THE CHAMELEON.-MERRICK.

OFT has it been my lot to mark
A proud, conceited, talking spark,
Returning from his finished tour,
Grown ten times perter than before:
Whatever word you chance to drop,

The travelled fool your mouth will stop; "Sir, if my judgment you ll allow

.“

I've seen-and sure, I ought to know ;"So begs you'd pay a due submission, And acquiesce in his decision.

Two travellers of such a cast, As o'er Arabia's wilds they passed, And on their way, in friendly chat, Now talked of this, and then of that, Discoursed awhile, 'mongst other matter, Of the chameleon's form and nature. "A stranger animal," cries one, "Sure never lived beneath the sun: A lizard's body, lean and long, A fish's head, a serpent's tongue, Its tooth with triple claw disjoined; And what a length of tail behind! How slow its pace! and then its hueWho ever saw so fine a blue ?"

"Hold there!" the other quick replies→→→
Tis green; I saw it with these eyes,
As late with open mouth it lay,

And warmed it in the sunny ray:
Stretched at its ease, the beast I viewed,
And saw it eat the air for food."

"I've seen it, sir, as well as you,
And must again affirm it blue:
At leisure I the beast surveyed,
Extended in the cooling shade."

"'Tis green! 'tis green, sir, I assure ye!" "Green?" cries the other, in a fury;

"Why, sir, d'ye think I've lost my eyes?" ""Twere no great loss," the friend replies;

For if they always use you thus,

You'll find them but of little use."

So high, at last, the contest rose,
From words they almost came to blows;
When luckily came by a third:

To him the question they referred,
And begged he 'd tell them, if he knew,
Whether the thing was green or blue.

"Sirs," said the umpire, cease your pother→
The creature 's neither one nor t' other.
I caught the animal last night,
And view'd it o'er by candle-light;
I marked it well-'twas black as jet-
You stare-but, sirs, I've got it yet,
And can produce it."-" Pray, sir, do;
I'll lay my life the thing is blue."
"And I'll be sworn, that when you 've seen

The reptile, you'll pronounce him green."— "Well, then, at once to end the doubt,"

Replies the man, "I'll turn him out;
And when before your eyes I've set him,
If dor't find him black, I'll eat him,"
you

He said then full before their sight

Produced the beast; and, lo! 'twas white!

Both stared; the man looked wondrous wise

"My children," the chameleon cries,-
Then first the creature found a tongue,-
"You all are right, and all are wrong.
When next you talk of what you view,
Think others see as well as you,
Nor wonder if you find that none
Prefers your eyesight to his own.”

A LESSON IN POLITENESS.-OULTON.

DOCTOR WISEPATE-THADY O'KEEN-ROBERT.

Doctor Wisepate. Plague on her ladyship's ugly cur!—it has broken three bottles of bark that I had prepared myself for Lord Spleen. I wonder Lady Apes troubled me with it. But I understand it threw down her flower pots and destroyed all her myrtles. I'd send it home this minute, but I'm unwilling to offend its mistress; for, as she has a deal of money, and no relation, she may think proper to remember me in her will. (Noise within.) Eh! what noise is that in the hall?

(Enter Thady O'Keen, dirty and wet, followed by Robert.)

T. O'Keen. But I must and will, do you see. Very pretty, indeed, keeping people standing in the hall, shivering and shaking with the wet and cold!

Robert. The mischief's in you, I believe; you order me about as if you were my master.

Dr. W. Why, what's all this? who is this unmannerly fellow ?

T. O'K. There! your master says you are an unmannerly fellow.

Rob. Sir, it's Lady Apes' servant: he has a letter, and says he won't deliver it into any one's hands but your honor's Now, I warrant my master will teach you better behavior. (Exit. T. O'K. Oh, are you sure you are Doctor Wisepate? Dr. W. Sure! to be sure I am.

