And says, for Cheese, come sir, discharge this

score ; Cot zounds, quoth he, what meanest these? D'ye think hur knows not Chalk from Cheese?

* * * * * * * * * *


AID a sailor, kind Sirs, who once felt it his glory,

To fight for his country, his king to defend, O stop for a moment, and hear my sad story,

And deign when 'tis ended my wants to defend.

I once had a sweetheart, whose vows I shall never

Forget, when she said it would grieve her to part, And that happen what might she would love me

for ever, If time did not alter the worth of my heart. We set sail from Plymouth, a French ship gave us'

battle. And I was determin'd to conquer or die, Undaunted, around me I heard the balls rattle,

And lost in the contest an arm and an eye.

Yet I thought not the loss of a limb in my duty,

To Nancy or me wou'd a sorrow impart, One eye was still left me to gaze on her beauty, And I knew what she priz'd in me most was my


But when maim'd and in want I regain'd Plymouth

harbour, And Nancy beheld my unfortunate plight; Next morning she married Tom Halyard of Dover,

And bade me no more venture into her sight.

* * * * * * * * * *

THE passing bell was heard to toll,

John wail'd his loss with bitter cries,
The parson pray'd for Mary's soul,
The sexton hid her from all eyes.

And art thou gone?

Cry'd wretched John;
O dear, 't'will kill me---I am dying!

Cry'd neighbour Sly,

While standing by, “. Lord, how this world is giv'n to lying!" . The throng retir'd; John left alone,

He meditated 'mongst the tombs, And spelt out, on the mouldering stone, What friends were gone to their long homes..

" You're gone before,”

Cry’d John, “No more! "I shall come soon--- I'm almost dying!”

Cry'd neighbour Sly,

Still standing by, “Lord, how this world is giv'n to lying!" Here lie the bones, Heaven's will be done!

Of farmer Slug !---reader, would'st know Who to his mem'ry rais'd this stone: 'Twas his disconsolate widow !

Cry'd John, “Oh, ho,

"To her l'll go ;--“No doubt, with grief the widow's dying,".

Cry'd neighbour Sly,

Still standing by,
" Lord, how this world is giv'n to lying !" -
Their mutual grief was short and sweet!

Scarcely the passing bell had ceas'd,
When they sped :---the funeral meat
Was warm'd up for the marriage feast ::

They vow'd and swore,
Now o'er and o'er,


They' ne'er would part 'till both were dying!

Cry'd neighbour Sly,

Still standing by, “ Lord, how this world is giv'n to lying !" Again to hear the passing bell,

John now a sort of hank’ring feels; Again his help-mate brags how well She can trip up a husband's heels;

Again to the tomb

Each longs to come,
Again with tears, and sobs, and sighing,

For neighbour Sly,

Again to cry, “ Lord, how this world is giv'n to lying!”.

* * * * * * * * * *

THE TEA-TABLE. THE inquest is set for the tea-things they call, Miss Crab gave the kind invitation; Miss Verjuice, Miss Razor, Miss Spleen, and Miss

Tiff, Miss Hartshorn, Miss Scowl, and Miss Mump,

and Miss Miff, Miss Cholic, Miss Nose, and Miss Nerves, and

Miss Gall,
As a jury deliberate in grand consultation,
Not over such stuff as the affairs of the nation,
But over their neighbours' reputation.

Spoken.] Silence! You declare, by your forewoman, that you will, without hesitation, fear, or favour, rent, tear, split, tatter, fritter, transmogrify, torture, and disjoin the reputations, indifferentiy, of friends, foes, strangers, neighbours, young, old, rich, poor, married, single, handsome, ugly, short, or tall, and that you return an account of all the vices, absurdities, failings, caprices, follies, foibles, faults, .weaknesses, attachments, hobby,

horses, wanderings, and backslidings, without hesitation, fear, favour, partiality, or affection, as aforesaid. And this you, by your forewoman say, and so you say all.

Take the oath, kiss the cup,

And thus at each sup, As of folly and whim and caprice make a handle, While round go the muffin, the tea, and the scan


Like a torrent let loose now away go their tongues,
Swift as winds and as light as a feather,
New bonnets, the opera, Bath waters, the hour,
The auctions, the nation, the beasts in the tower;
And, as in succession they stretch out their lungs,
The country, black pin, matadores, and the wea-

In glorious confusion they jumble together,
And scandal let go to the end of its tether.

Spoken. ] How d’ye like your tea?--Vastly good-where do you buy it? I buy it at Congo's... Oh yes, I recollect the people that broke. Sad business that of the wife. Oh terrible, shocking woman for intrigue...I knew her from a girl always as amorous as a cat upon pantiles---And it is imposa sible to find her out, she has as many wigs as would serve to disguise a highwayman between Hounslow and Bagshot.. Sad example for the daughter. Great pity, pretty girl! Preity! Why, lord, ma'am, she's Aat-footed and hopper-hipped. Sad thing for the father, if you will....Very true; but lord, ma'am, what can you expect from such people, no fashion in life. The fellow was parter to an oil shop, used to carry out train oil, pickled herrings, zoobditty, match and wax flambeaux. I'll tell you a comical circumstance. No! true; well that's delightful! he, he, ha, haw,

And thus they sip and they sip,
Have their friends on the hip,


And of foibles, and faults, and caprices make a

handle, While round go the toast, the tea and the scandal. The tea is removed, and now grave and demure The case bottles are rang'd so judicious, Noyau, Ratifie, a la Teinture Vermeille, Eau d'Ore, de Mille Fleurs, Fleur de Lis Sans

Páreille, And every scarce and expensive liqueur ' They sip, and they sip, and each sip find delicious, 'Till they get rather whimsical, queer, and capri

cious, And their tongues it't be possible, grow more

malicious. Spoken. ] Bless me, I don't know what I was thinking of, I have a sort of vertigo, only look at Miss Cholic...She certainly had a little drop be-fore she came out, otherwise you see it is impossible. As for me now, who am not accustomed to these things, a thimbleful turns me quite topsyturvy. Well, ladies suppose we go to cards; with all my heart, but I shall insist upon you keeping your foot in your shoe. I dont name any body, but I do know people that hold up their fingers behind their fans. And I, madam, for I plainly see you mean me, I know of people too that when ? they are a little non se ipse--- I desire, ma'am, you" will make no reflections. I never indulge myself to an improper degree----I have heard of your Huskyba, to be sure.' Yes, ma'am, and tasted it : too. Why yes, I once took a tea spoonful just to oblige you : yes, and a bumper just to oblige yourself. Well, I declare this is beyond bearance.--Huskyba, indeed. Here Miss Nerves declared she should go into hysterics. At last the company interfeared; Miss Crab said there was nothing sour: in her disposition; Mis Gall said she did not like bitter invectives; Miss Cholic said it gave her pain that her friends should fall out in this manner. At which Miss Razor intreated leaye to notice, that..

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