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Through which his mother as a bride had pass'd.
SMALL TALK. SMALL talk is indispensable at routs,
But more so at a little coterie,
Meet to enjoy loquacity and tea.
If ladies would survive to fifty-three;
What changes there would be, if no tongues ran
Except in sober sense and conversation ;
Would take to silence and to cogitation. "Twould stop old maids (if aught that's earthly can)
And cut the thread of many an oration :
Old bachelors would daudle through the day,
What would become of those who, when at prayers,
Lean down their heads, and whisper in their pews; Those at the play who give themselves such airs,
Careful each celebrated speech to lose ?
For small snug parties which he can't refuse?
While waiting for their turn to point the toe;
Over their juice of grape, or juice of sloe :
England and Wales--and they in fact might go
Lovers would think it very hard, I fear,
If sober sense they were condemn’d to speak; Husbands and wives a voice would seldom hear,
Unless it happen'd to be washing week; The language of the eyes, I think, 't is clear,
Old married people very seldom seek: (Couples oft disagree, I'm told)-but this Is just by way of a parenthesis.
How very peaceable we should be then,
The fame of certain wits would prove a hum; Tatlers, deprived of speech, would seize a pen,
They are a nuisance not to be o'ercome; Schemers the credulous no more would balk, For schemes would very rarely end in talk.
These changes are not all ;—I'll not proceed,
I've mention'd quite enough in my narration ; They'd be so universal, that indeed
They'd baffle any man's investigation. To calculate them all-I must exceed
George Bidder, who is famed for calculation : Arithmetic to him's a pleasant game“ He lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came !"
T. H. BAILEY.
DEAR COUSIN,,I write this in haste,
Papa wants a new razor-strop,
And while you are there, you may stop
And while you are there, 't were as well
I send in this parcel, from Bet,
EPISTLE TO A COUNTRY COUSIN. This morning I sent by the coach
Your basket of various wants; And I trust that I shall not encroach,
By inclosing a shawl of your aunt's. It was sent to be dyed a deep blue,
But could not-you need not say whyFor the fact is, (I only tell you,)
'T was too old and too shabby to dye.
All your excellent pickles are done;
I am glad that the season draws near, When you think of your dear absent one, Who cannot partake of
your cheer, Except in the shape of goose-pie,
A turkey, or basket of game,
Such as thick bottled-cream and spice-cake;
Your wine sours deliciously fine;
Not to mention your gooseberry wine,
Protested again and again, (As he beggd for some more I would send)
Was superior to any Champaigne. A pot of such raspberry jam
As yours, I have sought for in vain;
I never shall meet with again,
Bless me! I had nearly forgot,
For the couple of wild-ducks he shot.
I should like you to get me a dog
Perhaps you've a good one to spare : You can send it by some stupid log,
That will bring it scot-free; but take care That he does not expect a spare bed :
I will give him a dinner, or so I got nothing by harbouring Ned,
Some two or three winters ago. There's a man that makes nice walking-sticks,
It is not many miles from your farm; I wish you'd ride over, and fix
On one like my uncle's at Yarm. And get me a skin nicely dress'd
A sheep's, buck, or doe's, I don't care; For rugs they're decidedly best
What I purchase in London soon wear. For my time I have made you no charge,
Nor coach-hire for popping about; But I'll not on such trifles enlarge
You will pay me in some way, no doubt.