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MONSIEUR TONSON.

The Frenchman now perceiv'd 'twas all in vain
To this tormentor mildly to complain,

And strait in rage began his crest to rear-
'Sare, vat the devil make you treat me so?
Sare, I inform you, sare, three nights ago,
'Got tam, I swear, no Monsieur Tonson here!'
True as the night, King went and beard a strife
Between the harrass'd Frenchman and his wife,
Which would descend to chase the fiend away;
At length to join their forces they agree,
And strait impetuously they turn the key,
Prepar'd with mutual fury for the fray.
Our hero, with the firmness of a rock,
Collected to receive the mighty shock,

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Utt'ring the old enquiry, calmly stood-The name of Thompson rais'd the storm so high, He deem'd it then the safest plan to fly,

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With, Well, I'll call when you 're in gentler mood.'

In short, our hero, with the same intent,
Full many a night to plague the Frenchman went--
So fond of mischief was the wicked wit;

They threw out water--for the watch they call,
But King expecting, still escapes from all--

Monsieur at last was forc'd his house to quit: It happen'd that our wag about this time, On some fair prospect sought the Eastern clime, Six ling'ring years were there his tedious lot; At length, content, amid his rip'ning store, He treads again on Britain's happy shore, And his long absence is at once forgot. To London, with impatient hope he flies, And the same night, as former freaks arise,

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He fain must stroll the well known haunt to trace; Ah, here's the scene of frequent mirth,' he said, 'My poor old Frenchman, I suppose, is dead-Egad, I'll knock and see who holds his place."

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LODGINGS FOR SINGLE GENTLEMEN.

With rapid strokes he makes the mansion roar,
And while he eager eyes the op'ning door,
Lo! who obeys the knocker's rattling peal?
Why e'en our little Frenchman, strange to say,
He took his old abode that very day--

Capricious turn of sportive Fortune's wheel!
Without one thought of the relentless foe,
Who, fiend-like, haunted him so long ago,
Just in his former trim he now appears;
The waistcoat and the night cap seem'd the same,
With rushlight as before, he creeping came,

And King's detested voice, astonish'd, hears. As if some hideous spectre struck his sight, His senses seem'd bewilder'd with affright,

His face, indeed bespoke a heart full sore-Then starting, he exclaim'd, in rueful strain, Begar! here's Monsieur Tonson come again!' Away he ran--and ne'er was heard of more!

LODGINGS FOR SINGLE GENTLEMEN. (COLMAN, JR.)

WHO has c'er been in London, that overgrown place,

Has seen Lodgings to Let,' stare him full in the face: Some are good, and let dearly; while some, 'tis well known.

Are so dear, and so bad, they are best let alone.

WILL WADDLE, whose temper was studious and lonely,

Hired lodgings that took Single Gentlemen only;
But Will was so fat he appear'd like a tun ;--
Or like two Single Gentlemen, roll'd into One.

LODGINGS FOR SINGLE GENTLEMEN.

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He enter'd his rooms, and to bed he retreated;
But, all the night long, he felt fever'd and heated;
And, tho' heavy to weigh, as a score of fat sheep,
He was not, by any means, heavy to sleep.

Next night 'twas the same!-and the next ;-and the next;

He perspired like an ox; he was nervous, and vex'd; Week pass'd after week; till by weekly succession, His weakly condition was past all expression.

In six months, his acquaintance began much to doubt him;

For his skin, ‘like a lady's loose gown, hung about him;

He sent for a Doctor and cried, like a ninny, I have lost many pounds-make me well-there's a guinea.'

The Doctor look'd wise:-'a slow fever,' he said: Prescribed sudorificks, and going to bed.

Sudorificks in bed, (exclaim'd Will) are humbugs; I've enough of them there, without paying for drugs.'

WILL kick'd out the Doctor:-but when ill indeed, E'en dismissing the Doctor don't always succeed; So. calling his host, he said, Sir do you know, 'I'm the fat single Gentleman, six months ago?

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'Look 'e, landlord, I think,' argued Will, with a grin,

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"That with honest intentions you first took me in But from the first night-and to say it I'm bold'I have been so damn'd hot, that I'm sure I caught cold,'

Quoth the landlord- till now, I ne'er had a dispute; 'I've let lodgings ten years ;--I'm a Baker to boot;

E

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ADVENTURES OF

In airing your sheets, sir, my wife is no sloven; And your bed is immediately--over my Oven.' The Oven!!!' says Will--says the host, Why this passion?

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In that excellent bed died three people of fashion. Why so crusty good sir?-Zounds' cries Will in a taking.

Who would't be crusty, with half a years baking?'

WILL paid for his rooms; cried the host with a sneer "Well, I see you've been going away half a year, 'Friend. we can't well agree

Will said;

But I'd rather not perish, while

bread.'

yet no quarrel'

you make your

ADVENTURES OF YOUNG WHIPSTITCH.

A TALE.

A LONDON tailor, as 'tis said,

By buckram, canvas. tape and thread,
Sleeve-linings. pockets, silk and twist,
And all the long expensive list.

With which their uncouth bills abound.
Tho' rarely in the garment found;
By these and other arts in trade,
Had soon a pretty fortune made ;.
And did what few had ever done,
Left thirty thousand to his son.

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The son, a gay, young swagg'ring blade,
Abhorr'd the very name of trade,
And lest reflection should be thrown
On him resolved to quit the town,
And travel where he was not known.
In gilded coach and liv'ries gay,
To Oxford first he took his way;

YOUNG WHIPSTITCH.

There beaux and belles his taste admire,
His equipage and rich attire ;
But nothing as so much ador'd
As his fine silver-hilted sword;
Tho' short and small, 'twas vastly neat,
The sight was deem'd a perfect treat.
Beau Ganter begg'd to have a look,
But when the sword in hand he took,
He swore by G-d it was an odd thing,
And look'd much like a tailor's bodkin.
His pride was hurt by this expression,
Thinking they knew his sires profession;
Sheathing his sword he sneak'd away,
And drove for Glo'ster that same day.
There soon he found new cause for grief,
For dining off some fine roast beef,
One ask'd him which he did prefer,
Some cabbage or a cucumber?

The purse-proud coxcomb took the hint,
Thought it severe reflection meant ;
His stomach turn'd he could not eat,
So made an ungenteel retreat;
Next day left Glo'ster in great wrath,
And bade his coachman drive to Bath.
There he suspected fresh abuse,
Because the dinner was roast goose,
And that he might no more be jeer'd
Next day to Exeter he steer'd,

There with some bucks he drank about,
Until he fear'd they found him out;
His glass not full, as was the rule,
They said 'twas not a thimble full;
The name of thimble was enough,
He paid his reck'ning and went off.
He then to Plymouth took a trip,
And put up at the Royal Ship,
Which then was kept by Caleb Snip.

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