"On the whole, it appears, and my argument shows, With a reasoning the court will never condemn, That the spectacles, plainly, were made for the Nose, And the Nose was, as plainly, intended for them." Then shifting his side (as a lawyer knows how), KNIFE-GRINDer. Story! God bless you! I have none to tell, sir; Constables came up for to take me into I should be glad to drink your honor's health in So his lordship decreed, with a grave, solemn But for my part, I never love to meddle tone, Decisive and clear, without one if or but, shut. WILLIAM COWPER. With politics, sir. Wretch whoin no sense of wrongs can rouse to vengeance, THE FRIEND OF HUMANITY AND THE KNIFE- Sordid, unfeeling, reprobate, degraded, GRINDER.* FRIEND OF HUMANITY. NEEDY knife-grinder! whither are you going? in 't; So have your breeches! Weary knife-grinder! little think the proud ones, When, opening his toothpick-case, one said, Who in their coaches roll along the turnpikeRoad, what hard work 't is crying all day, ‘Knives and Scissors to grind O!' "It was not until lately that I knew deed, Like other fish, but not upon the land; Tell me, knife-grinder, how came you to grind You might as well say grapes grow on a reed, knives? Did some rich man tyrannically use you? Was it the squire for killing of his game? or Or in the Strand !" "Why, sir," returned the irritated other, A lie for love or money, sir; so in This matter you are thoroughly mistaken." "Nonsense, sir! nonsense! I can give no credit none e'er saw or read it; Your brother, like his evidence, should be shaken." (Have you not read the Rights of Man, by Tom To the assertion, Paine ?) Drops of compassion tremble on my eyelids, Pitiful story. • A burlesque upon the humanitarian sentiments of Southey in "Sir," said the other, sucking his cigar, his younger days, as well as of the Sapphic stanzas in which he sometimes embodied them. And then his port, With pistols, powder, bullets, surgeons, lint, Seconds, and smelling-bottles, and foreboding, Our friends advanced; and now portentous loading (Their hearts already loaded) served to show It might be better they shook hands, - but no; When each opines himself, though frightened, right, Each is, in courtesy, obliged to fight! And they did fight: from six full-measured paces The unbeliever pulled his trigger first; And fearing, from the braggart's ugly faces, The whizzing lead had whizzed its very worst, Ran up, and with a duelistic fear (His ire evanishing like morning vapors), Found him possessed of one remaining ear, Who in a manner sudden and uncouth, Had given, not lent, the other ear to truth; For while the surgeon was applying lint, He, wriggling, cried, 'The deuce is in 'tSir! I meant -CAPERS!" WILLIAM BASIL WAKE. THE PILGRIMS AND THE PEAS. A BRACE of sinners, for no good, Were ordered to the Virgin Mary's shrine, Who at Loretto dwelt, in wax, stone, wood, And in a fair white wig looked wondrous fine. "Friend," quoth the razor-man, "I'm not a SWANS sing before they die,- 't were no bad thing knave; Did certain persons die before they sing. THE WELL OF ST. KEYNE. "In the parish of St. Neots, Cornwall, is a well arched over with the robes of four kinds of trees, withy, oak, elm, and ash, -and dedicated to St. Keyne. The reported virtue of the water is this, that, whether husband or wife first drink thereof, they get the mastery thereby."- FULLER. A WELL there is in the West country, An oak and an elm tree stand beside, A traveler came to the well of St. Keyne; Pleasant it was to his eye, For from cock-crow he had been traveling, And there was not a cloud in the sky. He drank of the water so cool and clear, Under the willow-tree. There came a man from the neighboring town And bade the stranger hail. "Now art thou a bachelor, stranger?" quoth he, "For an if thou hast a wife, The happiest draught thou hast drank this day That ever thou didst in thy life. "Or has your good woman, if one you have, In Cornwall ever been? For an if she have, I'll venture my life She has drunk of the well of St. Keyne." Dozing with headaches till the afternoon, Lose half men's regular estate of sun, By borrowing too largely of the moon. One of this kidney - Toby Tosspot hight Not straight, like Corkscrew's proxy, stiff Don "I have left a good woman who never was here," At length, with near four bottles in his pate, The stranger he made reply; He saw the moon shining on Shove's brass plate, "But that my draught should be better for that, When reading, "Please to ring the bell," SIR MARMADUKE was a hearty knight, Good man! old man! With his hose rolled over his knee; His dining-room was long and wide, - And in other parts, d' ye see, Of an ancient family. He never turned the poor from the gate, Good man! old man! But was always ready to break the pate Of his country's enemy. What knight could do a better thing And so may every head Of an ancient family. GEORGE COLMAN THE YOUNGER. THE FINE OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN.* I'LL sing you a good old song, His hall so old was hung around That had stood some tough old blows; 'T was there "his worship" held his state In doublet and trunk hose, And quaffed his cup of good old sack, When winter's cold brought frost and snow, He opened house to all; And though threescore and ten his years, He featly led the ball; Nor was the houseless wanderer E'er driven from his hall; For while he feasted all the great, But time, though old, is strong in flight, And Autumn's falling leaves proclaimed Gave up life's latest sigh; And mournful stillness reigned around, Now surely this is better far "At home" and masquerade : All of the olden time. ANONYMOUS Modeled upon an old black-letter song, called "The Old and Young Courtier." |