Yet I, by the Mass, am not merry ; PANG THE SECOND, "I ne'er will go abroad again, For he is but a silly oaf Who wanders far from home. There's nine in ten of Englishmen, Cizd & BakiŔANG THE THIRD AND LAST. To the Tune of "I that once was a Plowman." I that once was an Actor, a Stroller am now; But my friend was a Manager, and liv'd at New York, That I left Covent Garden to plough the salt deep. I had scarce been on shipboard, and got snug in my berth, Such a sea struck the vessel ssel 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, I saw myriads of bugs scudding over my breast, And annull'd them, by legions, and scatter'd the whole corps. And skulk'd, like a nudity, besmear'd, but unhurt și 1% But, lo!a wan spectre, green, yellow, and grim, Ib 290 Grins, and beckons poor George from the Atlantic'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 dark, fetid, and tall "Leave your curs'd l'ean 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! 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. 9.1 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. D is ruined by King's Ministers, and I now tink em dise graced by de measures em dopt. Dey make beat de French, and help peoples oppressed, dat good. You tell me talents wanted, me tink no. Perhaps you mean talents want, me say yes" but let dem still want. what I hear, But I now tell you what I's Toder day man came here from debate-shop. Him open mouth and make cursed ugly face; den I tink he laugh me, and spit at him. He do it agen, den I claw face, and bite. Den I told it way he got, he no do it to make game me. I say it bud way, and wish him leave off dat and toder bad ways. Dis be no do Dey den tell me he want engage me; I laugh. He den introduce Beauty from Forum; I laugh at her, she so dam frightful. He den say he want me speak with her, at debate-shop; I say me no go where such a set. Den he grin, Beauty frown, me no care. Debate man repeat nonsense, he want me speak; I laugh, louder-he, fool, may go Newgate. I turn back on him, and send him out of room. Beauty faint; dat very common, she used to it. I give slap of face; she come back, get up, and say, "I rise blow you up, you dam Hottentot." I give her nother slap; she run out, and call Jack. Her leave an old wig behind, and little beggarly bag; cosmetic in it, and little cards-dem me told tickets of pawn man. Dat very bad; oh fie! She sad one. Den, my Lord, I hear great noise about report of Bullying Committee. Me told it false report. I no understand. All me know is Bullys made a Bull. Dat funny. Well, den I hear great row; I ask what about; dey tell me Gost. I say, what? Dey say, Gost of Sam Ford. It great oddity. Talk of showing it with me. Me no objection. Want to see Gost. See yol. xiv. p. 327. Dey Dey say slap and pinch. Me no fear dat. He fond of fair-sex, would like to see me. He only slap and pinch in dark. Me like to go to Sam Ford. Gost me know has done great tings. It been enough to make parson swear! r: Me here much of de play; great row been dere about O. P.: debate-shop say should not raise price; dat very good ven demselves raised admission to hear dere trash from sixpence to shilling. Dere many good tings in dis country; plenty money and plenty to eat de worst is de bread so dear; dey charge great deal for small loaf; dis very bad, as plenty of corn; must be bad rogues somewhere. Hang de rascals, or pillory, as toder day in the Haymarket. People tell me Mare look into it: if Mare look into it, why he not lower de bread more den penny, when ought to fall seven-pence? Dey' say baker bread-men be ruined if do, 'cause dey buy much flour at high price:whose fault dat?dey no obliged to run before market; dey buy when high, tinking it will be great deal more dear. Dey- fools to believe dat liar Cobbett and speculate. What business dey speculate? Me tink Mare ought to say, 16. If you' baker bread-men' gamble, must take conséquence; you no business to speculate if can't afford to run risk. What de devil right have you to expect de public to suffer because you fools? If ruined, serve you right. No tell me bread ought not fall dis week, 'cause must rise next; better say will be dear next year, so ought to sell at half crown dis. If you out in calculations like de Newgate bird, you is de peoples dat should suffer, and not de poor honest hard-work man; so no dam nonsense, lower de quartern loaf." Dat me tink should be said by Mare. T My Lord, your sarvant, A DE HOTTENTOT FENUS. WHIGS OR TORIES? OR, JOHN BULL AT BEING A POLITICAL HORNBOOK FOR PARLIAMENT-MEN, JOH [From the Morning Herald, Nov. 15.] OHN Bull, (poor wight!) oppress'd with evils, To Delphos took his troubles; To ask the bright responsive god, "I'm here," quoth John, " a willing elf, And do as I'm directed; I love my King, yet, dire mishap,' And sure my brain's infected. In good old times men spoke plain sense, This beats the foe, then yields his prey! My Prelates leave me in the lurch, Ah! call them to their rectories! My calculators bring their books, With fronts of brass, and swagg'ring looks, They swear I'm richer every day, Yet send my bullion all away, And leave me only-paper! Poor |