stood sentry at the door, And silence reign'd, who ne'er was there before ; The cloaks, and tears, and handkerchiefs prepar'd, They march'd in woeful pomp to the church-yard? When see, of narrow streets, what mischiefs come ! The very dead can't pass in quiet home ; By some rude jolt the coffin lid was broke, And madam from her dream of death awoke. Now all was spoil'd ! the undertaker's pay, Sour faces, cakes and wine quite thrown away. But some years after, when the former scene Was acted, and the coffin nail'd again ; The tender husband took especial care To keep the passage from disturbance clear ; Charging the bearers that they tread aright, Nor put his dear in such another fright! ODE TO A MARGATE HOY (PINDAR.) Great is the loss of gentlefolks from Wapping, Who, fond of travel, unto Margate roam, To gain that consequence they want at home. At Margate how like quality they strut ! Nothing is good enough to greet their jaws; Yet, when at home, are often forced, God wot, To suck like bears a dinner from their paws — Forc'd on an old joint-stool their tea to take, With treacle 'stead of sugar for their gums; Butt'ring their hungry loaf, or oaten cake, Like nighty Charles of Sweden, with their thumbs. But Hoy, inform me — who is she — on board, That seems the lady of a first-rate Lord, With stomach high push'd forth as if in scorn, Like craws of ducks and geese o'ercharged with corn — Dress'd in a glaring, gorgeous damask gown, Which, roses, like the leaves of cabbage, crown , With also a bright petticoat of pink, To make the eye from such a lustre shrink ? Yes, who is she the Patagonian dame, As bulky as of Heideldberg the tun ; Her face, as if by brandy taught to flame, In blaze superior to the noonday sun — With fingers just like sausages, fat things ; And loaded much like curtain rods with rings ? Yes, who is the that with a squinting eye Surveys poor passengers that sick'ning sigh ; Sad, pale-nos'd, gaping, puling, mournful faces. Deserted by the blooming smiling graces ; 128 ODE TO A MARCxATE HOY. That, reaching o'er thy side, so doleful throw The stomach's treasure to the fish below ? 'Tis Madam Bacon, proud of worldly goods, Whose first spouse shav'd and bled — drew teeth, made wigs ; Who, having by her tongue destroy'd poor Suds, Married a wight that educated pigs I But hark ! she speaks ! extremely like a man! Raising a furious tempest with her fan — " Why, captain, what a beastly ship ! good God ! " Why, captain, this indeed is very odd ! li Why, what a grunting dirty pack of doings ! " For heaven's sake, captain, stop the creatures' sp gs." Now hark ! the captain answers — " Mistress Bacon, u I own I can't be with such matters taken ; " I likes not vomitings no more than you ; " But if so be that gentlefolks be sick, " A woman hath the bowels of Old Nick, " Poor souls, to bung their mouths— 't were like a Jew." Majestic Mistress Bacon speaks agen ! — " Folks have no bus'ness to make others sick : " I don't know, Mister captain, what you mean " About your Jews, and bowels of Old Nick : " If all your cattle will such hubbub keep, " I know that I shall leave your stinking ship. M Some folks have dev'lish dainty guts, good Lord I " What bus'ness have such cattle here aboard ? " Such gang indeed to foreign places roam ! " 'Tis more becoming them to sp-w at home." But hark ! the captain /iro/ierly replies — " Why, what a breeze is here, G-d d-mn my eyes I THE BOY AND THE BAKER. 129 '* God bless us, Mistress Bacon ! who are you ? u Zounds, Ma'am^ I say, my passengers shah THE BOY AND THE BAKER. (c. I. PITT.) V/NCE, when monopoly had made As bad as now the eating trade, A boy went to a baker's shop, His gnawing appetite to stop : A loaf for tvoo-pence there demanded, And down a timj loaf was handed. The boy survey'd it round and round, With many a shrug, and look profound : At length — " Why, master," said the wight, " This loaf is very, very light /" The baker, his complaint to parry, Replied, with look most archly dry, While quirk conceit sat squinting on his eye — " Light, boy ? then you 've the less to carry /" The boy grinn'd plaudits to his joke, And on the counter laid down rhino, With mien, that plainly all but spoke — " With you I '11 soon be even, I know." Then took his loaf, and went his way ; But soon the baker bawl'd him back — u You 've laid down but three half-jience Jack ! " And two-pence was the loaf's amount. How 's this, you cheating rascal, hey . ? " — " Sir," says the boy, " you've less to count 1" Thus modern wits against each other fight, In point deficient, and in substance light ; But so profuse and ponderous are their stores, To count or