281

ows.

work. Some people may think them an embellishment; but to me it is a matter of astonishment how any one can be so impertinent, to the detriment of all rudiment. But, my lud, this is not to be looked at through the medium of right and wrong; for the law knows no medium, and right and wrong are but its shadNow, in the first place, they have called a kitchen my client's premises. Now, a kitchen is nobody's premises. A kitchen is not a ware-house nor a wash-house, a brew-house nor a bakehouse, an inn-house nor an out-house, nor a dwelling-house; no, my lud, 't is absolutely and bo ́na fi'de neither more nor less than a kitchen, or, as the law more classically expresses it, a kitchen is, camera necessaria pro usus cookare; cum saucepannis, stewpannis, scullero, dressero, coal holo, stovis, smoak-jacko; pro roastandum, boilandum, fryandum, et plum-pudding-andum mixandum; pro turtle-soupos, calves-head-ashibus, cum calipee et calepashibus. But we shall not avail ourselves of an alibi, but admit of the existence of a cook-maid. Now, my lud, we shall take it upon a new ground, and beg a new trial; for, as they have curtailed our name from plain Mary into Moll, I hope the court will not admit of this; for, if the court were to allow of mistakes, what would the law do? For, when the law don't find mistakes, it is the business of the law to make them."

FAITHLESS NELLY GRAY.

Therefore, the court, after due consideration, allowed the parties the liberty of a new trial; for the law is our liberty, and it is happy for us we have the liberty to go to law.

G. A. STEVENS.

V. - FAITHLESS NELLY GRAY.

BEN BATTLE was a soldier bold, and used to war's alarms:
But a cannon-ball took of his legs, - so he laid down his arms!
Now, as they bore him off the field, said he, "Let others shoot,
For here I leave my second leg, and the Forty-second Foot!"

The army surgeons made him limbs: said he, "They 're only pegs :
But there's as wooden members quite as represent my legs!"
Now, Ben he loved a pretty maid; her name was Nelly Gray;
So he went to pay her his devoirs, when he 'd devoured his pay!

But when he called on Nelly Gray, she made him quite a scoff,
And when she saw his wooden legs, began to take them off!
"O, Nelly Gray! O, Nelly Gray! is this your love so warm?
The love that loves a scarlet coat should be more uniform !"

Said she, "I loved a soldier once, for he was blithe and brave;
-But I shall never have a man with both legs in the grave!
Before you had these timber toes, your love I did allow,
But then, you know, you stand upon another footing now!"

"O, false and fickle Nelly Gray! I know why you refuse :
Though I've no feet, some other man is standing in my shoes!
I wish I ne'er had seen your face; but, now, a long farewell!
For you will be my death; alas! you will not be my Nell!"

-

Now, when he went from Nelly Gray, his heart so heavy got,
And life was such a burden grown, it made him take a knot!
So round his melancholy neck a rope he did entwine,
And, for his second time in life, enlisted in the Line!

HOOD.

VI. THE POETASTER'S FIRST TRAGEDY.

[The speaker enters with a roll of manuscript in his hand, from which he reads the fourth stanza.]

"O, PROUD am I, exceeding proud, I've mustered the élite!*
I'll read them my new tragedy—no ordinary treat;
It has a deeply-stirring plot ;- - the moment I commence,
They'll feel for my sweet heroine an interest intense ;
It never lags, it never flags, it can not fail to touch!
Indeed, I fear the sensitive may feel it over much :
But still a dash of pathos with my terrors I combine,
The bright reward of tragic bard · - the laurel will be mine

"Place chairs for all the company; and, ma'am, I really think,
If you don't send that child to bed, he will not sleep a wink;
I know he'll screech like any thing before I've read a page:
My second act would terrify a creature of that age:
And should the darling, scared by me, become an imbecile,
Though flattered at the circumstance - how sorry I should feel!
What! won't you send the child to bed? Well, madam, we shall see—
Pray take a chair, and now prepare the laurel crown for me!

"Have all got pocket-handkerchiefs? Your tears will fall in streams
Place water near to sprinkle over any one who screams.
And pray, good people, recollect, when what I've said controls
Your sympathies, and actually harrows up your souls,
Remember (it may save you all from suicide or fits)
'Tis but a mortal man who opes the flood-gates of his, wits!
Retain your intellects to trace my brightest gem (my moral),
And, when I've done, I'm very sure you'll wreathe my brow with laurel.

<

"Hem-Act the first, and Scene the first—a wood - Bumprumpti enters,
Bumprumpti speaks: And have I, then, escaped from my tormentors?
Revenge! revenge! O, were they dead, and I a carrion crow,
I'd pick the flesh from off their bones, I'd sever toe from toe!
Shall fair Fryfitta, pledged to me, her plighted vow recall,
And wed with hated Snookums, or with any man at all?

No! rather perish earth and sea, the sky, and all the rest of it -
For wife to me she swore she'd be, and she must make the best of it.'"

(Here the bard gesticulates a moment in dumb show, as if reading — then puts up the manuscript.)

*Pronounced a-leet'.

