Imagens da página
PDF
ePub

100

THE GENTLEMAN AND HIS WIFE.

'Zounds!' cry'd the earl,be converts then this minute ;'

6

So throwing sixpence to them, there, there, there, Take that,' cry'd Peterborough with a sneer-'Now if you think I'm he, the devil 's in it.'

THE GENTLEMAN AND HIS WIFE.

(PINDAR.)

A MAN of some small fortune had a wife,,
Sans doute, to be the comfort of his life;
And pretty well they bore the yoke together:
With little jarring liv'd the pair one year;
Sometimes the matrimonial sky was clear,

At times 't was dark and dull, and hazy weather.
Now came the time when mistress in the straw
Did, for the world's support her screams prepare;
And Slop appear'd, with fair obstetric paw,
To introduce his pupil to our air;

Whilst in a neighbouring room the husband sat, Musing on this thing now, and now on that 3.

Now sighing at the sorrows of his wife;
Praying to Heav'n that he could take the pain ;
But recollecting that such pray'rs were vain,
He made no more an offer of his life.

As thus he mus'd in solemn study,
Ideas sometimes clear, and sometimes muddy,
In Betty rush'd with comfortable news--
Sir, sir, I wish you joy, I wish you joy--
• Madam is brought to bed of a fine boy--
'As fine as ever stood in shoes.'

'I'm glad on 't Betty cri'd the master—
I pray there may be no disaster;

All's with your mistress well, I hope?"

THE GENTLEMAN AND HIS WIFE.

[ocr errors]

6

Quoth she, All 's well as heart can well desire With madam and the fine young squire:

'So likewise says old doctor Slop.'

Off Betty hurried as fast as she could scour,
Fast and as hard as any horse
That trotteth fourteen miles an hour-
A pretty tolerable course.

Soon happy Betty came again,

Blowing with all her might and main;

Just like a grampus, or a whale;

101

In sounds, too, that would Calais reach from Dover'Sir, sir, more happy tidings; 't is not over

6

[ocr errors]

And madam 's brisker than a nightingale:

A fine young lady to the world is come,

Squawling away just as I left the room

'Sir, this is better than a good estate."

'Humph,' quoth the happy man, and scratch'd his pate.

Now looking up, now looking down;

6

Not with a smile, but somewhat like a frown'Good God,' says he, why was not I a cock, Who never feels of burd'ning brats the shock; 'Who, Turk-like, struts amidst his madam's picking,

Whilst to the hen belongs the care

To carry them to eat or take the air,
'Or bed beneath her wing the chicken?'

Just as this sweet soliloquy was ended,
He found affairs not greatly mended;

For in bounc'd Bet, her rump with rapture jigging-

'Another daughter, sir-a charming child.'-'Another!' cry'd the man, with wonder wild; 'Zounds! Betty ask your mistress if she's pigging,

JUSTIFICATION.

A FARMER once, who wanted much
A sturdy husbandman ;
And one, well qualified as such,
To suit his thrifty plan:

One who was sparing at his meat,
And sparing in his drink;
And, daily task-work to complete,
Would never flinch or shrink;

Induc'd a clodpole to apply,

Commended by a neighbour, As Never hungry, never dry, 'Nor ever tir'd of labour!

But soon, when hir'd, and set to work,
He prov'd, to crown the bam,
As lazy as as a cross-legged turk,
Yet turkey-like, he'd cram!

For bacon-rack was quickly shrunk,
So well he 'd fill his dish ;

And soon the cellar's stock was sunk,
He'd drink so like a fish!

Which made old Squeezum rail and rave,
Against his neighbour Muggs;
To bubble him like a lying knave,
With three such d-d humbugs.

You Never hungry! ne'er athirst!
Of working never tir'd!'

I wish that both your skins had burst,
Ere such a pest I hir'd.

Hold, zur,' says Hobnail, 'doant ye vly
In such a deadly twoddle;

AN IRISH BLUNDER WITHOUT A BULL.

If Measter Muggs have tould a lie,
Then vairly crack my noddle.

Vor 1 do never hungry be,

Before my guts I vill,

And drowth do never trouble me, 'Before I gets a zwill.

And I did never work pursue,
'Till tir'd or overheated ;

Zo Measter Muggs have tould ye true,
And you have not been cheated.'

103

AN IRISH BLUNDER WITHOUT A BULL. COLONEL Patrick O'Blaney, as honest a teague, As ever took snuff to repel pest or plague, Having got a French snuff box, of papier machee, Which to open requir'd much pains, do you see ; Always kept a bent sixpence at hand in his pocket, And call'd it his key, by the which to unlock it; As by niggling and wedging it under the lid, He came to his rappee that was under it hid: But one day when he wanted a pinch for a friend, He search'd for his tester, but all to no end,

Till at last 'twixt the pocket and lining he found it; When in rage he cried Arrah the devil confound

it.

I'll engage you don't serve me the same trick again,
For to make me after thus hunting in vain.'
So opening the box by the help of the tizzy,
And feaking his nose till his noddle was dizzy,
He chuck'd in the coin, and exclaimed with a shrug,
While tight went the rim down-- So there you
lie snug;

And my hide-and-seek friend, I beg leave to remind ye,

That the next time I want you, I'll know where to find ye.'

BIENSEANCE,

(PINDAR.)

AT Paris, some time since, a murd'ring man,
A German, and a most unlucky chap.
Sad, stumbling at the threshold of his plan,
Fell into Justice's strong trap.

The bungler was condemn'd to grace the wheel,
On which the dullest fibres learn to feel;

His limbs secundum artem to be broke
Amidst ten thousand people perhaps, or more ;
Whenever Monsieur Ketch appli'd a stroke,
The culprit, like a bullock made a roar.

A flippant petit maitre skipping by,
Stepp'd up to him, and check'd his cry-

Boh!' quoth the German;an't I' pon the wheel? 'D' ye tink my nerfs and bons can't feel?'

'Sir' quoth the beau; ‘do n't, do u't be in a passion; 'I've nought to say about your situation; 'But making such a hideous noise in France, 'Fellow, is contrary to bienseance.”

AN ANATOMICAL EPITAPH ON AN IN

VALID.

(WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.)

HERE lies a head that often ach'd:

Here lie two hands that always shak'd:

Here lies a brain of odd conceit;

Here lies a heart that often beat:
Here lie two eyes that daily wept,
And in the night but seldom slept ;
Here lies a tongue that whining talk'd
Here lie two feet that feebly walk'd;

« AnteriorContinuar »