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You bring me vat you call your goose, your cheese,
You ask-a-me to eat-I tell you, Vat you please !
Down came the master, each explain'd the case,
The one with oursing, t'other with grimace ;
But Boniface, who dearly loved a jest
(Although sometimes he dearly paid for it),
And finding nothing could be done (you know,
That when a man has got no money,
To make him pay some would be rather funny),

Of a bad bargain made the best,
Acknowledged much was to be said for it,
Took pity on the Frenchman's meagre face,

And, Briton-like, forgave a fallen foe,

Laugh'd heartily, and let him go. Our Frenchman's hunger thus subdued, Away he trotted in a merry mood ; When, turning round the corner of a street, Who but his countryman he chanced to meet. To him, with many a shrug and many a grin, He told how he had taken Jean Bull in ! Fired with the tale, the other licks his chops, Makes his congé, and seeks this shop of shops. Entring, he seats himself, just at his ease : “What will you take, sir ?”—“Vat you please !" The waiter look'd as pale as Paris plaster, And, upstairs running, thus address'd his master : “ These vile Mounseers come over sure in pairs ; Sir, there's another 'vat you please !' down stairs.” Th's made the landlord rather crusty, For much of one thing—the proverb's somewhat musty. Once to be done, his anger didn't touch,

But when a second time they tried the treason,

It made him crusty, sir, and with good reasonYou would be crusty were you done so much.

There is a kind of instrument Which greatly helps a serious argument, And which, when properly applied, occasions Some most unpleasant tickling sensations. 'Twould make more clumsy folks than Frenchmen skip; 'Twould strike you presently--a stout horsewhip.



This instrument, our maitre d'hôte
Most carefully conceal'd beneath his coat ;
And seeking instantly the Frenchman's station,
Address'd him with the usual salutation.

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Our Frenchman, bowing to his threadbare knees,

Determined while the iron's hot to strike, Pat with his lesson answers—“Vat you please ! But scarcely had he let the sentence slip, Than round his shoulders twines the pliant whip : “Sare, sare ! ah, misericorde, parbleu ? Oh, dear Monsieur, vat make me use you so ? Vat you call dis ?“Ah ! don't you know? That's what I please,” says Bonny, “how d’ye like it ? Your friend, although I paid dear for his funning, Deserved the goose he gain'd, sir, for his cunning ; But you, Monsieur, or else my time I'm wasting, Are goose enough, and only wanted basting.



My brave associates-partners of my toil, my feelings, and my fame! Can Rolla's words add vigour to the virtuous energies which inspire your hearts ? No; you have judged, as I have, the foulness of the crafty plea by which these bold invaders would delude you. Your generous spirit has compared, as mine has, the motives which, in a war like this, can animate their minds and ours. They, by a strange frenzy driven, fight for power, for plunder, and extended rule ; we, for our country, our altars, and our homes. They follow an adventurer whom they fear, and obey a power which they hate ; we serve a monarch whom we love, a God whom we adore. Where'er they move in anger, desolation tracks their progress ; whene'er they pause in amity, affliction mourns her friends. They boast they come but to improve our state, enlarge our thoughts, and free us from the yoke of error! Yes; they will give enlightened freedom to our minds,



who are themselves the slaves of passion, avarice, and pride. They offer us their protection : yes, such protection as vultures give w lambs-covering and devouring them. They call on us to barter all of good we have inherited and proved, for the desperate chance of something better which they promise. Be our plain answer this : The throne we honour is the eople's choice—the laws we reverence are our brave fathers’ legacy—the faith we follow teaches us to live in bonds of charity with all mankind, and die with hopes of bliss beyond the grave. Tell your invaders this; and tell them, too, we seek no change; and, least of all, such change as they would bring us. Sheridan.

John Heywood, Excelsior Printing Works, IIulme Hal Road, Manchester

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