I've heard about a pleasant Land, But how shall I get there? 66 Straight down the Crooked Lane, And all round the Square." A TABLE OF ERRATA. (Hostess loquitur.) WELL! thanks be to Heaven, The summons is given; It's only gone seven And should have been six ; How dreadfully chilly! And never will learn Now then for some blunder, Whatever goes ill. That fish is a riddle! It's broke in the middle. A Turbot! a fiddle! It's only a Brill! It's quite over-boil'd too, That Cook shall not stop! As sure as the morning, I hear such a rushing, Friends flatter and flatter, That nothing comes next? Not wanted at present, I'm born to be vext! The pudding brought on too And aiming at ton too! And where is that John too, The plague that he is? He's off on some ramble: And there is Miss Campbell, Enjoying the scramble, Detestable Quiz! The veal they all eye it, Each drop of the fat. The beef without mustard! And there comes the custard To eat with the hare! Such flesh, fowl, and fishing, Such waiting and dishing, I cannot help wishing A woman might swear! Oh dear! did I ever- To send up the brawn! That cook, I could scold her, Gets worse as she's older; I wonder who told her That woodcocks are drawn! It's really audacious ! That came for a cram! Were boil'd with the ham! Well, where is the curry? I'm all in a flurry. No, cook 's in no hurry— A stoppage again! And John makes it wider, A pretty provider! By bringing up cider Instead of champagne ! My troubles come faster! And hardly can sit : I'm off in a fit! |