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THE TINKER AND GLAZIER.

Their ale they quaff'd ;

And, as they swigg'd their nappy,
Though both agreed, 'tis said,

That trade was wond'rous dead,
They jok'd sung, laugh'd,

And were completely happy.

The landlord's eye, bright as his sparkling ale,
Glistened to see them the brown pitcher hug;
For ev'ry jest, and song, and merry tale,

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Had this blithe ending-Bring us t' other mug!' Now Dick the glazier, feels his bosom burn, To do his friend, Tom Tinker a good turn, And where the heart to friendship feels inclin'd, Occasion seldom loiters long behind.

The kettle gaily singing on the fire,

Gives Dick a hint just to his heart's desire ; And while to draw more ale the landlord goes, Dick, in the ashes, all the water throws, Then puts the kettle on the fire again, And at the Tinker winks,

As trade's success!' he drinks,

Nor doubts the wish'd success Tom will obtain. Our landlord ne'er could such a toast withstand: So, giving each kind customer a hand, His friendship too display'd,

And drank-Success to trade!

But. O, how pleasure vanish'd from his eye,
How long and rueful his round visage grew:
Soon as he saw the kettle's bottom fly,
Solder the only fluid he could view!

He rav'd, he caper'd, and he swore,

And dd the kettle's bottom o'er and o'er. Come, come!' says Dick, fetch us, my friend more ale;

All trades you know, must live:

'Let's drink-- May trade with none of us, ne'er fail! The job to Tom, then give;

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THE TINKER AND GLAZIER.

And, for the ale he drinks, our lad of mettle, Take my word for it, soon will mend your kettle. The landlord yields, but hopes 'tis no offence, To curse the trade that thrives at his expense. Tom undertakes the job; to work he goes, And just concludes it with the ev'ning's close. Souls so congenial, had friends Tom and Dick, They might be fairly call'd brother and brother; Thought Tom to serve my friend, I know a trick, And one good turn always deserves another!' Out now he slily slips,

But not a word he said:

The plot was in his head,

And off he nimbly trips.

Swift to the neighb'ring church, his way he takes: Nor, in the dark,

Misses his mark,

But every pane of glass he quickly breaks.
Back as he goes,

His bosom glows,

To think how great will be his friend Dick's joy,
At getting so much excellent employ!
Return'd, he beck'ning, draws his friend aside,
Importance in his face;

And, to Dick's ear his mouth applied,

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Thus briefly states the case

• Dick! I may give you joy, you 're a made man; I've done your business most complete my friend; I'm off-the devil may catch me if he can,

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Each window of the church you've got to mend; Ingratitude's worst curse on my head fall,

If, for your sake, I have not broke them all!'
Tom with surprize, sees Dick turn pale,
Who deeply sighs, la!'

Then drops his under jaw,

And all his pow'rs of utt'rance fail:

A MATRIMONIAL DIALOGUE.

While horror in his ghastly face,

And bursting eye-balls Tom can trace, Whose sympathetic muscles, just and true, Share with heart,

Dick's unknown smart,

And two such phizzes ne'er met mortal view.
At length, friend Dick his speech regain'd,
And soon the mystery explain'd-

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You have, indeed, my business done!
And I, as well as you must run;
For let me act the best I can,

Tom! Tom! I am a ruin'd man.

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"Zounds! zounds! this friendship is a foolish act, • You did n't know with the parish I contract; 6 Your wish to serve me, then, will cost me dear, I always mend those windows, by the year.'

A MATRIMONIAL DIALOGUE:

HIUMBLY INSCRIBED TO MY LORD SNAKE.

(FRENEAU.)

ONE Sabbath-day morning said Sampson to Sue
I have thought and have thought that a TITLE will

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do;

Believe me, my dear, it is sweeter than syrup
To taste of a title as cooked up in Europe;
Your ladyship' here, and Your ladyship' there,
Sir knight,' and 'your grace,' and 'his worship
the mayor!"

But here, we are nothing but vulgar all over,
The wife of a cobler scarce thinks you above her:
What a country is this, where madam and miss
Is the highest address from each vulgar-born cur,
And I-even I-am but MISTER and SIR!

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A MATRIMONIAL DIALOGUE.

Your EQUAL-RIGHT gentry I ne'er could abide
That all are born equal, by ME is denied:
And Barlow and Paine shall preach it in vain ;
Look even at Brutes, and you'll see it confest
That some are intended to manage the rest;
Yon' dog of the manger, how stately he struts!
You may swear him well-born, from the size of his
guts;

Not a better-born whelp ever snapped at his foes,
All he wants, is a GLASS TO BE STUCK ON HIS NOSE:
And then my dear Sue, between me and you,
He would look like the gemman whose name I forget
Who lives in a castle and never pays debt.'

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My dear (answered Susan) 'tis said, in reproach, That you climb like a bear when you get in a coach: Now, your nobles that spring from the nobles of old, Your earls and your knights, and your barons so bold,

From Nature inherit so handsome an air

They are noblemen born, at first glance we may

swear:

But you, that have cobbled, and I that have spun,
"Tis wrong for our noddles on TITLES to run:
Moreover, you know, that to make a fine show,
Your people of note, of arms get a coat;
A boot or a shoe would but sneakingly do,
And would certainly prove our nobility NEW.'
'No matter (said Sampson) a coach shall be bought:
Tho' the low-born may chatter, I care not a groat;
Around it a group of devices shall shine,
And mottos and emblems--to prove it is mine;
Fair Liberty's CAP, and a STAR, and a STRAP ;
A DAGGER, that somewhat resembles an AWL,
A pumpkin-faced GODDESS supporting a STALL:
All these shall be there-how people will stare!
And ENVY herself, that our TITLE would blast
May smile at the motto-the first shall be LAST.’

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SUSAN AND THE SPIDER.

(PINDAR.)

'COME down you toad,' cried Susan to a spider, High on the gilded cornice a proud rider,

And wanton swinging by his silken rope; 'I'll teach thee to spin cobwebs round the room; You're now upon some murder, I presume: I'll bless thee; if I don't, say I'm no Popc.'

Then Susan brandished her long brush

Determined on a fatal push,

To bring the rope-dancer to the ground,
And all his schemes of death confound,
The Spider blest with oratory grace,
Slipped down and staring Susan in the face,

Fie, Susan! lurks there murder in that heart? ' O barb❜rous lovely Susan! I'm amazed! 'O! can that form on which so oft I've gazed, Possess of cruelty the slightest part?

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Ah! can that swelling bosom of delight,

On which I've peeped with wonder many a night,
Nay, with these fingers touched too, let me say,
Contain a heart of cruelty!-no, no!

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6 That bosom which exceeds the new-fallen snow, All softness, sweetness, one eternal May.' 'How! Susan screeched as with disordered brain, 'How, impudence! repeat those words again: Come, come, confess with honesty-speak, speak, Say, did you really crawl upon my neck?' Susan by all the heavenly charms, I did; I saw thee sleeping by the taper's light; Thy cheek so blushful, and thy breast so white: 'I could not stand it, and so down I slid.' You did, sweet Mr. Spider? so you saw!' 'Yes, Susan! nature is a powerful law, ?

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