Pagina-afbeeldingen
PDF
ePub

A DREAM.

ADVANTAGES OF UGLINESS.

marked to him, that his title would be very apt to be In the reign of Lewis XIV. a gentleman, who had confounded with that of the Lord Chancellor. To suffered by the law's delay, was promised speedy jus. this observation Lord Eldin answered, “ The differtice by a nobleman, who brought the gentleman to ence between his Lordship and me is all my eye.' Versailles, to present him to his majesty: The request being granted by the king, his majesty asked the peer what connection he had with the man whose With bridal cake bencath her head, interest he had so warmly espoused. “ Not añy,” re

As Jenny prest her pillow, plied he; “indeed, so far from it, that I never saw She dreami that lovers, thick as hops, him in my life till the other day.” .“ What !” replied

Hung pendent from the willow. the king, “ had you never seen him before? How,

Around her spectres shook their chains, then, could you be under that obligation to him which

And goblins kept their station ; you talk of? “0, sire !” exclaimed the nobleman,“ has

They pull d, they pinch'd her, till she swore Dot your majesty perceived that, till he was brought

To spare the male creation. forward, I was supposed to have been the ugliest

Before her now the buck, the beau, man in your dominions ? The exception he has enabled me to make is surely a very great obligation.”

The 'squire, the captain trips ;

The modest seiz'd her hand to kiss, THE DOCTOR AND CAPTAIN, A TALE FROM BATH,

The forward seiz'd ber lips. In Bladud's city, place of vast renown,

For some she felt her bosom pant, Where, in the season, wealthy cits from town

For some she felt it smart;
Escort their wives and pretty daughters,

To all she gave enchanting smiles,
To make a Jash,

To one she gave her heart.
To cut a splash,

She dreamt-(for magic charms prevail'd, To dance, 'to play at cards, and drink the waters

And fancy play'd her farce on) A strife arose 'twixt men of high condition,

That, soft reclin' in elbow chair,
A captain this, and that a grave physician.

She kiss'd a sleeping parson.
One morn, the hero of the scarlet coat,
Upon the doctor's gate, with pencil, wrote

She dreamt--but 0, rash muse! forbear,

Nor virgin's dreams pursue ; Scoundrel !" in letters clear and plain :

Yet blest above the gods is he,
The doctor saw: amaz'd he stood,

Who proves such visions true.
He long'd to let the captain blood :
And, waxing wroth, he grasp'd his gold-topp'd cane,

ADVERTISEMENT.
Then sallied forth, and, after varicus dodgings,
At length he found the noble captain's lodgings;

A Margate advertisement, by an ass-lender, whose There, in politeness to be conquer’d, scorning,

donkies are alternately employed by ladies and smug. He told the servant, with an arch regard,

glers :

Asses here to be let; for all purposes right, " Give to your master doctor Pestle's card,

To bear angels by day, and spirits by night. For at my gate he left his name this morning."

ETYMOLOGY AND LAW.

MONSIEUR TONSON.

Shortly after Lord Eldin, the Scotch judge, assumed his seat on the bench as a judge, a gentleman re

There liv'd, as fame reports, in days of yore,
At least some fifty years ago, or more,

A pleasant wight, on town yclep'd Tom King ;; After some time, a little Frenchman cameA fellow that was clever at a joke;

One hand display'd a rushlight's trembling flame, Expert in all the arts to tease and smoke ;

The other held a thing they call culotte; In short, for strokes of humour quite the thing. An old strip'd woollen nightcap grac'd his head, To many a jovial club this King was known,

A tatter'd waistcoat o'er one shoulder spread With whom his active wit unrivall'd shone:

Scarce half awake; be hcav'd a yawning note. Choice spirit, grave free-mason, buck and blood, Tho' thus untimely rous'ul, he courteous smild, Would crowd his stories and bon-mots to hear; And soon address'd our wag in accents mild, And done a disappointment e'er could fear,

Bending his head politely to his knceHis humour flow'd in such a copious flood. Pray, Sare, vat vant you, dat you come so late? To him a frolic was a high delight;

I beg your pardon, Sare, to make you vait : A frolic he would hunt for day and night,

