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with the greatest familiarity, reposes himself on a couch, and fancies himself at home. The master ~ of the house at last comes in, Menalcas rises to receive him, and desires him to sit down ; he talks, muses, and then talks again. The gentleman of the house is tired and amazed ; Menalcas is no less so, but is every moment in hopes that his impertinent guest will at last end his tedious visit. Night comes on, when Menalcas is hardly undeceived. When he is playing at backgammon, he calls for a full glass of wine and water; it is his turn to throw ; he has the box in one hand, and his glass in the other, and being extremely dry, and unwilling to lose time, he swallows down both the dice, and at the same time throws his wine into the tables. He writes a letter and flings the sand into the ink-bottle; he writes a second, and mistakes the superscription ; a nobleman receives one of them, and upon opening it reads as follows: “I would have you, honest Jack, immediately upon the receipt of this, take in hay enough to serve me the winter.” His farmer receives the other, and is amazed to see in it, “My Lord, I received your Grace's commands with an entire submission to—” If he is at an entertainment, you may see the pieces of bread continually multiplying round his plate ; it is true the rest of the company want it, as well as their knives and forks, which Menalcas does not let them keep long. Sometimes in a morning he puts his whole family in a hurry, and at last goes out without being able to stay for his coach or dinner,

and for that day you may see him in every part of

the town, except the very place where he had appointed to be upon a business of importance. You would often take him for every thing that he is not ; for a fellow quite stupid, for he hears nothing ; for a fool, for he talks to himself, and has a hundred grimaces and motions with his head, which are altogether involuntary ; for a proud man, for he looks full upon you, and takes no notice of your saluting him ; the truth of it is, his eyes are open, but he makes no use of them,

and neither sees you, nor any man, nor any that else; he came once from his country-house, wo his own footmen undertook to rob him, and suoceeded ; they held a flambeau to his throat, and bad him deliver his purse; he did so, and coutus home told his friends he had been robbed; thro desired to know the particulars, “Ask my of vants,” said Menalcas, “for they were with me. BRUYERE.

the SUITOR.

Lucas, with ragged coat, attends
My lord's levee; and, as he bends,
The gaping wounds expose to view
All else beneath as ragged too.
But hark the peer: “My friends, to-day
By great affairs I'm call'd away;
Attend to-morrow at this hour,
Your suits shall claim lay utmost pow'r,"
The crowd, retiring, thanks exprest,
Save Lucas, who, behind the rest,
Desponding loiter'd, cries my lord,
“Why, Lucas, do you doubt my word *"
No, sir, 'tis too well understood–
To-morrow !”—Here his garb he view'd.
Alas! my lord 1 can I be mute 2
To-morrow 1 shall have no suit.”

A HARD MASTERs

A theatrical manager, one evening when band was playing an overture, went up vo horn players, and asked why they were not pi ing. They said they had twenty bars “ Rest 1” says he, “I’ll have no rest in wov t pany : I pay you for playing not for resting.”

APPROPRIATE PRESENTs.

On the City of London presenting Adm Keppel with the freedoun in a box of heart of and Lord Rodney in a gold box: -

Each admiral's defective part,
Satiric cits, you've told:

The wealthy Keppel wanted heart s
The gallant Rodney, gold.

