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knowing what I did, I whipped the pudding into my mouth, hot as a burning coal; it was impossible to conceal my agony-my eyes were starting from their sockets. At last, in spite of shame and resolution, I was obliged to drop the cause of torment on my plate. Sir Thomas and the ladies all compassionated my misfortune, and each advised a different application; one recommended oil, another water, but all agreed that wine was the best for drawing out fire; and a glass of sherry was brought me from the sideboard, which I snatched up with eagerness. But oh! how shall I tell the sequel? whether the butler by accident mistook, or purposely designed to drive me mad, he gave me the strongest brandy, with which I filled my mouth, already flayed and blistered. Totally unused to ardent spirits, with my tongue, throat, and palate as raw as beef, what could I do? I could not swallow, and, clapping my hand upon my mouth, the cursed liquor squirted through my nose and fingers like a fountain, over all the dishes; and I was crushed by bursts of laughter from all quarters. In vain did Sir Thomas reprimand the servants, and Lady Friendly chide her daughters; for the measure of my shame and their diversion was not yet complete To relieve me from the intolerable state of perspiration which this accident caused, without considering what I did, I wiped my face with that ill-fated handkerchief, which was still wet from the consequences of the fall of Xenophon, and covered all my features with streaks of ink in every direction. The Baronet himself could not support this shock, but joined his lady in the general laugh; while I sprung from the table in despair, rushed out of the house, and ran home in an agony of confusion and disgrace, equal to that which the most poignant sense of guilt could have excited.

Thus, without_having_deviated from the path of moral rectitude, I am suffering torments like a "goblin damned." The lower half of me has been almost boiled, my tongue and mouth grilled, and I bear the mark of Cain upon my forehead; yet these are but

trifling considerations, to the everlasting shame which I must feel whenever this adventure shall be mentioned. Perhaps by your assistance, when my neighbours know how much I feel on the occasion, they will spare a bashful man, and (as I am just informed my poultice is ready) I trust you'll excuse the haste in which I retire.

A TRAVELLER STOPPED AT A WIDOW'S
GATE.

A traveller stopped at a widow's gate;
She kept an inn, and he wanted to bait:
But the landlady slighted her guest;
For, when Nature was making an ugly race,
She certainly moulded this traveller's face
As a sample for all the rest.

The chambermaid's sides were ready to crack,
When she saw his queer nose, and hump on his back;
(A hump isn't handsome, no doubt);

And though, 'tis confess'd, that the prejudice goes
Very strongly in favour of wearing a nose,
A nose shouldn't look like a snout.

A bag full of gold on the table he laid,

It had a wond'rous effect on the widow and maid,
And they quickly grew marvellous civil;

The money immediately altered the case,

They were charm'd with his hump, and his snout, and his face,

Though he still might have frightened the devil.

He paid like a prince, gave the widow a smack,
And flopp'd on his horse, at the door, like a sack;
While the landlady touching the chink,
Cried, "Sir, should you travel this country again,
I heartily hope that the sweetest of men
Will stop at the widow's to drink.”

C

THE ORPHAN BOY.
(MRS. OPIE.)

Stay, Lady! stay, for mercy's sake,
And hear a helpless Orphan's tale!
Ah! sure my looks must pity wake,
"Tis want that makes my cheeks so pale!
Yet I was once a mother's pride,

And my brave father's hope and joy;
But in the Nile's proud fight he died,
And I am now an Orphan Boy!

Poor foolish child!-how pleased was I,
When news of Nelson's victory came,
Along the crowded streets to fly,

And see the lighted windows flame! To force me home my mother soughtShe could not bear to see my joy; For with my father's life 'twas bought, And made me a poor Orphan Boy! The people's shouts were long and loud, My mother, shuddering, closed her ears! "Rejoice! rejoice!" still cried the crowd; My mother answer'd with her tears. "Why are you crying thus," said I, "While others laugh and shout for joy?" She kiss'd me, and with such a sigh, She call'd me her poor Orphan Boy! "What is an Orphan Boy?" I said;

"When suddenly she gasp'd for breath, And her eyes closed-I shriek'd for aidBut, ah! her eyes were closed in death! My hardships since I will not tell;

But now no more a parent's joy-
Ah! Lady, I have learn'd too well
What 'tis to be an Orphan Boy!
Oh! were I by your bounty fed-
Nay, gentle Lady, do not chide-
Trust me, I mean to earn my bread,
The Sailor's Orphan Boy has pride!
Lady! you weep-ah! this to me!-
You'll give me clothing, food, employ:
Look down, dear parents, look and see
Your happy-happy Orphan Boy!

THE MONK AND THE JEW;

OR, THE CATHOLIC CONVERT.

To make new converts truly bless'd,
A recipe-Probatum est.

Stern Winter, clad in frost and snow,
Had now forbade the streams to flow;
And skated peasants swiftly glide,
Like swallows, o'er the slipp'ry tide;
When Mordecai-upon whose face
The Synagogue you plain might trace-
Fortune, with smiles deceitful, bore
To a cursed hole, but late skinn'd o'er !
Down plumps the Jew; but, in a trice,
Rising he caught the friendly ice.
He grasp'd he yell❜d a hideous cry:
No friendly help, alas! was nigh;
Save a poor monk-who quickly ran
To snatch from death the drowning man;
But when the holy father saw

A limb of the Mosaic law,

His outstretch'd hand he quick withdrew-
"For Heaven's sake, help!" exclaims the Jew.

"Turn Christian first," the father cries.

"I'm froze to death!" the Jew replies.

"Froze!" quoth the monk; " too soon you'll know, "There's fire enough for Jews below.

"Renounce your unbelieving crew,

"And help is near."-" I do, I do!"

"D-n all your brethren great and small."

"With all my heart-oh d-n 'em all!

"Now help me out."-" There's one thing more: "Salue this cross, and Christ adore."

66

There, there! I Christ adore !"""Tis well;

"Thus arm'd, defiance bid to hell.

"And yet another thing remains,
"To guard against eternal pains:
"Do you our papal father hold
"Heaven's vicar, and believe all told
"By holy church ?"-" I do-by God,
"One moment more I'm food for cod!

"Drag, drag me out; I freeze, I die!"
"Your peace, my friend, is made on high.
"Full absolution, here, I give;

"Saint Peter will your soul receive.
"Wash'd clean from sin, and duly shriven,
"New converts always go to heav'n.
No hour for death so fit as this;
"Thus, thus, I launch you into bliss!"
So said the father, in a trice,

His convert launch'd beneath the ice!

THE THREE HUNCHBACKED MINSTRELS. Not far from Thessaly there lived a knight, Uglier than knight was ever seen before; Indeed, he seem'd more like some elfin sprite, For scarce a human form the urchin bore: His growth had been so miserably stinted,

That three-foot-five was all our knight could claim; Humpback'd to boot; besides all this, he squinted, And walk'd, or rather limp'd, most grievous lame. But when you hear this man possess'd a wife, The prettiest too of all the country round, Perchance you'll wonder; but observe, through life, Matches like this, will frequently be found. The secret was, the knight had lands and wealth, And this is often reckon'd a great merit; At least in those not bless'd with too much health, For then the widow never would inherit.

But to our tale-Before his gate, one morn,

Three humpback'd minstrels all appeared in view; And being weary, hungry, and forlorn,

Offer'd, for meat and drink, their skill to shew. The knight agreed-but when their song was o'er, (Mayhap you'll say it wasn't very civil ; )

He swore if e'er they came before him more,

He'd kick both harps and minstrels to the devil! Then closed his gates; the harpers hied away, E'en glad to find their bones were left them whole;

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