Pray, tell me, Sare, vat your coinmands vid me! Careless how prudence on the sport might frown:

“Sir," replied King, “ I merely thought to know, If e'er a pleasant mischief sprung to view,

As by your house, I chanc'd to-night to go At once o'er hedge and ditch away he flew;

But really I distub’d your sleep, I fear! Nor left the game till he had run it down. I say, I thought that you, perhaps, could tell,

Among the folks who in this street may dwell, One night our hero, rambling with a friend,

If there's a Mr. Thomson lodge3 here!"
Near fam'd St. Giles's chanc'd his course to bend,
Just by that spot the Seven Dials hight:

The sliv'ring Frenchman, tho' not pleas'd to find 'Twas silence all around, and clear the coast ;

The business of this unimportant Lind, The watch, as usual, dozing on his post;

Too simple to suspect 'twas meant in jeer, And scarce a lamp display'd a twinkling light.

Shrugg'd out a sigh, that thus his rest should break;

Then, with unalter'd courtesy he spakeAround this place there liv'd the num'rous clans 'No, Sare ; no Monsieur Tonson lodges here." Oi bonest, plodding, foreign artizans, Known at that time by name of Refugees :

Our wag begg'd pardon, and tow'rds home he sped, The rod of persecution, from their home

While the poor Frenchman crawlid again to bed; Compellid the inoffensive race to roam;

But King resolv'd not thus to drop the jest:

So, the next night, with more of whim than grace, And here they lighted like a swarm of bees.

Again he made a visit to the place, Well! our two friends were saunt'ring through the To break once more the poor old Frenchman's rest. street,

He knock'd—but waited longer than before ;
In hopes some food for humour soon to meet;

No footstep seem'd approaching to the door :
When, in a window near, a light they view,
And, though a dim and melancholy ray,

Our Frenchman lay in such a sleep profound.

King with the knocker thunder'd then again,
It seem'd the prologue to some merry play; Firm on his post determin'd to reinain;
So tow'rds the gloomy dome our hero drew.

And oft, indeed, he made the door resound. Straight at the door he gave a thund'ring knock At last King hears him o'er the passage creep, The time we may suppose near two o'clock. Wond'ring what fiend again disturbid his sleep, " I'll ask," says King, “if Thomson lodges here."

The wag salutes him with a civil leer; " Thomson !" cries t'other," who the devil's he?" Thus drawling out, to heighten the surprise, "I know not,” King replies ; " but want to see While the poor Frenchman rubb'd his heavy eyes What kind of animal will now appear.”

Is there-a Mr. Thomson lodges here?"

The Frenchman falter'd with a kind of fright Our hero, with the firmness of a rock,

Vy Sare, I'm sure I tell you, Sare, last night !" Collected to receive the mighty shock,
And here he labour'd with a sigh sincere

Utt'ring the old inquiry, calmly stood. 6 No Monsieur Tonson in the varld I know; The name of Thomson rais'd the storm so high, No Monsieur Tonson here-I told you so;

He deem'd it, then, the safest plan to fly, Indeed, Sare, dere no Monsieur Tonson here !" With-“Well,I'll call when you're in gentler mood." Some more excuses tender'd, off King goes; In short, our hero, with the same intent, And the old Frenchman sought once more repose. Full many a night, to plague the Frenchman, went;

The rogue next night pursu'd his old career : So fond of mischief was the wicked wit! 'Twas long, indeed, before the man came nigh; They throw out water, for the watch they call, And then he utter'd in a piteous cry

But King, expecting, still escapes from all. “ Sare, ’pon my soul no Monsieur Tonson here !" Monsieur, at last, was forc'd his house to quit. Our sportive wight his usual visit paid;

It happen'd that our wag, about this time, And, the next night, came forth a prattling maid, On some fair prospect, sought the eastern clime :

Whose tongue, indeed, than any jack went faster ! Six ling'ring years were, there, his tedious lot! Anxious she strove his errand to inquire;

At length, content, amid his ripening store, He said 'twas vain her pretty tongue to tire ;

lle treads again on Britain's happy shore, He should not stir till he had seen her master. Aud his long absence is at once forget. The damsel then began in doleful state,

To London with impatient hope he flies, The Frenchman's broken slumbers to relate, And the same night as former freaks arise,

And begg'd he'd call at proper time of day: He fain must stroll, the well-known haunt to trace. King told her, she must fetch her master down; “ Ah! here's the scene of frequent mirth," he said : A chaise was ready-he was leaving town;

My poor old Frenchman, I suppose, is dead. But first had much of deep concern to say.

