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• Sir, don't be dishearten'd, although it be true, Th’ operation is painful, and hazardous too, 'Tis no more than what mapy a man has gone

through; And then, as for years, you may yet be call'd young, Your life after this may be happy and long.' " Don't flatter me, Tom,' was the father's reply, With a jest in his mouth and a tear in his eye, Too well by experience my vessels, thou know'st, No sooner are tapp'd, but they give up the ghost!'

Taylor.

THE BREWER'S COACHMAN, Honest William, an easy and good-natar'd fellow, Would a little too oft get a little too mellow. Body coachman was he to an eminent brewer No better e'er sat on a box to be sore. His coach was kept clean, and no mothers or purses Took that care of their babes that he took of his

horses. He had these—ay, and fifty good qualities more, But the business of tippling could ne'er be got o'er. So his master effectually mended the matter, By hiring a man who drank nothing but water.

Now, William,' says he, ' you see the plain case; Had you drank as he does, you had kept a good place.'

[so, • Drink water!' quoth William had all men done You'd never have wanted a coachmao, I trow. They're soakers, like me, whom you load with re

proaches, That enable you brewers to ride in your coaches.'

Taylor

QUOD PETIS, HIC EST: OR, THE TANKARD. No plate had John and Joan'to hoard,

Plain folk in humble plight;
One only tankard crown'd their board,

And that was fill'd each night :
Along whose inner bottom, sketch'd

In pride of chubby grace,
Some rude engraver's hand had etch'd

A baby's angel-face.
Jobn swallow'd first a moderate sup;

But Joan was not like John;
For when her lips once touch'd the cup,

She swillid till all was gone.
John often urg'd her to drink fair,

But she ne'er chang’d a jot,
She lov'd to see the angel there,

And therefore drain’d the pot.
When John found all remonstrance vain,

Another card he play'd ;
And where the angel stood so plain,

He got a devil portray'd.

Joan saw the horns, Joan saw the tail,

Yet Joan as stontly quaff'd; And ever as she seiz'd her ale,

She clear'd it at a dranght.

Jolin star'd, with wonder petrified,

His hair stood on his pate;
And Why guzzle now,' he cried,

• At this enormous rate?' VOL. v.

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• Oh! John,' she said, am I to blame?

I can't, in conscience, stop :
For sure 'twould be a burning shame

To leave the Devil a drop! Anonymous.

POLITENESS; OR, THE CAT-O'NINE-TAILS:
Once on a time, as I've heard say,
(I neither know the year por day)
The rain distilld from many a cloud,
The night was dark, the wind was loud:
A country 'squire, without a guide,
Where roads were bad, and heath was wide,
Attended by his servant Jerry,
Was trav'ling tow'rds the town of Bury.
The 'squire had ne'er been bred in courts;
But yet was held, as fame reports,
Though he to wit made no pretence,
A 'squire of more than common sense.
Jerry, who courage could not boast,
Thought every sheep he saw a ghost;
And most devoutly pray'd he might
Escape the terrours of that night.

As they approach'd the common's side,
A peasant's cottage they espied;
There riding up, our weary 'squire
Held it most prudent to inquire,
Being nothing less than wet to skin,
Where he might find a wholesome inn.
No inns there are,' replied the clown,
' 'Twixt this and yonder market town,
Seven miles north-west, across the heath ;
And wind and rain are in your teeth.

But if so be, sir, you will go
To yon old hall upon the brow;
You'll find free entertainment there,
Down beds and rare old English fare,
Of beef and mutton, fowl and fish,
As good as any man need wish;
Warm stabling too, and corn and bay;
Yet not a penny will you pay :
'Tis true, sir, I have heard it said,"
And here he grinn'd and scratch'd his head,
* The gentleman that keeps the house,
Though every freedom he allows,
And o'er night's so woundy civil,
You'd swear he never dream'd of evil,
Orders next morn his servant John,
With cat-o’nine-tails to lay on,
Full twenty strokes, most duly counted,
On man and master ere they're mounted.'

• With cat-o’nine-tails! oh,' cried Jerry, That I were safe at Edmund's Bury!'

Our 'squire spurr'd on, as clown directed; This offer might not be rejected: Poor Jerry's prayers could not dissuade. The 'squire, more curious than afraid, Arrives, and rings; the footman runs ; The master, with his wife and sons, Descend the hall, and bid him enter; Give him dry clothes, and beg he'll venture To take a glass of Coniac brandy: And he, who hated words to handy In idle complimentary speeches, The brandy took, and eke the breeches.

The liquor drank, the garments chang'd, The family round the fire arrang’d,

The mistress begg'd to know, if he
Chose coffee, chocolate, or tea?'
The 'squire replied, sans hesitation,
Or teasing trite expostulation-
"A dish of coffee and a toast !
The mistress smild: th' enraptur'd host,
Cried, 'Sir, I like your frankness much;
This house is yours; pray think it such,
While here you stay; 'tis my request,
And you shall be a welcome guest !
Sans ceremony I would live,
And what I have I freely give.'

Tea ended, once again our host
Demanded— Sir, of boild or roast,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, do you prefer
For supper?_Why, indeed, good sir,
Roast duck I love — With good green peas?"
“Yes, dearest madam, if you please.'

• Well said! now while it's getting ready, We two, my eldest son, and lady, Will take a hand at Whist?'—' Agreed ! And soon they cut for deal, and lead.

But now to crimp my lengthen'd tale, Whether the 'squire drank wine or ale, Or how he slept, or what he said, Or how much gave to man and maid ; Or what the while became of Jerry, 'Mong footmen blithe, and maidens merry ; Description here we can't admit, For brevity's the soul of wit. Suffice to say, the morn arriv'd, Jerry, of senses half depriv'd, Horses from stable saw led out, Trembled, and skulk'd, and peer'd about,

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