SORROWS OF WERTER.

Through five long acts-0, very long!the happy bard proceeds;
Without a pause, without applause, scene after scene he reads!
That silent homage glads his heart! it silent well may be:
Not one of all his slumbering friends can either hear or see!
The anxious matron is asleep! the Beau beside the Fair!
The dog is sleeping on the rug! the cat upon the chair!
Old men and babes the footman, too!-0, if we crown the bard;
We'll twine for him the poppy-wreath-

his only fit reward!
T. H. BAYLY.

VII.THE EXCELLENT MAN.

1

+4

THEY gave me advice and counsel in store,
Praised me and honored me, more and more;
Said that I only should "wait a while,"
Offered their patronage, too, with a smile.
But, with all their honor and approbation,'
I should, long ago, have died of starvation,
Had there not come an excellent man,
Who bravely to help me along began.

288

Good fellow! he got me the food I ate;
His kindness and care I shall never forget;
Yet I can not embrace him, - though other folks can,·
For I myself am this excellent man!

――――

H. HEINE.

VIII.—SORROWS OF WERTER.
WERTER had a love for Charlotte,

Such as words could never utter;
Would you know how first he met her?
She was cutting bread and butter.
Charlotte was a married lady,

And a moral man was Werter,
And, for all the wealth of Indies,

Would do nothing for to hurt her.
So he sighed, and pined, and ōgled,

And his passion boiled and bubbled,
Till he blew his silly brains out,

And no more was by it troubled.
Charlotte, having seen his body

Borne before her on a shutter,
Like a well-conducted person,

Went on cutting bread and butter.

THACKERAY.

7 IX.

-THE POET AND THE CHEMIST.

THERE was a chemist once, who had a mighty faith in the elixir vita; and, though unflattered by the dimmest glimpse of success, he still kept groping and grubbing in his dark vocation, stupidly hoping to find the art of changing metals, and guineas coin from pans and kettles, by mystery of transmutation.

A starving poet took occasion to seek this conjuror's abode, -not with encomiastic ode, or laudatory dedication, but with an offer to impart, for twenty pounds, the secret art, which should procure, without the pain of metals, chemistry, and fire, what he so long had sought in vain, and gratify his heart's desire.

The money paid, our bard was hurried to the philosopher's sanctorum; who, somewhat sublimized, and flurried out of his chemical decorum, crowed, capered, giggled, seemed to spurn his crucibles, retort, and furnace, and cried, as he secured the door, and carefully put to the shutter, "Now, now, the secret I implore! Out with it-speak- discover-utter!"

With grave and solemn look, the poet cried: "List — O, list! for thus I show it: let this plain truth those ingrates strike, who still, though blessed, new blessings crave: That we may all have what we like, simply by liking what we have.”

X.-LODGINGS FOR SINGLE GENTLEMEN.

WHO has e'er been in London, that overgrown place,
Has seen "lodgings to let" stare him full in the face.
Some are good, and let dearly; while some, 't is well known
Are so dear, and so bad, they are best let alone.

Will Waddle, whose temper was studious and lonely,
Hired lodgings that took single gentlemen only;
But Will was so fat, he appeared like a tun,
Or like two single gentlemen rolled into one.

He entered his rooms, and to bed he retreated;
But, all the night long, he felt fevered and heated;
And, though heavy to weigh as a score of fat sheep,
He was not, by any means, heavy to sleep.

Next night 't was the same!
He perspired like an ox; he was nervous and vexed;
Week after week, till, by weekly succession,

"

His weakly condition was past all expression.

- and the next! and the next!

ORATOR PUFF,

In six months his acquaintance began much to doubt him;
For his skin "like a lady's loose gown" hung about him.
He sent for a doctor, and cried, like a ninny,
"I've lost many pounds- make me well

there's a guinea."

The doctor looked wise: "A slow fever," he said;
Prescribed sudorifics, and going to bed.
"Sudorifics in bed," exclaimed Will, "are humbugs!
I've enough of them there, without paying for drugs!"

Will kicked out the doctor: but, when ill indeed,
E'en dismissing the doctor don't always succeed;
So, calling his host, he said, "Sir, do you know
I'm the fat single gentleman, six months ago?

"Look ye, landlord, I think," argued Will, with a grin,
"That with honest intentions you first took me in;
But from the first night and to say it I'm bold
I've been so very hot, that I am sure I caught cold!"

Quoth the landlord, "Till now I ne'er had a dispute-
I've let lodgings ten years, I'm a baker to boot;
In airing your sheets, sir, my wife is no sloven;
And your bed is immediately. over my oven."

XI. ORATOR PUFF.

"The oven!" says Will.-Says the host, "Why this passion? In that excellent bed died three people of fashion. Why so crusty, good sir?" "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 your bread."

COLMAN.

285

MR. ORATOR PUFF had two tones in his voice,

The one squeaking thus, and the other down so; In each sentence he uttered he gave you your choice, For one half was B alt, and the rest G below.

O! O! Orator Puff,

One voice for an orator 's surely enough.