Egad! I'll knock, and see who holds his place." Thus urg'd, she went the snoring man to call; With rapid strokes he makes the mansion roar ; And long, indeed, was she oblig'd to bawl,

And while he, eager, eyes the op'ning door, Ere she could rouse the torpid lump of clay : Lo! who obeys the knocker's rattling peal? At last he wakes-he rises--and he swears;

Why e'en our Frenchman ! Strange perhaps to say, But, scarcely had he totter'd down the stairs, He took his old abode that very day :When King attacks him in the usual way.

Capricious turn of sportive fortune's wheel ! The Frenchman now perceiv'd 'twas all in vain, Without one thought of the relentless foe! To this tormentor mildly to complain,

Who, fiend-like, haunted him so long ago, And straight in rage began his crest to rear

Just in his former trim he now appears : “ Sare, vat de devil make you treat me so ?

The waistcoat and the nightcap seemed the same; Sare, I inform you, Sare, tree nights ago :

With rushlight, as before, he creeping came; Got dam, I swear, no Monsieur Tonson here !" And King's detested voice astonishi'd hears, True as the night King went and heard a strife As if some hideous spectre struck his sight, Between the harass'd Frenchman and his wife, His senses seem'd bewilder'd with affright;

Which should descend to chase the fiend away: His face, indeed, bespoke a heart full sore : At length to join their forces they agree;

Then, starting, he exclaim'd, in rueful straiuAnd straight impetuously they turn the key,

Begar! here's Monsieur Tonson come again !" Prepar'd with mutual fury for the fray.

Away he ran ; and ne'er was heard of more.

AN EYE TO BUSINESS,

THE PILGRIMS AND THE PEAS.

[ocr errors]

" How now !" the light-toed, whitewash'd, pilgrim

broke, A surveyor of taxes for the ward of Chester in the

“ You lazy lubber!" county of Durham, whose income is derivable from

“ Od's curse it !" cried the t'other, “ 'tis no joke surcharges, requested a friend to furnish him with a motto for a seal. The latter recommended him to

My feet, once hard as any rock,

Are now as soft as blubber.
take the last words of Marmion, “ Charge, Chester,
charge,”

Excuse me, Virgin Mary, that I swear ;
As for Loretto, I shall not get there;
No! to the dev'l my sinful soul must go,

For d-me if I ha'nt lost every toe.
A brace of sinners, for no good,
Were ordered to the Virgin Mary's shrine,

But, brother sinner, do explain
Who at Loretto dwelt, in wax, stone, wood,

How 'tis that you are not in pain;
And, in a curl'd white wig, look'd wond’rous fine. Whilst 1, just like a snail, am crawling,

What power hath work'd a wonder for your toes 3
Fifty long miles had these sad rogues to travel, Now swearing, now on saints devoutly bawling,
With something in their shoes much worse than Whilst not a rascal comes to ease my woes. ?
gravel :

How is't that you can like a greyhound go, In short, their toes, so gentle to amuse,

As merry, as if nought had happen'd, burn ye!' The priest had order'd peas into their shoes.

'Why," cry'd the other, grinning, "you must know, A nostrum famous in old Popish times

That just before I ventur'd on my journey, For purifying souls that stunk with crimes,

To walk a little more at ease, A sort of apostolic salt,

I took the liberty to boil my peas." P. PINDAR. That Popish parsons for its powers exalt, For keeping souls of sinners sweet, Just as our kitchen salt keeps meat.

