50 THE PETTIFOGGER. At length those flies got drunk; and for their sin, Up jump'd the Bacchanalian crew, on this, Swearing, and in the attitude to smite: 'Lord! (cry'd the man with gravely-lifted eyes) Though I don't like to swallow flies, "I did not know but others might." THE PETTIFOGGER, OR FEE SIMPLE, Esq. (FRENEAU.) IN a town I could mention. a lawyer resided To keep on his docket a long string of suits. While he got his dear FEE, the one pound ten. A parchment, Caveto, hung up in his hall, Which cautioned the reader to read and attend, That for one pound ten he would quibble and brawl, Twist, lie, and do all things a cause to defend. Sometimes when the limits of lots were disputed, He would put all to rights in the turn of a straw; From the tenth of an inch he his pocket recruited, Till he made the two parties curse lawyer and law. Thus matters went on, and the lawyer grown rich, Fed high, and swilled wine till the dropsy began To bloat up his guts to so monstrous a pitch, You would hardly have known him to be the same man. At last he departed, and when he had died, PATIENCE. "TWAS at some country place, a parson preaching, The virtue of long sufferance was teaching: And so pathetically did exhort His list'ning congregation, and in short Meaning, perhaps, that since 'tis plain, How would it be if man Pursu'd a different plan, And were to laugh and treat the matter lightly; To make wry faces, roar and shout, But look agreeable and sprightly. And pray, d'ye think my dearest life," Exclaim'd the parson's wife, As after church they sat, In courteous chat, "That 'tis in human nature to endure "The sad extremity of wo, That Job, you say, did undergo? 6 Tis more than you or I could do, I'm sure.” 'My dear,' quoth he, this diffidence, 'Shews, let me tell you, great good sense, "A talent in your sex we seldom see; ◄ And doubtless the remark is true, 'As far as it extends to you, Tho' not, I think, to me. "No woman, since the world began, I do conceive that I myself have shewn, To Job alone.' Thus said the modest priest, and would have said much more, But for the sudden opening of the door, His clownish servant Numps,' His mouth wide open, on the parson gazing- Who drew old Priam's curtains in the night, 'Well, Numps, the matter? speak! why look'st se pale! Has any thing gone wrong?' quoth Numps, the ale.' 'What,' cries the priest, the ale gone sour?" (And then his phiz began to lower ;) "Turn'd sour? no measter, no,' reply'd the fellow; 6 • But just now, as I went, d' ye see, To tilt the cask-away rolled he, 'And all the liquor's spilt about the cellar.' The fact was, Numps the cask of ale had stav'd; Throw ashes on his head, or rend his robe? With the barrel, and be curst t' ye? 'I wish thy paws were in the fire—Õdd rot 'm— "Get thee down stairs, this instant, wretch, 'Or by the living G--d I'll kick thy breech 'From top to bottom.' "Nay, now, my dearest,' cried the dame, Is this your patience?-Fie for shame! I beg you'll recollect your text, 'Job was not half so vext When he 'd his sons and daughters to bewail.' EPIGRAM ON THE DEATH OF A NOTED KNAVE. If heav'n be pleas'd when sinners cease to sin- If earth be pleas'd freed from a truckling knave Then all are pleas'd is in his grave. THE SEGAR, A PARODY ON SAPPHO'S ODE. (Translated by Phillips.) BLEST as old Homer's gods is he, "Tis this, that oft has sooth'd my breast, VERSES ON THE CREW OF A CERTAIN VESSEL, Several of whom happened to be of the same Name with celebrated Clergymen. (FRENEAU.) IN life's unsettled, odd career, Here Bonner, bruis'd with many a knock, |