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sharp for the track of the wheel, and go forward till you come to farmer Murrain's barn. Coming to the farmer's barn, you are to turn to the right, and then to the left, and then to the right about again, till you find out the old mill

Mar. Zounds! man, we could as soon find out the longitude.

Hast. What's to be done, Marlow?

Mar. This house promises but a poor reception; though, perhaps, the landlord can accommodate us.

Land. Alack, master, we have but one spare bed in the whole house.

Tony. And, to my knowledge, that's taken up by three lodgers already. (After a pause, in which the rest seem disconcerted.) I have hit it: Don't you think, Stingo, our landlady would accommodate the gentlemen by the fireside, with three chairs and a bolster?

Hast. I hate sleeping by the fireside.

Mar. And I detest your three chairs and a bolster.

Tony. You do, do you? Then let me see what if you go on a mile farther, to the Buck's Head, the old Buck's Head, on the hill, one of the best inns in the whole country

Hast. Oh, ho! so we have escaped an adventure for this night, however.

Land. (aside to TONY). Sure you bean't sending them to your father's as an inn, be you?

Tony. Mum! you fool, you let them find that out. (To them.) You have only to keep on straight forward till you come to a large house on the roadside; you'll see a pair of large horns over the door; that's the sign. Drive up the yard, and call stoutly about you.

Hast. Sir, we are obliged to you. The servants can't miss the way?

Tony. No, no; but I tell you, though, the landlord is rich, and going to leave off business; so he wants to be thought a gentleman, saving your presence, he-he-he! He'll be for giving you his company; and, ecod! if you mind him, he'll persuade you that his mother was an alderman, and his aunt a justice of peace.

Land. A troublesome old blade, to be sure; but a' keeps as good wines and beds as any in the whole county.

Mar. Well, if he supplies us with these, we shall want no further connection. We are to turn to the right, did you say?

Tony. No, no-straight forward. I'll just step, myself, and show you a piece of the way. (To the LANDLORD.) Mum!" She Stoops to Conquer."

The Double Transformation

SECLUDED from domestic strife,
Jack Bookworm led a college life.
A fellowship at twenty-five
Made him the happiest man alive.
He drank his glass, and cracked his joke,
And freshmen wondered as he spoke.

Such pleasures, unalloyed with care,
Could any accident impair?
Could Cupid's shaft at length transfix
Our swain, arrived at thirty-six?

Oh, had the archer ne'er come down
To ravage in a country town!
Or Flavia been content to stop
At triumphs in a Fleet-street shop!
Oh, had her eyes forgot to blaze,
Or Jack had wanted eyes to gaze.
Oh!-but let exclamation cease,

Her presence banished all his peace.
So with decorum all things carried;

Miss frowned, and blushed, and then was-married.

Need we expose to vulgar sight

The raptures of the bridal night?
Need we intrude on hallowed ground,
Or draw the curtains close around?
Let it suffice that each had charms:
He clasped a goddess in his arms;
And though she felt his usage rough,
Yet in a man 'twas well enough.

The honeymoon like lightning flew;
The second brought its transports too.
A third, a fourth, were not amiss;
The fifth was friendship mixed with bliss.
But when a twelvemonth passed away,
Jack found his goddess made of clay;
Found half the charms that decked her face
Arose from powder, shreds, or lace;
But still the worst remained behind,
That very face had robbed her mind.

Skilled in no other arts was she,
But dressing, patching, repartee;
'And, just as humour rose or fell,
By turns a slattern or a belle;
'Tis true she dressed with modern grace
Half naked at a ball or race;

But when at home, at board or bed,

Five greasy nightcaps wrapped her head.
Could so much beauty condescend
To be a dull domestic friend?

Could any curtain lectures bring
To decency so fine a thing?

In short, by night, 'twas fits or fretting;
By day, 'twas gadding or coquetting.

Fond to be seen, she kept a bevy

Of powdered coxcombs at her levee;

The 'squire and captain took their stations,

And twenty other near relations;

Jack sucked his pipe, and often broke

A sigh in suffocating smoke;

While all their hours were passed between Insulting repartee or spleen.

Thus as her faults each day were known,
He thinks her features coarser grown;
He fancies every vice she shows,

Or thins her lip or points her nose.
Whenever rage or envy rise,

How wide her mouth, how wild her eyes!
He knows not how, but so it is,

Her face is grown a knowing phiz;

And though her fops are wondrous civil, He thinks her ugly as the devil.

Now, to perplex the ravelled noose,
'As each a different way pursues,
While sullen or loquacious strife,
Promised to hold them on for life,
That dire disease, whose ruthless power
Withers the beauty's transient flower:
Lo! the small-pox, whose horrid glare
Levelled its terrors at the fair;
'And, rifling every youthful grace,
Left but the remnant of a face.

The glass, grown hateful to her sight,
Reflected now a perfect fright;

Each former art she vainly tries

To bring back lustre to her eyes.
In vain she tries her paste and creams,
To smooth her skin, or hide its seams.
Her country beaux and city cousins,
Lovers no more, flew off by dozens;
The 'squire himself was seen to yield,
And even the captain quit the field.

Poor madam, now condemned to hack
The rest of life with anxious Jack,
Perceiving others fairly flown,
Attempted pleasing him alone.
Jack soon was dazzled to behold
Her present face surpass the old;

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