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The washing week approached; an awful question
Now agitated Rose with pangs inhuman,
How to supply the Mammoth-like digestion

Of that carnivorous beast-a washer-woman.
A camel's paunch for ten day's drink is hollowed,

So theirs takes in at once a ten days' munching; At twelve o'clock you hear them say they've swallowed Nothing to speak of, since their second luncheon, And as they will not dine till one,

"Tis time their third lunch was begun.

At length provisions being got all proper, And everything put out, starch, blue, soap, gin; A fire being duly laid beneath the copper, The clothes in soak all ready to begin ;

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Up to her room the industrious Betty goes

To fetch her sheets, and screams down stairs to Rose, La, goodness me! why here's a job!

You ha'nt put out a second pair."

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No more I have," said Mrs. Grob; 'Well, that's a good un I declare! "Sure I've the most forgetful head,

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And there's no time to air another, "So take one sheet from off your bed,

"And make a shift, to-night, with t'other."
On Rose's part this was a ruse-de-guerre,
To save the expense of washing half a pair;
But as the biter's sometimes bitten,

So, in this instance, it occurred,

For Betty took her at her word;

And, with the bright conception smitten,
Sat
up all night, and, with good thrift,
Of needle, scissors, thimble, thread,

Cut up one sheet into a shift,

And took the other off the bed!

Next morn,

when Mrs. Grob, at three o'clock,

Went up to call the maid,

And saw the mischief done by aid Of scissors, thread, and needle,

It

There's no describing what a shock gave her to behold the sheet in tatters; And so, by way of mending matters,

She called her cheat, and slut, and jade,

And talked of sending for the beadle!

'La, Ma'am" quoth Betty; "don't make such a pother,

"I've done exactly what you've said,

"Taken one sheet from off the bed,

"And made a shift to-night with t'other."

HORACE SMITH.

THE COLLEGIAN AND THE PORTER.

(From "Gaieties and Gravities.")

At Trin. Coll. Cam.-which means, in proper spelling,
Trinity College, Cambridge,-there resided
One Harry Dashington-a youth excelling
In all the learning commonly provided

For those who choose that classic station
For finishing their education :

That is he understood computing

The odds at any race or match; Was a dead hand at pigeon shooting;

Could kick up rows-knock down the watch

Play truant and the rake at random

Drink-tie cravats-and drive a tandem.

Remonstrance, fine, and rustication,

So far from working reformation,

Seem'd but to make his lapses greater;

Till he was warn'd that next offence
Would have this certain consequence—
Expulsion from his Alma Mater.

One need not be a necromancer

To guess that with so wild a wight,
The next offence occurr'd next night;
When our Incurable came rolling

Home as the midnight chimes were tolling,

And rang the College bell.-No answer.—

The second peal was vain-the third
Made the street echo its alarum ;
When to his great delight he heard
The sordid Janitor, old Ben,

Rousing and growling in his den.

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'Who's there?—I s'pose young Harum-scarum.” 'Tis I, my worthy Ben-'tis Harry.

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"Ay, so I thought—and there you'll tarry;

"Tis past the hour-the gates are closed-
"You know my orders-I shall lose
"My place if I undo the door"-
"And I," (young Hopeful interposed),
"Shall be expell'd if you refuse,
"So pr'ythee"-Ben began to snore.—
"I'm wet," cried Harry, "to the skin,

"Hip! hallo! Ben-don't be a ninny;
"Beneath the gate I've thrust a guinea,

"So tumble out and let me in."

"Humph!" growl'd the greedy old Curmudgeon, Half overjoy'd and half in dudgeon,

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'Now you may pass, but make no fuss,

On tiptoe walk and hold your prate.'

"Look on the stones, old Cerberus,"

Cried Harry as he pass'd the gate, "I've dropp'd a shilling-take the light, "You'll find it just outside-good night."

Behold the porter in his shirt,

Chiding the rain which never stopp'd,

Groping and raking in the dirt,
And all without success; but that
Is hardly to be wonder'd at,

Because no shilling had been dropp'd;

So he gave o'er the search at last,

Regain'd the door,-and found it fast;

With sundry oaths and growls and groans,

He rang once-twice-and thrice; and ther,

Mingled with giggling heard the tones

Of Harry mimicking old Ben.

'Who's there?-'Tis really a disgrace To ring so loud-I 've lock'd the gate"I know my duty-'Tis too late"You wouldn't have me lose my place."

"Psha! Mr. Dashington: remember; "'Tis the middle of November.

"I'm stripp'd;-'tis raining cats and dogs." "Hush, hush!" quoth Hal, "I'm fast asleep; "And then he snored as loud and deep

"As a

whole company of hogs.

"But hark ye, Ben, I'll grant admittance
"At the same rate I paid myself."-
"Nay, Master, leave me half the pittance,"
Replied the avaricious elf.

"No: all or none— a full acquittance;
"The terms I know are somewhat high;
"But you have fix'd the price, not I-

"I won't take less;-I can't afford it."

So finding all his haggling vain,
Ben, with a sigh and groan of pain,

Drew out the guinea and restored it.

"Surely you'll give me," growl'd th' outwitted
Porter, when again admitted,

"Something, now you've done your joking,
For all this trouble, time, and soaking."
“Oh, surely-surely," Harry said;

"Since as you urge, I broke your rest,

"And you 're half drown'd and quite undress'd,

I'll give you,-leave to go to bed."

HORACE SMITH.

THE COUNTRY FELLOWS AND THE ASS.

A COUNTRY fellow and his son, they tell
In modern fables, had an ass to sell:
For this intent they turned it out to play,
And fed so well, that by the destined day,
They brought the creature into sleek repair,
And drove it gently to a neighbouring fair.

As they were jogging on, a rural class

Was heard to say, "Look! look there, at that ass! "And those two blockheads trudging on each side, "That have not, either of 'em, sense to ride;

Asses all three !" And thus the country folks
On man and boy began to cut their jokes.

Th' old fellow minded nothing that they said,
But
every word stuck in the young one's head;
And thus began their comment thereupon:
"Ne'er heed 'm, lad."

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Nay, father, do get on.'
Why then let me, I pray."

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"Well do; and see what prating tongues. will say.”

The boy was mounted; and they had not got
Much further on, before another knot,
Just as the ass was pacing by, pad, pad,
Cried, "O! that lazy looby of a lad!
"How unconcernedly the gaping brute

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Lets the poor aged fellow walk a-foot."

Down came the son, on hearing this account,

And begged and prayed, and made his father mount:
Till a third party, on a further stretch,

"See! see!" exclaimed, "that old hard-hearted wretch! "How like a justice there he sits, or squire;

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While the poor lad keeps wading through the mire."

Stop," cried the lad, still vexed in deeper mind,

Stop, father, stop; let me get on behind."

This done, they thought they certainly should please,
Escape reproaches, and be both at ease;
For having tried each practicable way,
What could be left for jokers now to say

Still disappointed, by succeeding tone,

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Hark ye, you fellows! Is that ass your own? "Get off, for shame! or one of you at least! "You both deserve to carry the poor beast,

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Ready to drop down dead upon the road,
With such a huge, unconscionable load."

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