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Blow out your candles—thus—and thus, Pocket your silver candlesticks,
And walk off—thus— So said—so J one—he made no more remark,
Nor waited for replies,
But marched off with his prize, Leaving the gouty merchant in the dark.
Ere night her sable curtains spread;
In Thetis's lap;
Their early nap,
A wight, by hungry fiend made bold,
Did slyly creep,
In the arms of sleep.
No doubt the sheep he meant to steal,
Was ploughman Joe,
The murderous blow.
May ill luck on ill actions wait!
Be dragged by force;
With fear o'erwhelmed, the victim stands
From the elbow chair,
With brow austere.
"Rogue! what excuse hast thou for tula For to old Gilbert FitzJWaurice,
Thou knew'st full well,
Confess thy crime; 'twill naught avail
Thou didst not heed;
Thou plain mightst read."
"'Tis true, I did," the thief replies,
As I'm a glutton,
Meant—Good, Fat, Mutton!"
14. THE WIND IN A FROLIC.—Howit.
The wind one morning sprung up from sleep, Saying " Now for a frolic! now for a leap! Now for a mad-cap galloping chase! I'll make a commotion in every place!" So it swept with a bustle right through a great town, Creaking the signs, and scattering down Shutters; and whisking with merciless squalls, Old women's bonnets and gingerbread stalls; There never was heard a much lustier shout, As the apples and oranges tumbled about; And the urchins, that stand with their thievish eyes For ever on watch, ran off each with a prize. Then away to the field it went blustering and humming And the cattle all wondered whatever was coming; It plucked by their tails the grave matronly cows, And tossed the colts' manes all about their brows, Till, offended at such a familiar salute, They all turned their backs and stood silently mute. So on it went, capering and playing its pranks, Whistling with reeds on the broad river's banks; Puffing the birds as they sat on the spray, Or the traveler grave on the king's highway. It vis not too nice to bustle the bags Of the beggar, and flutter h'« dirty rags:
Twas so bold, that it feared not to play its joke
15. Short Answers.—Anonymous.
A moder n philosopher, full of inflation,
Had strolled to the valley below;
The world shall the hypocrites know."
That echo returned it with—" Oh!"
Then he turned himself round at the strange interjection,
His wit and his courage to show: "Who are you," said he, "that dare make a reflection. Or treat with contempt such a noble conception 1 Come forth to the champion of nature and reason; Your folly I'll prove, and fanatical treason,
Or crush you at once with a blow!"
Then echo said nothing but—" Boh!"
"Do you think I'm a fool," said the man, in a passion, "Or goose, to be scared by a crow »
Are the writings of deists of learning and fashion,
"Impertinent babbler! who values the notion,
But those who are artful or low?
And sinks into folly and wo?"
But echo directly said—" No!"
"'Tis enough to provoke one to cross the equator,
My knowledge far off to bestow;
16. LODGINGS FOR SINGLE GENTLEMEN. Colma*.
Who has e'er been in London, that overgrown place,
Will Waddle, whose temper was studious and lonely,
He entered his rooms, and to bed he retreated;
Next night 'twas the same!—and the next! and the ne>,
Week after week, till by weekly succession,
In six months his acquaintance began much to doubt him;
The doctor looked wise :—" a slow fever," he said;
Will kicked out the doctor:—but when ill indeed,
Look ye, landlord, I think," argued Will with a griB,
Quoth the landlord,—" Till now, I ne'er had a dispute
"Tho oven!!!"—says Will;—says the host, "Why this passion?
In that excellent bed died three people of fashion.
Why so crusty, good sir V—" Zounds!" cried Will in a taking
"Who would not be crusty, with half a year's baking?"
"Will paid for his rooms :"—cried the host with a sneer, "Well, I see you've been going away half a year." "Friend, we can't well agree;—yet no quarrel,"—Will said: "But I'd rather not perish, while you make youi biead."
17. THE RICH MAN AND THE POOR MAN. Khemn&XtT.
So goes the world; if wealthy, you may call