While prudent Sarah, sure to please,
Like a clean maiden, scrap'd the cheese.
This done, young Pimlico replied,
"Sally I now declare my bride:
With Nan I can't my welfare put,
For she has prov'd a dirty slut:
And Betsy, who has par'd the rind,
Would give my fortune to the wind.
Sally the happy medium chose,
And I with Sally will repose;
She's prudent, cleanly and the man
Who fixes on a nuptial plan,
Can never err, if he will choose

A wife by cheese-before he ties the noose."

TITLED PRAYERS.

In a country parish, the wife of the lord of the manor came to church, after her lying-in, to return thanks. The parson, aiming to be complaisant, and thinking plain woman" too familiar, instead of saying, "O Lord, save this woman!" said, "O Lord, save this lady!" The clerk, resolving not to be behind-hand with him in politeness, answered, "Who putteth her ladyship's trust in thee."

GRAMMATICAL ANCESTORS.

Mr. Pitt was once disputing for the energy and beauty of the Latin language. In support of the superiority which he affirmed it to have over the English, he asserted, that two negatives made a thing more positive than one affirmative possibly could. "Then," said Thurlow, "your father and mother must have been two complete negatives to make such a positive fellow as you are."

THE DISAPPOINTED CRITIC.

An orator having written a speech, which he intended to deliver at a public meeting, gave it to a friend to read, and desired his opinion of it. The friend, after some time, told the author he had read it over three times: the first time it appeared very good, the second indifferent, and the third quite insipid. "That will do," said the orator, very coolly," for I have only to repeat it once."

A LADY'S VALUABLES.

When the Duchess of Kingston wished to be received at the court of Berlin, she got the Russian minister there to mention her intentions to his Prussian majesty; and to tell him, at the same time, that her fortune was at Rome, her bank at Venice, but that her heart was at Berlin. Imme diately on hearing this, the king sarcastically replied, "I beg, sir, you will give my compli ments to her grace, aud inform her that I am very sorry we are only entrusted with the very wors part of her property."

EPITAPH ON A TRAVELLER,

The evil that men do lives after them.
The good is oft interred with their bones.
SHAKSPEARE

Here resteth the body of

late of Manchester,

who died on a journey through Scotland,
May 3, 1798, aged 30.

This stone was placed here
by an Acquaintance,

who, after examining the Debits and Credits
of his cash account,

found a small balance in his favour. His sickness was short, and being a stranger, he was not troubled in his last moments with the sight of weeping friends, but died at an hospitable inn, with the consent of all around him. He left no mourner here, Save a favourite mare, which,

(if the account of an ostler may be credited neither ate nor drank during his indispositio READER!

little will be said to perpetuate his memory the fact is he died poor; the whole he left behind would not buy pap sufficient to paint half his virtues. His chief mourner was sold by public roup To pay the expenses of an

over-grown landlord and half-starved apothec

The affability of his manners, and the susceptibility of his heart,

gave appearances the lie;

His attachment to the fair sex was notorious
to whom he was so tenderly attentive,
that the story of a rude embrace
would have caused the tear of Sensibility'
to trickle from his eye.*

He was ever happy when doing good;
and his liberality bountifully extended
to the unfortunate part of the sex,

whom he always relieved to the utmost of his power; he was, justly speaking, a friend to all

an enemy to none but himself.

BROTHER TRAV ELLER

125

| Five days are not yet passed, since he drank with glee the well-known bumper toast; he little thought it was

his farewell tribute to every earthly pleasure! But his last journey being over, there is now no riding double stages to make up lost time; Nor boxing Harry

to make up his cash account! who knows but Harry may now be boxing him? The final balance

of the good and evil actions of his life is now struck! and here he rests in hope,

that it may be found to his credit
on the judgment day,

in the grand ledger of everlasting happiness.

PRIESTCRAFT outwitted.

An Italian noble being at church one day, and finding a priest who begged for the souls in purgatory, gave him a piece of gold. "Ah! my lord," said the good father, "you have now delivered a soul." The count threw upon the plate another piece ; "Here is another soul delivered," said the priest. "Are you positive of it?" replied the count. "Yes, my lord," replied the priest, "I am certain they are now in heaven."-" Then," said the count, I'll take back my money, for it signifies nothing to you now, seeing the souls are already got to heaven, there can be no danger of their returning to purgatory."

POETICAL LICENCE.

When Charles, at once a monarch and a wit,
Some smooth, soft flattery read, by Waller writ ;
Waller, who erst to sing was not asham'd,
That heav'n in storms great Cromwell's soul had
claim'd,

Turn'd to the bard, and, with a smile, said he,
"Your strains for Noll excel your strains for me."

this life!

He had only one,

Thus to the king return'd, and bow'd his head;

THE SNORING MEMBER. During a debate in the House of Commons, about four in the morning, a member was called to order for snoring, while a very eminent orator was addressing the house. When a division took place, the speaker, as usual, put the question." Those who are for the amendment say aye, and those who are of the contrary opinion say no." A gentleman who was near the snoring member, exclaimed from the gallery," the nose had it."

LOVE FOR OUR ENEMIES.

A physician seeing Charles Bannister about to drink a glass of brandy, said, “ Don't drink that filthy stuff; brandy is the worst enemy you have?"

"I know that," replied Charles, "but you know we are commanded by Scripture to love our enemies."

A SUCCESSOR TO CERBERUS.

Carolan, the Irish bard, being refused entrance to a nobleman's house by the porter, whose name was O'Flinn, wrote with chalk on the door"What pity hell's gates are not kept by O'Flinn, Such a surly old dog would let nobody in."

MACK COULL, THE PICKPOCKET.

