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This orderly, decent, exemplary set
Then talked away cheerly 'till two of the clock,
'Till their eyes, like the eyes of old Moses,did shine
When he came from the mount, and the cliffs of his

At the sins of thepeople to fume and to fret.

Now the bell striking three, they agreed to adjourn;
Each bound to his lodging by different roads;
But the son of the college by quaffing too much,
Lost his path, and got into the dead men's abodes;
Where Irish and English, Columbians and Dutch,
Had agreed to lie down, without quarrels or feuds.

He stumbled and tumbled, stubbed toes, broke his

shins, And next with a head-stone disabled his head; Though the night was as dark as in Egypt of old He discovered at last he had got with the dead; There jammed like a wedge by a couple of tombs, An effort he made to dislodge—but in vain; Old Bacchus had stowed him so snug in his bed, That the church might as soon have been raised up

again. When thus the poor Peliow was heard with a groan To say, as he lay by strong liquor oppressed, Well, well, I suppose if they let me alone, In time, I may chance to get up with the rest.


A Grasshopper had chaunted it away,

Each summer's day:
Now that cold weather was set in,
Began to look most piteous thin.
Away she hopp'd to see her' ant,
And begg'd some small relief she'd grant


From her abundant store;

Or else, e'er half the winter o'er,

She needs must die for want;

And faith and troth she swore

The loan with int'rest to restore

By autumn next—if not before.

Your ants they never lend on trust:

Our housewife was devout as well as just;

T' encourage sloth she held a crime.

How did you spend quoth she, the harvest time?

And please you, night and day I tun'd my song

T' amuse the travellers that pass'd along.

Oh. ho! and so you sung the summer out:

Yes, Ma'am. Why that was wond'rous wise!

And now that winter's come, might I advise

E'en dance about;
You '11 have at least, the comfort for %
To've led a merry life, though short.


As on the road a peasant drove his ass,

He spi'd a meadow rich in grass;

And tho' he had no right to do it,

He dar'd the pound, and turn'd the beast into it.

The jack-ass, charm'd at such a treat,

With choice to crop and time to eat,

Graz'd here and there the field all over, Then prane'd and rear'd and toss'd his head, And in the thick on't made his bed,

Like one that's nurs'd in clover.

Amidst this jubilee the foe appears; The clown cries out, Haste, haste away!

At which our ass prick'd up his ears,
And bray'd, No friend, I choose to stay:

Will those folks load a double pack
Upon my back?


Why, no.—Then what is it to me,

If I belong to them of thee?
You may by flight your freedom save,

If you disdain to be a slave.
For me it is no new disaster;

Nor do I know
The thing that I can call my foe,
Except my master.



An Indian, who liv'd at Muskingum remote,
Was teazed by a parson to join his dear flock..

To throw offhis blanket and put on a coat,
And of grace and religion to lay in a stock.

The Indiau^long slighted an offer so fair,

Preferring to preaching his fishing and fowling?

A sermon to him was a heart full of care,
And singing but little superior to howling.

At last by persuasion and Constant harassing,
Our Indian was brought to consent to be good;

He saw that the malice of Satan was pressing,
And the means to repel him not yet understood*

Of heaven, one day when the parson was speaking,
And painting the beautiful things of the place,

The convert who something substantial was seeking Rpse up and confessed he had doubts in the case—

Said he Master Minister, this place that you talk of,
Of things for the stomach, pray what has itgotj

Has it liquors in plenty?—If so III soon walk off
And put my self down in the heavenly spot.



You fool (saiil the preacher) no liquors are there!

The place I'm describing is most like our meeting, Good people, all singing with preaching and pray'r;

They live upon these without eating or drinking.

But the doors are all locked against folks that are wicked;

And you I am fearful, will never get there ;— A life of Repentance must purchase the ticket,

And few of you Indians can buy it, I fear.

Farewell (said the Indian) I'm nqne of your mess;

On victuals so airy I faintish should feel, I cannot consent to be lodged in a place

Where there's nothing to eat and but little to steal.



John Trott was desir'd by two witty peers, To tell them the reason why Asses had ears? 'An't please you,' quoth John, 'I'm not given to

letters, 'Nor dare I pretend to know more than my betters; 'Howe'er from this time I shall ne'er see your graces * As I hope to be sav'd, toithout thinking on asses."

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