AND THE RAZOR-SELLER. But yet there are a mercenary crew, Just like the man-but, stay-I'll tell the tale; Most musical, cry'd razors up and down, As ev'ry man would buy, with cash and sense, 5. A country Bumpkin the great offer heard, "No matter, if the fellow be a knave, 'It certainly will be a monstrous prize.' So home the clown, with his good fortune, wentSmiling-in heart and soul, content And quickly soap'd himself, to ears and eyes. Being well lathered, from a dish or tub, 'Twas a vile razor!-then the rest he try'd- 6 I wish my eighteen pence were in my purse!' In vain, to chase his beard, and bring the graces, He cut, and dug, and winc'd, and stamp'd, and swore; Brought blood, and danc'd, blasphem'd and made wry faces; And curs'd each razor's body o'er and o'er : 6 MIDAS'S SECOND MISTAKE, His muzzle, form'd of opposition stuff, Hodge sought the fellow-found him, and begun- 6 That people flay themselves out of their lives! You rascal-for an hour have I been grubbing, "Giving my scoundrel whiskers here a scrubbing, 'With razors, just like oyster-knives. Sirrah! I tell you, you're a knave, To cry up razors, that can't shave! Friend,' quoth the razor-man, 'I'm not a knave; 'As for the razors you have bought, Upon my soul I never thought, That they would shave.' 'Not think, they'd shave!' quoth Hodge with wond'ring eyes, And voice not much unlike an Indian yell; • What were they made for, then? you dog! he cries: 'Made!" quoth the fellow with a smile, to sell! MIDAS'S SECOND MISTAKE. ONCE an old country squaretoes, to fopp'ry a foe, And disgusted alike at a crop and a beau, Being church-warden made, was in office so strict, That there scarce was a coat, but a hole in't he'd pick: MIDAS'S SECOND MISTAKE. Infringements, encroachments, and trespasses scouting; And from straddling the tomb-stones the boys daily routing: At last made a justice, corruption to purge, His worship became both a nuisance and scourge: When a poor needy neighbour, who kept a milch ass, Which he often turn'd into the church-yard for grass, And with long cars and tail o'er the graves did he stray, While perchance, now and then, at by-standers he'd bray: And once when old Midas was passing along, That again should his beast the church-warden assail, Or be seen in the church-yard-he'd cut off his tail; When the owner replied-Sure his worship but jeers; But should he dock donky-I'll cut off his ears.' When no sooner the answer was brought to him back, But he summon'd before him the clown in a crack; And he said-Thou vile varlet, how comes it to pass, That thou dar'st for to threaten to crop a just-ass? 8 THE NEW CASTLE APOTHECARY. 'I zwing on a tree!-and for what?' replies Hob, How the dickens came zuch a strange freak in your knob ? I woanly but zaid, if my ass met your sheers, At this subtle rejoinder, his worship struck dumb, THE NEWCASTLE APOTHECARY. (COLMAN, JR.) A MAN, in many a country town, we know, Yet, some affirm, no enemies they are; Tho' the Apothecary fights with Death, Or mix a draught, or bleed, or blister; THE NEWCASTLE APOTHECARY. Of occupations these were quantum suff; A few score mortals from the world, He made amends by bringing others in to't. His fame, full six miles round the country ran ; In short, in reputation he was solus: All the old women call'd him ‘a fine man!” Benjamin Bolus, tho' in trade, (Which oftentimes will genius fetter) Read works of fancy, it is said; And cultivated the Belles Letters. And why should this be thought so odd? Appollo patronises Physic. Bolus loved verse; and took so much delight in't That his prescriptions he resolv'd to write in't. No opportunity he e'er let pass Of writing the directions, on his labels, In dapper couplets,-like Gay's Fables; Or, rather like the lines in Hudibras. Apothecary's verse!-and where's the treason? He had a patient lying at death's door, And, on the label of the stuff, He wrote this verse; |