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fore them. Lady Dainty is convinced, that it is necessary for a gentlewoman to be out of order ; and to preserve that character, she dines every day in her closet at twelve, that she may become her table at two, and be unable to eat in public. About five years ago, I remember it was the fashion to be short-sighted. A man would not own an acquaintance until he had first examined him with his glass. At a lady’s entrance into the playhouse, you might see tubes immediately levelled at her from every quarter of the pit and side-boxes. However, that mode of infirmity is out, and the age has recovered its sight; but the blind seem to be succeeded by the lame, and a janty limp is the present beauty. I think I have formerly observed, a cane is part of the dress of a prig, and always worn upon a button, for fear he should be thought to have an occasion for it, or be esteemed really, and not genteelly a cripple. U have considered but could never find out the bottom of this vanity. I indeed have heard of a Gascon general, who, by the lucky grazing of a bullet on the roll of his stocking, took occasion to halt all his life after. But as for our peaceable cripples, I know no foundation for their behaviour, without it may be supposed that in this warlike age, some think a came the next honour to a wooden leg. This sort of affectation I have known run from one limb or member to another. Before the Limpers came in, I remember a race of Lispers, fine persons, who took an aversion to particular letters in our language; some never uttered the letter H; and others had as mortal an aversion to S. Others have had their fashionable defect in their ears, and would make you repeat all you said twice over, I know an ancient friend of mine, whose table is every day surrounded with flatterers, that makes use of this, sometimes as a piece of grandeur, and at others as an art, to make them repeat their commendations. Such affectations have been indeed in the world in ancient times; but they fell into them out of politic ends. Alexander the Great had a wry neck, which made it the fashion in his court to carry their heads on one side when they carne into the presence. One who titought to outshine the whole court, carried his head so over-conpiaisantly, that this martial prince gave him so great a box on the car, as set all the heads of the Jourt upright. This humour takes place in our minds as well as bodies. I know at this time a young gentleman, who talks atheistically all day in coffeehouses, and in his degrees of understanding sets up for a freethinker; though it can be proved upon him, he says his prayers every morning and evening. Of the like turn are all your marriage-haters, who rail at the noose, at the words, “ for ever nnd ave,” and at the same title are scoretly pining for some young thing or other that makes , their hearts ache by her refusal. The next to these, nre such as pretend to govern their wives, and boast how ill they use them; when, at the same time, go to their houses, and you shall see them step as if they feared making a noise, and are as fond as an alderinan. I do not know, but sometimes these pretences may arise from a desire to conceal a contrary defect than they set up for. I remember, when I was a young fellow, we had a companion of a very fearful complexion, who, when we sat in to drink, would desire us to take his sword frum him when he grew fuddled, for it was his unisfortune to he quarrelsome. As the desire of fame in men of true wit and gallantry shews itself in proper instances, the same desire in men who have the ambition without proper facultics, runs wild, and discovers itself in a thousand extravagances, by which they would signalize themselves from others, and gain a 1et of admirers When I was a middle-aged man, there were many societies of ambitious young men in England, who, in their pursuits after fame, were every night employed in roasting porters, smoking cobblers. knocking down watchmen, overturning constables, breaking windows, blackening sign-po-ts, and the like immortal ente; prizcs.

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A1)wich. To LOV ons.

Pool Hal caught his death, standing under a spout,
Expecting till midnight when Nan would coue out;
But fatal his patience, as crucl the dame,
And curs'd was the weather that queuch'd the

man’s flame. Whoe'er thou art that read'st these moral rhymes, Make love at home, and go to bed betimes.

Cop Y OF A Letter OF APPLICATION FROM shoe M Aker's wife, To A custom Ert of Her deceased to Usha Nid. Madam,_My husband is dead, but that is nothing at all; for Thomas Wild, our journeyman, will keep doing for me the same as he did before, and he can work a great deal better than he did, poor man, at the last, as I have experience et, because of his age and ailment; so I hope to your ladyship's custom. From yuur humble ser vant, ANN R—s.”

THE BISHOP AND THE PEASANT.

A German clown, at work in his field, scene his bishop pass by, attended by a train becomea peer, he could not sorbear laughing, and that . loud, that the reverend gentleman askcd the rson of it. The clown answered ; –“ i laugh wo. I think of St. Peter and St. Paul, and see you such an equipage.”—“How is that * said the shop.–" Do you ask how 7" said the felt. “They were ill-advised to walk alone on r, throughout the world, when they were the b-, of the Christian church, and lieutenants of 3 Christ, the king of king: ; and thou, who ar. ..., our bishop, go so well mounted, as to have see train of Hectors, that thou reser blest roore a , , of the realm, than a pastor of the church." l this his reverence replied, “But, my frient, dost not consider that, I am, both a count ol. baron, as well as thy bishop.” The rustic A. T. more than before ; and the bishop askins: h, reason of it, he answered, “Sir, when it. . aud the baron, which you say you are, ston t hell, where will the bishop be?”

