I. wides in the horse-cars. I "I think you ought to resign, get out, you know." And then, though I'm sure I spoke in the most wespectful manner, he put his fist under my nose and wemarked, "You'll eat that, hang you, in a minute!" he did, indeed. And a fellah opposite said, "Put a head on him, Jim!" suppose from his tone that it was some colloquial expwession of the lower orders, referring to a personal attack. It was vewy disagweeable, indeed. I don't see why any fellah ever But I didn't want a wow, you know. A fellah is apt to get a black eye, and a black eye spoils one's appeawance, don't you think? So I said, "Beg pardon, I'm sure." The fellah said, "O, hang you!" he did, indeed. He was a vewy ill-bred person. And all this time the car kept stopping, and more persons of the lower orders kept getting on. A vewy dweadful woman with a vewy dweadful baby stood right before me, intercepting my view of the street; and the baby had an orange in one hand and some candy in the other. And I was wondering why persons of the lower classes were allowed to have such dirty babies, and why Bergh or some one didn't interfere, you know, when, before I knew what she was doing, that dweadful woman sat that dweadful baby wight down on my lap! She did, indeed. And it took hold of my shirt bosom with one of its sticky hands, and took my eye-glass away with the other, and, upon my honour, I'm quite lost without my eyeglass. "You'll have to kape him till I find me money,' said the woman. "Weally!" said I, "I'm not a nurserymaid, ma'am." Then the people about me laughed, they did, indeed. I could not endure it. I jumped up and dwopped the baby in the straw. "Stop the car, conductor," said I, "stop the car." What do suppose he said? Hurry up now, be lively, be lively, don't keep me waiting all day! And I was about to wemonstrate with him upon the impwopwiety of speaking so to a gentleman, when he pushed me off the car. 66 That was the only time I ever wode in a horsecar. I wonder why fellahs ever do wide in horse-cars? I should think they would pwefer cabs, you know. FRENCH. THE FRENCHMAN AND THE FLEA-POWDER. A FRENCHMAN once so runs a certain ditty – Had cross'd the Straits to famous London city, To get a living by the arts of France, And teach his neighbour, rough John Bull, to dance. But, lacking pupils, vain was all his skill; He mused within himself what he should do And soon, throughout all London, scatter'd he And, sure enough, the self-same woman bawl'd, - From the same window where before she stood. 66 Hey, there," said she, "You Monsher Powder-man ! Escape my clutches now, sir, if you can; I'll let you dirty, thieving Frenchmen know That decent people won't be cheated so." Then spoke Monsieur, and heaved a saintly sigh, "Ah, Madame! s'il vous plait, attendez vous, My poudare gran! magnifique! why abuse him? First, you must wait until you catch de flea; Den, tickle he on de petite rib, you see; And, when he laugh, aha! he ope his troat; Den poke de poudare down! — BEGAR! HE CHOKE. 8389 A FRENCHMAN ON MACBETH. AN enthusiastic French student of Shakespeare thus comments on the tragedy of Macbeth: 6 "Ah! your Mossieu' Shak-es-pier! He is gr-aä-nd mysterieuse-so-blime! You 'ave reads ze Macabess? ze scene of ze Mossieu' Macabess vis ze Vitch, eh? Superb sooblimitée! W'en he say to ze Vitch, Ar-r-roynt ze, Vitch!' she go away: but what she say when she go away ? She say she will do s'omesing dat aves got no naäme! Ah, ha!' she say, 'I go, like ze r-r-aä-t vizout ze tail, but I'll do! I'll do! I'll DO!' Wa't she do? Ah, ha! voila le graand mystérieuse Mossieu' Shak-es-pier! She not say what she do!" 6 This was "grand," to be sure: but the prowess of Macbeth, in his "bout" with Macduff, awakens all the mercurial Frenchman's martial ardour: "Mossieu' Macabess, he see him come, clos' by; he say (proud empressement), Come o-o-n, Mossieu' Macduffs, and d-d be he who first say Enoffs!' Zen zey fi-i-ght moche. Ah, ha!- voila! Mossieu' Macabess, vis his br-r-ight r-r-apier pink' him, vat you call, in his body. He 'ave gots mal d'estomac : he say, vis grand simplicité, 'Enoffs!' What for he say 'Enoffs? 'Cause he got enoffs --plaäinty; and he expire, r-r-ight away, 'mediately, pretty quick! Ah, mes amis, Mossieu' Shak-es-pier is rising man in La Belle France !" MONSIEUR TONSON. THERE lived, as Fame reports, in days of yore, A pleasant wight in town, yclept Tom King, Expert in all the arts to tease and smoke; -- In short, for strokes of humour quite the thing. To many a jovial club this King was known, Choice spirit, grave free-mason, buck and blood, To him a frolic was a high delight; Careless how prudence on the sport might frown: One night, our hero, rambling with a friend, The watch, as usual, dozing on his post, And scarce a lamp display'd a twinkling light. Around this place there lived the numerous clans Known at that time by name of refugees. And here they lighted, like a swarm of bees. Well! our two friends were sauntering through the street, So towards the gloomy dome our hero drew. Straight at the door he gave a thundering knock, (The time we may suppose near two o'clock.) 66 "I'll ask," says King, "if Thompson lodges here." Thompson," cries t'other, "who the devil's he?" "I know not," King replies, "but want to see What kind of animal will now appear." After some time a little Frenchman came; Though thus untimely roused he courteous smiled, Pray, sare, vat vant you, dat you come so late? Pray tell me, sare, vat your commands vid me?" |