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to such topsy-turvy reverses as those experienced on legal and political eminences, where men, however high their carriage may be, are in danger every hour of being overset. The Archbishop not being at hand to offer up thanksgivings, our travellers prayed as well as they could for themselves; and, after clearing each other from the filth that adhered to their clothes and persons, they left the chariot in charge of the servants, and journeyed on very lovingly together on foot, with the design of procuring a chaise at the next inn. But it was decreed that their misfortunes should not terminate so easily; and they were doomed to experience other strange adventures before they reached their journey's end. They had not proceeded far on their way, till they were passed on the Heath by a stage-coach. In this vehicle they instantly resolved to secure a seat as far as Hounslow, and accordingly pursued it with all the speed they were masters of, bellowing the while, "Stop, coach! Stop, coach!" But Jarvis, having caught a glimpse of them as he drove along, was in no hurry to stop at their call; but the more they roared and ran, the more furiously did he drive: for, seeing the one a stout, athleticlooking man, hobbling as if he had long and often. been accustomed to wear the darbies (vide Slang Lexicon for double irons), and the little one, as he supposed, from the darkness of his complexion, with a mask or crape over his face, poor Coachee had not the slightest doubt but that they were a brace of footpads. To escape them was his most earnest desire; and truly ludicrous was it to see the anxiety and terror of his countenance while he belaboured the wretched steeds with his whip, broke the footboard by the violence of his stamping, and awoke dull echo by the loudness of his histing, jee-whoing, and jee-uping. But vain his exertions-the pursuing Ministers gained fast upon his jaded cattle, and had just got check by

!

jow!

THE DOWNFALL OF MINISTERS.

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jowl with the stage-coach, when an inside passenger discharged a horse-pistol at their heads. Now, whether it was that fear palsied his hand and destroyed the correctness of his aim, or whether it was that the bullet was repelled by the harder head of the stout man, and glanced ineffectually off into the air; certain it is, that our terrified Ministers sustained no damage on the occasion. The unexpected salutation, however, arrested their course, and they stood statuelike, struck with astonishment and dismay. Under these circumstances, the coach would soon have been beyond their hopes, had not the horses, startled by the report of the pistol, plunged and fallen. Now it was that a scene of horror ensued, that to describe would have done honour to the pen of a Smollett. Screams, shrieks, and groans, formed a horrible concert-passengers inside and out praying for mercy from the fancied robbers, who themselves were almost as much frightened as the most timid of them. Never was there a more delectable treat for a humourist !— At length, however, matters were explained by the Chancellor of the Exchequer, who, as spokesman, informed the natives who he and his companion were, and assured them, that, though they were evidently Blacklegs, upon his word of honour they were not thieves; and that, though Clerk of the Irons, he knew nothing at all about the darbies. These assertions the people doubted; but, not knowing how to get rid of their unwelcome visitors, they consented to their accompanying them to the inn, putting their trust in Providence, that when they came there their deeds would be brought to light, and they would be released from their intolerable presence and superiority.

EPIGRAM.

EPIGRAM.

[From the Morning Chronicle, Nov. 6.]

WHAT better reason can you guess,

Why men are poor and ladies thinner

But thousands now for dinner dress,
Till nothing's left to dress for dinner?

MARTINUS SCRIBLERUS.

GEORGE COOKE, THE ACTOR, AND THE
YELLOW FEVER.

A DRAMATIC CONFESSION, UPON THE SHORES OF THE ATLANTIC, AT NEW YORK.

[From the Morning Herald, Nov. 7.]

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"Here am I in Arden, the more fool I;
When I was at home I was in a much better place.”

WE

A THEATRICAL VISION.

WE were pondering upon the eccentric movements of this extraordinary Comedian, until we fell into a profound sleep, and imagined that we saw him sitting upon the edge of Long Island, near Tyler's Bathing-house, with his head resting upon his hand, and looking anxiously, with tears in his eyes, toward the E. N. E. like Caius Marius in a state of banishment!-Ever and anon he started, and sang his grief in the following fragments and parodies; while the north-west wind (which is not among the gentlest of the Eolian family) beat against his tattered skull, and dishevelled the economy of his wig most rudely.

PANG THE FIRST.

"CARE flies from the lad that is merry,
Whose heart is as sound,

And whose cheeks are as round,
Ay, as round and as red as a cherry."

Yet

COOKE AND THE YELLOW FEVER.

Yet I, by the Mass, am not merry;
For though my heart's sound,
My cheeks are not round,
And I'm sour as any gooseberry!

PANG THE second.

"I ne'er will go abroad again,

Nor either will I roam;

For he is but a silly oaf

Who wanders far from home.
"There's nine in ten of Englishmen,
Who through these regions roam,
Though craz'd in mind, they 'll never find,
That worth they left at home."

PANG THE THIRD AND LAST.

To the Tune of " I that once was a Plowman."

I that once was an Actor, a Stroller am now;
There's no crow that e'er caw'd in the sky,
To see grubs and mollusca turn'd up by the plough,
Was so gay and so careless as I!

But my friend was a Manager, and liv'd at New York,
And he begg'd me to go and take shipping at Cork;
And so teasing did keep,

449

That I left Covent Garden to plough the salt deep.
Now no more shall the Prompter brawl thus in the morn-
"Get up, and be d-d to you, George Cooke, d'ye mind,
And leave all your fleas and vagaries behind."

I had scarce been on shipboard, and got snug in my berth,
When a gale of wind sprung up in the night;

Such a sea struck the vessel as extinguish'd my mirth,
For it pitch'd me on the floor, in affright!

Then I scrambled up the hatchway, and fell over some planks, Which tore half a yard of skin from my miserable shanks. "Ah!" cried I, "who would roam,

When they've got fame, and fortune, and good brandy, at home?

Now no more shall I share some purl-hot at the Brown Bear; But puke o'er the ship's side, and be sicker at my heart Than when any modern dramatist brings me a new part!"

As

As I wak'd t' other morning, after half an hour's rest,
While Phoebus leer'd into my room,

I saw myriads of bugs scudding over my breast,
Just like pilgrims tow'rds Mahomet's tomb!
But I lifted my arm, and tremendously swore,

And annull'd them, by legions, and scatter'd the whole corps.
Yet the stench that arose even agoniz'd my nose;
So I threw away my shirt,

And skulk'd, like a nudity, besmear'd, but unhurt;
WhilesweetDecency I pray'd to come and mop me,likea maid±
Curse light upon the Manager, and a south-eastern wind,
That made me go and leave Johnny Bull behind!

But, lo ! a wan spectre, green, yellow, and grim,
Which they call Yellow Fever so dread,

Grins, and beckons poor George from the Atlantie's brim,
And shakes her fell fist at my head!

"George Cooke, ay George Cooke, it's to you, man, I call,"
Squeaks the damnable fiend, so lank, fetid, and tall;
"Leave your curs'd l'eau de vie, and come along with me.'
And so potently she spake,

That I walk'd to her arms, like a sparrow to a snake!
"Now your exit is near," roar'd this de'il in his ear;
Then she dash'd him in his grave, like a stone in a brook,
While Folly peep'd, and laugh'd, and cried, "Bon soir,
George Cooke!"

DE HOTTENTOT FENUS

TO THE GREAT LORD GRINWELL,

Who desire her to write him what she tink of dis Country*. [From the Morning Post, Nov. 9.]

MY GREAT LORD,

VEN you first ax me write you my tink on tings I hear, I no understood Inglis very well; but now I understand it better, I give my tink. I now see what you say quite right, I now see dat Inglish peoples

See vol. xiv. p. 269.

is

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