T. O'K. Och! plague on my hat, how wet it is! (Shakes his hat about the room, &c.)

Dr. W. (lays his spectacles down and rises from the table.) Bless me! fellow, don't wet my room in that manner!

T. O'K. Eh! Well-Oh, I beg pardon-there's the letter: and since I must not dry my hat in your room, why, as you desire it, I will go down to the kitchen, and dry it and myself before the fire. (Goes out.)

Dr. W. Here, you, sir, come back. I must teach him bet

ter manners. (Re-enter Thady O' Keen.) Hark you, fellow- whom do you live with?

T. O'K. Whom do I live with? why, with my mistress, to be sure, Lady Apes

Dr. W. And pray, sir, how long have you lived with her ladyship?

T. O'K. How long? Ever since the first day she hired me. Dr. W. And has her ladyship taught you no better manners? T. O'K. Manners? she never taught me any, good or bad. Dr. W. Then, sir, I will; I'll show you how you should address a gentleman when you enter a room. What's your name?

T. O'K. Name?-why, it's Thady O'Keen, my jewel. What in wonder is he going to do with my name! (Aside.)

Dr. W. Then, sir, you shall be Dr. Wisepate for a while, and I'll be Thady O'Keen, just to show you how you should enter a room and deliver a letter.

T. O'K. Eh! what? make a swap of ourselves! With all my heart. Here's my wet hat for you.

Dr. W. There, sit down in my chair. (Going.)

T. O'K. Stop, stop, honey-by my shoul you can never be Thady O'Keen without you have this little shillelagh in your fist. There.

Dr. W. Very well. Sit you down. (Takes Thady's hat, &c., and goes out.)

T. O'K. (solus.) Let me see; I never can be a doctor either, without some sort of a wig. Oh, here is one—and here is my spectacles, faith. On my conscience, I'm the thing! (Puts on the wig awkardly, and the spectacles; then sits in the doctor's chair. Dr. Wisepate knocks.) Walk in, honey. (Helps himself to chocolate and bread and butter.)

(Re-enter Dr. Wisepate, bowing.)

Dr. W. Please your honor-(Aside.)

fellow has !

What assurance the

T. O'K. Speak out, young man, and don't be bashful. (Eating, &c.)

Dr. W. Please your honor, my lady sends her respectful compliments hopes your honor is well.

T. O'K. Pretty well, pretty well, I thank you.

Dr. W. And has desired me to deliver your honor this letter.

T. O'K. That letter, well, why don't you bring it to me? Pray, am I to rise from the table?

Dr. W. So, he's acting my character with a vengeance. But I'll humor him. (Aside.) There, your honor. (Gives the letter, bowing.)

T. O'K (Opens the letter and reads.)

"Sir:-Since my dear Flora has given me so much uneasiness-Och, by my shoul, that's no lie-I beg leave to inform you that a gentleman shall call either to-day or to-morrow for her. If it should rain, I request the poor thing may have a— what's this? Co a-coat !—coat, no-coach. Yours." Hem! well-no answer 's required, young man.

Dr. W. His impudence has struck me almost dumb. (Aside.) No answer, your honor?

T. O'K. No, my good fellow-but come here-let me look at you. Oh, you seem very wet. Why it's you, I understand, who brought this troublesome cur a few days ago: you have been often backwards and forwards, but I could never see you till now. Hollo, Robert! where's my lazy good-fornothing servant? Robert! (Rings a bell.)

Dr. W. Eh! What the deuce does he mean

(Enter Robert, who stares at them both.)

? (Aside.)

Rob. Eh!-Did-did you call, sir? (To Dr. Wisepate.) T. O'K. Yes, sirrah! Take that poor fellow down to the kitchen; he's come upon a foolish errand this cold wet day; 80, do you see, give him something to eat and drink-as much as he likes and bid my steward give him a guinea for his trouble.

Rob. Eh!

T. O'K. Tunder and ouns, fellow! must I put my words into my mouth, and take them out again, for you? Thady