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Writun by Miles Peter Andrews, Esq.
Once more, my friends, here's Nominal the glorious,
What's lise without it? Ask the Buck, the Wit;
"No sellow in the town shall me out top;
See the sine wife of some plain country 'Squire,
Thiw wide diffus'd thro' all this bustling town Reigns the strong principle of being known—. Above the restr—amongst the wits most witty, In dress and talk,'s your Jemmy from the city. His coat, by some unlucky taytar trusted, Hangs offhis back, as going to be dusted j While in the Upper Boxes, fully known, He sports a language which is quite his own. "Eh, Jack! On Change to day? How goes Lot.Tick? * Ha—seen Bob's Curricle—it goes curst quick. «c The Builder fays—'twixt us—it goes on tick— "Been dipping, hey, at Margate or at Brighton? "Touch'd ten last night, andev'ry one a light one. M Hey, Tom, how do?—Oh, is that you,Dick Docket! "You've stole my stick—No, damme, it's inmypoCK.et." There's proos enough, we trust you will agree, That lise's great aim, is Notoriery. Our Bard and I, acknowledge both this seature, And hope we shall be known by your good nature.
Nominal, ----- Mr. Lewis.
Lord Jargon, - - -
Lady Acid, - - - - Mrs. Webb.
(Wardto Sir Andrew )}