If I touched it, she would very soon say, "Mary, we must part."

To be sure she is unlucky only Friday comes Master Randall,

And breaks a broken spout, and fresh chips a tea-cup

handle:

He's a dear, sweet little child, but he will so finger and touch,

And that's why my Lady doesn't take to children much. Well, there's stupid Mr. Lambert, with his two greatcoat

flaps,

Must go and sit down on the Dresden shepherdesses'

laps,

As if there was no such things as rosewood chairs in the

I couldn't have made a greater sweep with the handle of the broom.

Mercy on us! how my mistress began to rave and tear! Well, after all, there's nothing like good ironstone ware for wear.

If ever I marry, that's flat, I'm sure it won't be John Dockery

I should be a wretched woman in a shop full of crockery. I should never like to wipe it, though I love to be neat

and tidy,

And afraid of mad bulls on market-days every Monday and Friday.

I'm very much mistook if Mr. Lambert's will be a catch; The breaking the Chiney will be the breaking-off of his own match.

Missis wouldn't have an angel, if he was careless about

Chiney;

She never forgives a chip, if it's ever so small and tiny. Lawk! I never saw a man in all my life in such a taking ; I could find it in my heart to pity him for all his mischief

making.

To see him stand a-hammering and stammering, like a

zany;

But what signifies apologies, if they won't mend old

Chaney !

If he sent her up whole crates full, from Wedgwood's and Mr. Spode's,

He couldn't make amends for the crack'd mandarins and smash'd toads.

Well! every one has their tastes, but, for my part, my own self,

I'd rather have the figures on my poor dear grandmother's old shelf:

A nice pea-green poll-parrot, and two reapers with brown ears of corns,

And a shepherd with a crook after a lamb with two gilt

horns,

And such a Jemmy Jessamy in top-boots and sky-blue

vest,

And a frill and flower'd waistcoat, with a fine bow-pot at the breast.

God help her, poor old soul! I shall come into 'em at her

death;

Though she's a hearty woman for her years, except her shortness of breath.

Well! you may think the things will mend-if they won't, Lord mend us all!

My lady will go in fits, and Mr. Lambert won't need to

call;

I'll be bound in any money, if I had a guinea to give,
He won't sit down again on Chiney the longest day he

has to live.

Poor soul! I only hope it won't forbid his banns of marriage;

Or he'd better have sat behind on the spikes of my Lady's

carriage.

But you'll join 'em all of course, and stand poor Mr. Lambert's friend,

I'll look in twice a day, just to see, like, how they mend. To be sure it is a sight that might draw tears from dogs

and cats,

Here's this pretty little pagoda, now, has lost four of its cocked hats.

Be particular with the pagoda: and then here's this pretty bowl-

The Chinese Prince is making love to nothing because of this hole;

And here's another Chinese man, with a face just like

a doll,

Do stick his pigtail on again, and just mend his parasol. But I needn't tell you what to do, only do it out of hand, And charge whatever you like to charge-my Lady won't make a stand.

Well! good morning, Mr. What-d'ye-call, for it's time our gossip ended:

And you know the proverb, the less as is said, the sooner the Chiney's mended.

DOMESTIC DIDACTICS

BY AN OLD SERVANT

I

THE BROKEN DISH

WHAT'S life but full of care and doubt
With all its fine humanities,

With parasols we walk about,
Long pigtails, and such vanities.

We plant pomegranate trees and things,
And go in gardens sporting,
With toys and fans of peacocks' wings,
To painted ladies courting.

We gather flowers of every hue,
And fish in boats for fishes,
Build summer-houses painted blue,-
But life's as frail as dishes!

Walking about their groves of trees,
Blue bridges and blue rivers,
How little thought them two Chinese,
They'd both be smashed to shivers!

II

ODE TO PEACE

WRITTEN ON THE NIGHT OF MY MISTRESS'S GRAND ROUT

Он Peace, oh come with me and dwell-
But stop, for there's the bell.

Oh Peace! for thee I go and sit in churches
On Wednesday, when there's very few
In loft or pew-

Another ring, the tarts are come from Birch's.

Oh Peace! for thee I have avoided marriage-
Hush! there's a carriage.

Oh Peace! thou art the best of earthly goods-
The five Miss Woods!

Oh Peace! thou art the goddess I adore-
There come some more.

Oh Peace! thou child of solitude and quiet—
That's Lord Dunn's footman, for he loves a riot !

Oh Peace!

Knocks will not cease.

Oh Peace! thou wert for human comfort plann'd— That's Weippert's band.

Oh Peace! how glad I welcome thy approaches-
I hear the sound of coaches.

Oh Peace! oh Peace! another carriage stops-
It's early for the Blenkinsops.

Oh Peace! with thee I love to wander,
But wait till I have showed up Lady Squander,
And now I've seen her up the stair,

Oh Peace-but here comes Captain Hare.

Oh Peace! thou art the slumber of the mind,
Untroubled, calm and quiet, and unbroken,-
If that is Alderman Guzzle from Portsoken,
Alderman Gobble won't be far behind.
Oh Peace! serene in worldly shyness,-
Make way there for his Serene Highness!

Oh Peace! if you do not disdain
To dwell amongst the menial train,
I have a silent place and lone,
That you and I may call our own;
Where tumult never makes an entry-

Susan! what business have you in my pantry?

Oh Peace! but there is Major Monk,

At variance with his wife-Oh Peace! And that great German, Vander Trunk,