An Irishman was once brought up before a magis

trate, charged with marrying six wives. The magisThe knaves set off on the same day,

trate asked him how he could be so hardened a Peas in their shoes, to go and pray,

villain ? Please your Worship, (says Paddy) I was But very different was their speed, I wot: trying to get a good one. One of the sinners gallop'd on, Lieht as a bullet from a gun,

Henderson the actor was seldom known to be in The other limp'd as if he had been shot.

a passion. When at Oxford he was one day debating One saw the Virgin, soon peccavi cry'd

with a fellow.student, who, not keeping his temper, Had his soul whitewash'd all so clever :

threw a glass of wine in his face. Mr. Henderson When home again he nimbly hied,

took out his handkerchief, wiped his face, and coolly Made fit with saints above to live for ever. said, " That, Sir, was a digression ; now for the arlo corning back, however, let me say,

gument.”
He met his brother rogue about hall way:
Hobbling with out-stretch'd bum and bending knees, Frank Haman, once a brother of the brush,
Damning the souls and bodies of the peas :

Had talents much distinguish'd in his day;
His eyes in tears, his cheeks and brow in sweat, But for his art he hardly car'd a rush,
Deep sympathizing with his groaning feet.

If some odd mischief stuinbled in his way,

A CHOICE.

A COOL RETORT.

FRANK HAMAN.

This wag was deem'd by all the social tribe | The sight of this refreshing place,
A jovial, easy, careless, pleasant "fellow, .

The scent that hails him from the door,
Fond of a frolic, ready at a gibe,

Arrest at once his rambling pacem And sometimes in his cups a little mellow.

As they had often done before. He, being tempted by a pleasant day,

Mine host, with accents that were wondrous kind, After a long contention with the gout, A foe that oft besieg'd him, sallied out,

Invites him in, a jolly crew to join; To breathe fresh air, and wile an hour away.

The man the gen'rous courtesy declin'd, It chanc'd as he was strolling, void of care,

Merely, perhaps, for want of thirst-or coin. A drunken porter pass'd him with a hare. Straight'on a bench without, he stretched along,

Regardless of the passing throng, The hare was o'er his shoulder flung,

And soon his weary eyelids close,
Dangling behind, in piteous plight,

While Somnus soothes him to repose.
And as he crept in zig-zag style,
Making the most of every mile,

The hare now prostrate at his back,
From side to side poor pussy swung,

This was the time to get a snack. As if each moment taking flight.

The dog, unable longer to refrain,

Gaz'd at the hare, A dog, who saw the man's condition,

Who caus'd his care, A lean and hungry politician,

Jumpt and bit, jumpt and bit, jumpt and bit, and On the look-out, was lurking close behind;

bit again. A sly and subtle chap, Of most sagacious smell,

At length, when he had clear'd away the rest, Like politicians of a higher kind,

The sated spoiler finish'd on the breast.
Ready to snap

Then having made a hearty meal,
At any thing that fell.

He carelessly iurn’d on his heel, The porter stagger'd on, the dog kept near,

Nor thought of asking “What's to pay?" Watching the lucky minute for a bite,

But scamper'd at his ease away; Now made a spring, and then drew back with fear, Perhaps to find some four-foot fair, While Haman follow'd, tittring at the sight.

And tell the story of the bare. Great was the contrast 'twixt the man and dog ; And here some sage, with moral spleen, may say, The one a negligent and stupid lout,

“ This llaman should have driv'n the dog away, That seem'd to know not what he was about;

Th' effects of vice the blameless should not bear, The other keen, observant, all agog.

And folks that are not drunkards lose their hare." Nor need it wonderment excite, I ween,

All this we grant is very trueThat Haman clos'd the train to mark the scene, But in this giddy world how few Thro' many a street our tipsy porter reels,

To virtue's heights subiimely more, Then stops—as if to solemn thoughts inclin'd Relinquishing the things they love. The watchful dog was ready at his heels,

Not so unfashionably good, And Haman hobbled on not far behind.

Our waggish painter laughing stood, Then rolling on again, the man survey'd

In hopes more sport to find One of those happy mansions, where

Dispos'd to keep in view his game, A cordial drop imparts its cheering aid

And with th' ambitious Thane exclaim, To all the thirsty sons of care.

“The greatest is behind."

« VorigeDoorgaan »