carry, strength and patience bores I Y. 130 THE OLD CHEESE^ (king.) OUXG Slouch the farmer had a jolly wife, That knew all the conveniences of life, Whose diligence and cleanliness supplied The wit which nature had to him denied : But then she had a tongue that would be heard, And make a better man than Slouch afeard. This made censorious persons of the town Say, Slouch could hardly call his soul his own ; For, if he went abroad too much, she 'd use To give him slippers and lock up his shoes. Talking he lov'd, and ne'er was more afflicted Than when he was disturb'd or contradicted ; Yet still into his story she would break With — " 'Tis not so ; pray give me leave to speak/' His friends thought this was a tyrannic rule, Not difl 'ring much from calling of him fool ; Told him he must exert himself, and be In fact the nlaster of his family. He said, " That the next Tuesday noon would shew u Whether he were the lord at home or no ; u When their good company he would entreat " To weli-brew'd ale, and clean if homely meat." With aching heart home to his wife he goes, And on his knees does his rash act disclose ; And prays dear Sukey, that one day at least, He might appear as master of the feast. " I '11 grant your wish," cries she, " that you may see " 'Twere wisdom to be govern'd still by me." The guests upon the day appointed came, Each bowsy farmer with his simp'ring dame. " Ho, Sue !" cries Slouch, " why dost not thou ap- pear ? " Are these thy manners when aunt Snap is here ?'* THE OLD CHEESE 131 " I pardon ask," says Sue ; " 1 'd not offend " Any my dear invites, much less his friend." Slouch by his kinsman Gruffy had been taught To entertain his friends by finding fault, And make the main ingredient of his treat His saying — " There was nothing fit to eat : " The boil'd pork stinks, the roast beef's not enough, u The bacon 's rusty, and the hens are tough ; " The veal 's all rags, the butter 's turn'd to oil ; " And thus I buy good meat for sluts to spoil. u 'T is we are the first Slouches ever sat " Down to a pudding without plumbs or fat. " What teeth or stomach 's strong enough to feed " Upon a goose my grannum kept to breed ? " Why must old pigeons, and they stale be drest, * v When there 's so many squab ones in the nest ? u This beer is sour ; 't is musty, thick, and stale, " And worse than any thing except the ale." Sue all this while many excuses made : Some things she own'd ; at other times she The fault on chance, but oft'ner on the maid e laid L id. | Then cheese was brought. Says Slouch — " This e'en shall roll ; " I 'm sure 't is hard enough to make a bowl : " This is skim-milk, and therefore it shall go; kt And this, because 't is Suffolk, follow too." But now Sue's patience did begin to waste ; Nor longer could dissimulation last. " Pray let me rise," says Sue, "my dear ; I '11 find " A cheese perhaps may be to lovy's mind." Then in an entry standing close, where he Alone, and none of all his friends, might see ; And brandishing a cudgel he had felt, And far enough on this occasion smelt — " I '11 try, my joy," she cried, " if I can please "My dearest with a taste of his old cheese 1" 132 Slouch turn'd* his head, saw his wife's vigorous hand, Wielding her oaken sapling of command, Knew well the twang — " Is 't the old cheese my" dear ?" " No need, no need of cheese," cries Slouch « I '11 swear, " I think I 've din'd as well as my lord mayor !" EPIGRAM. (port folio.) A. STINGY fellow, 'tis no matter who, Had, u once upon a time," some work to do ; He told a man, they called him Sam, I think, That if he 'd do this job, he 'd give him drink, Such as could not in any place be sold, For it was then exactly ten years old. The work is done, the miser gives the dram, " How old do you call dis Massa, says poor Sam, " Ten years exactly," — " Ten years 1" in a rage Says Sam, " He be damn little of his age." A COLLEGE STORY. (freseau.) J\. SON of a college for science renowned, W ho long had been reading and reading, and reading Huge volumes as dry as the deserts of Zaara, \\ ith abstinence much, and little good feeding, At length became fond of a glass of Madeira, Beer, brandy, or porter — whatever was found : One Saturday evening, when socially met With friends to his liking, called fellows of college. Each drank off' his toast in a bumper of wine 'Till mirth had the better of reason and knowledge : THE ANT AND THE GRASSHOPPER. ISo This orderly, decent, exemplary set Then talked away cheerly 'till two of the clock,' 'Till their eyes, like the eyes of old Moses, did shine When he came from the mount, and the cliffs of his rock, At the sins of the people to fume and to fret. Now