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“Such pig for me; why, man alive,
Ne'er from this moment hope to thrive ;
Think you for this I preach and pray
Hence bring me better tythes, I say.”
Hodge heard, and, tho’ by nature warm,
Replied, “ kind sir, I meant no harm;
Since what I profer you refuse,
The stye is open, pick and chuse.”
Pleas'd with the offer, in he goes—
His heart with exultation glows;
He rolls his eye, his lips he licks,
And scarce can tell on which to fix;
At length he cries, “Heaven save the king !
This rogue in black is just the thing !
Hence shall I gain a rich regale !”
Nor more, but seiz'd it by the tail.
Loud squeak"d the pig; the sow was near—
The piercing sound assail'd her ear;
Eager to save her darling young,
Fierce on the bending priest she sprung;
Full in the mire his reverence cast,
Then seiz'd his breech and held him fast
The parson roar'd, surpris’d to find
A foe so desperate close behind;
On Hodge, on Madge, he calls for aid,
Hut both were deaf to all he said.
The scene a numerous circle draws,
Who hail the sow with loud applause:
Pleas'd they beheld his rev'rence writhe,
And swore 'twas fairly tythe for tythe.
“Tythe 1” cried the parson, “Tythe, d'ye say.
See here—one half is rent away 1”
The case, ’tis true, was most forlorn ;
His gown, his wig, his breech was torn;
And, what the mildest priest might ruffle,
The pig was lost amidst the scuffle.
“Give, give me which you please,” he cried ;
“Nay, pick and choose,” still Hodge replied.
“Choose ! honest friend ; alas ! but how
Heaven shield me from your murdering sow.
When tythes invite, in spite of foes,
I dare take Satan by the nose
Like Theseus, o'er the Styx I'd venture;
But who that dreadful stye would enter

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Yet, whilst there's hope the prize to win,
By Heav'n to leave it were a sin.”
This said, he arms his breast with rage,
And half resolves the foet' engage.
Spite of the parson's angry mood,
The fearless sow collected stood;
And seem'd to wait the proffer'd war, -
With “touch them scoundrel, if you dare " "
His last resource the parson tries;
Hems, strokes his chin, and gravely cries—
“Yeswains, support your injur'd priest
Secure the pig, and share the feast.”
Staunch to his friend was every swain ;
Strange tho' it seem, the bribe was vain ;
And Hodge, who saw them each refuse,
Exclaim'd in triumph, “Pick and choose ""
The parson's heart grew warm with ire ;
Yet pride forbade him to retire.
What numbers can his spleen declare,
Denied, for once, his darling fare :
How shall he meet the dreadful frown
Of madam in the grogram gown;
Who, eager for her promis’d treat,
Already turns the useless spit?
“Wretch 1” he exclaims, with voice profound,
Can no remorse thy conscience wound
May all the woes th’ ungodly dread,
Fall thick on thy devoted head :
May'st thou in every wish be cross'd :
May all thy hoarded wealth be lost
May'st thou on weeds and offals dine,
Nor ale, nor pudding, e'er be thine!”.
Hodge, who with laughter held his sides,
The parson's wrath in sport derides :
** No time in idle o: lose ;
The stye is open—pick and choose;”
Loud plaudits rose from every tongue;
Heaven's concave with the clamours rung
Impatient of the last huzza,
The tytheless parson sneak'd away.

court And city fools.

The last of the licenced fools belonging to the cxurt was Killigrew, jestcr to Charles the Sceond.

The lord-mayor of London had his fool too! hence the expression “the lord-mayor's fool, who likes every thing that is good.’ At the beginning of the last century, one of these city drolls ‘jumped into a custard, for the entertainment of the citizens !

A wife's sor Row.

At the marriage of Louis the Sixteenth with Antoinette, in 1770, a dreadful accident occurred, by which a thousand people lost their lives, Among them was one Legros, a lady's hairdresser, of much fame. The wife of Legros went to the field of the slain about three o'clock in the morning, when some one began telling her the fate of her husband in as tender a manner as potsible. “'Tis very well,” said she, “but I must feel in his pockets for the keys of the house, or else I cannot get in ;” and, so saying, this disconsolate widow went quietly home to her bed.

CLERiCAL LeARNING.

In 1443, Dr. Thomas Gascoigne was chancelle of Oxford. He seems to have deeply felt to profligacy with which ecclesiastical affairs wro then conducted; for he thus expresses himself‘‘ I knew a certain illiterate ideot, the son of mad knight; who, for being the companioc. rather the fool, of the sons of a great family the blood-royal, was made arch-deacon of Oxt before he was eighteen years old, and got so after two rich rectories and twelve prebend. asked him, one day, what he thought of learn * I despise it;” said he. “I have better 11than you great doctors, and believe as touc any of you."—-‘What do you believe?” said * I believe,” said he, “that there are three & in one person. I believe all that God believe

REASON WHY woxie N HAVE No e EAT.I.

Nature, regardful of the babbling race. Planted no beard upon a woman's face i Not Packwood's razors; though the very Could shave a chin that never is at rest."

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