the bell striking three, they agreed to adjourn ; Each bound to his lodging by different roads ; But the son of the college by quaffing too much, Lost his path, and got into the dead men's abodes ; Where Irish and English, Columbians and Dutch Had agreed to lie down, without quarrels or feuds. He stumbled and tumbled, stubbed toes, broke his shins, And next with a head-stone disabled his head ; Though the night was as dark as in Egypt of old He discovered, at last he had got with the dead ; There jammed like a wedge by a couple of tombs, An effort he made to dislodge — but in vain ; Old Bacchus had stowed him so snug in his bed, That the church might as soon have been raised up again. W T hen thus the poor fellow was heard with a groan To say, as he lay by strong liquor oppressed, Well, well, I sup /lose if they let me alone In time, I may chance to get up with the rest. THE ANT AND THE GRASSHOPPER. A GRASSHOPPER had chaunted it away, Each summer's day : Now that cold weather was set in, Began to look most piteous thin. Away she hopp'd to see her neighbour th' ant, And begg'd some small relief she 'd grant N 134 THE PEASANT AND HIS ASS From her abundant store ; Or else, e'er half the winter o'er, She needs must die for want ; And faith and troth she swore The loan with int'rest to restore By autumn next — if not before. Your ants they never lend on trust: Our housewife was devout as well as just ; T' encourage sloth she held a crime. How did you spend, quoth she, the harvest time I And please you, night and day I tun'd my song T' amuse the travellers that pass'd along. Oh, ho ! and so you sung the summer out : Yes, Ma'am. Why that was wond'rous wise ! And now that winter's come, might I advise E'en dance about ; You '11 have at least, the comfort for 't, To 've led a merry life, though short. THE PEASANT AND HIS ASS. x\.S on the road a peasant drove his ass, He spi'd a meadow rich in grass ; And tho' he had no right to do it, He dar'd the pound, and turn'd the beast into it The jack-ass, charm'd at such a treat, With choice to crop and time to eat, Graz'd here and there the field all over, Then prane'd and rear'd and toss'd his head. And in the thick on't made his bed, Like one that 's nurs'd in clover. Amidst this jubilee the foe appears ; The clown cries out, Haste, haste away ! At which our ass prick'd up his ears, And bray'd, No friend, I choose to stay : Will those folks load a double pack Upon my back ? THE INDIAN CONVERT. 13. Why, no. — Then what is it to me, If I belong to them or thee ? You may by flight your freedom save, If you disdain to be a slave. For me it is no new disaster ; Nor do I know The thing that I can call my foe, Except my master. THE INDIAN CONVERT. (freneau.) A N Indian, who lived at Muskingum remote, Was teazed by a parson to join his dear flock, To throw off his blanket and put on a coat , And of grace and religion to lay in a slock. The Indian long slighted an offer so fair, Preferring to preaching his fishing and fowling; A sermon to him was a heart full of care, And singing but little superior to howling. At last by persuasion and constant harassing Our Indian was brought to consent to be good; He saw that the malice of Satan was pressing, And the means to repel him not yet understood. Of heaven, one day when the parson was speaking, And painting the beautiful things of the place, The convert, who something substantial was seeking, Rose up and confessed he had doubts in the case — Said he Master JVEnister, this place that you talk of, Of things for the stomach, pray what has it got ; Has it liquors in plenty ? — If so I '11 soon walk off And put myself down in the heavenly spot. 136 THE CLOWN'S REPLY. You fool (said the preacher) no liquors are there . The place I 'm describing is most like our meeting. Good people, all singing, with preaching and prayer ; They live upon these without eating or drinking. But the doors are all locked against folks that are wicked ; And you, I am fearful, will never get there ; — A life of repentence must purchase the ticket, And few of you, Indians, can buy it, I fear. Farewel (said the Indian) I 'm none of your mess ; On victuals, so airy, I faintish should feel, I cannot consent to be lodged in a place Where there '.s nothing to eat and but little to steal. THE CLOWN'S REPLY. (goldsmith.) J OHN Trott was desir'd by two witty peers, To tell them the reason why Asses had ears ? " An't please you," quoth John, " I 'm not given to letters, u Nor dare I pretend to know more than my betters ; " Howe'er from this time I shall ne'er see your graces, " As I hope to be sav'd! without thinking on asses!" THE END < " ' "i