While Sir W. Parsons was one day sitting at Bow-street, he received the foilowing curious epistle from a notorious pick pocket

Gentlemen, I beg leave to inform you that I am (with my wife) going to the theatre, Covent garden. I take this step, in order to prevent any ill-founded malicious constructions. Trusting I am within the pale of safety, and that my conduct will ever insure me the protection of the magistracy, I remain, Gentlemen, with all due respect and attention, your most obedient very humble servant, JOHN MACKCOULL.

Donaldson, the officer, therefore treated the apologist with proper attention, and Mackcoull retired with his wife, without attempting to milla wipe, queer a stilt, or draw a tatler.

THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPI SHEWING HOW HE WENT FARTHER THAN HE INTENDED, AND CAME HOME SAFE AGAIN.

John Gilpin was a citizen
Of credit and renown,

A train-band captain eke was he
Of famous London town.

John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear,
Though wedded we have been
These twice ten tedious years, yet we
No holiday have seen

To-morrow is our wedding-day,

And we will then repair
Unto the Bell at Edmonton,
All in a chaise and pair.
My sister and my sister's child,
Myself and children three,
Will fill the chaise, so you must ride
On horseback after we.

He soon replied, I do admire

Of womankind but one;
And you are she, my dearest dear,
Therefore it shall be done.

I am a linen-draper bold,

As all the world doth know,
And my good friend the callender,
Will lend his horse to go.
Quoth Mrs. Gilpin, that's well said;
And, for that wine is dear,
We will be furnish'd with our own,
Which is both bright and clear,
John Gilpin kiss'd his loving wife,
O'erjoy'd was he to find

That though on pleasure she was bent,
She had a frugal mind.

The morning came, the chaise was brought,
But yet was not allow'd
To drive up to the door, lest all
Should say that she was proud.

So three doors off the chaise was staid,
Where they did all get in,
Six precious souls, and all agog
To dash through thick and thin.

Smack went the whip, round went the wheels,
Were never folks so glad;
The stones did rattle underneath
As if Cheapside were mad.
John Gilpin at his horse's side
Seiz'd fast the flowing mane
And up he got in haste to ride,
But soon came down again

For saddle-tree scarce reach'd had he,
His journey to begin,

When turning round his head, he saw
Three customers come in.

So down he came, for loss of time,
Although it griev'd him sore,
Yet loss of pence, full well he knew,
Would trouble him much more.
'Twas long before the customers

Were suited to their mind;
When Betty, screaming, came down stairs,
"The wine is left behind !"

"Good lack!" quoth he-" yet bring it me, My leathern belt likewise,

In which I bear my trusty sword
When I do exercise."

Now Mistress Gilpin, careful soul!
Had two stone-bottles found,
To hold the liquor that she lov'd,
And keep it safe and sound.
Each bottle had a curling ear,
Through which the belt he drew,
And hung a bottle on each side,
To keep his balance true.
Then over all, that he might be
Equipp'd from top to toe,

His long red cloak, well brush'd and neat,
He manfully did throw.

Now see him mounted once again

Upon his nimble steed
Full slowly pacing o'er the stones
With caution and good heed.

But finding soon a smoother road,
Beneath his well-shod feet,
The snorting beast began to snort,
Which gall'd him in his seat.
"So-fair and softly!" John he cried,
But John he cried in vain;
That trot became a gallop soon,
In spite of curb or rein.

So stooping down, as needs he must
Who cannot sit upright,

He grasp'd the mane with both his hands,
And eke with all his might.

His horse, who never in that sort
Had handled been before,
What thing upon his back had got
Did wonder more and more.
Away went Gilpin neck or nought,
Away went hat and wig;

He little dream'd when he set out
Of running such a rig.

The wind did blow, the cloak did fly,
Like streamer long and gay,

'Till loop and button failing both,
At last it flew away.

Then might all people well discern
The bottles he had slung;

A bottle swinging at each side,"
As hath been said or sung.

The dogs did bark, the children scream'd!
Up flew the windows all;

And every soul cried out, Well done!
As loud as he could bawl.
Away went Gilpin-who but he?

His fame soon spread around— He carries weight! he rides a race! 'Tis for a thousand pound.

.

And still as fast as he drew near,
'Twas wonderful to view,
How in a trice the turnpike-men-
Their gates wide open threw.
And now as he went bowing down
His reeking head full low,
The bottles twain behind his back,
Were shatter'd at a blow.

Down ran the wine into the road,
Most piteous to be seen,

Which made his horse's flanks to smoke
As they had basted been.

But still he seem'd to carry weight,

With leather girdle brac'd

For all might see the bottle necks
Still dangling at his waist.
Thus all through merry Islington
These gambols he did play,
And till he came unto the Wash
Of Edmonton so gay.

And there he threw the wash about
On both sides of the way,

Just like unto a trundling mop,
Or a wild goose at play.

At Edmonton his loving wife
From balcony espied

Her tender husband, wond'ring much
To see how he did ride.

Stop, stop, John Gilpin ! here's the house,"

They all at once did cry;

"The dinner waits, and we are tir'd;"

Said Gilpin " So am I."

But yet his horse was not a whit

Inclin'd to tarry there;

For why-his owner had a house
Full ten miles off, at Ware.

So like an arrow swift he flew,

Shot by an archer strong;

So did he fly-which brings me to
The middle of my song.

His neighbour in such trim,
Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate,
And thus accosted him-
"What news? what news? your tidings
Tell me, you must and shall-

Say why bare-headed you are come,
Or why you're come at all?"
Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit,
And lov'd a timely joke;
And thus unto the callender,

In merry guise he spoke

"I came because your horse would com And if I well forbode,

My hat and wig will soon be here;
They are upon the road.

The calender, right glad to find
His friend in merry pin,
Return'd him not a single word,
But to the house went in;

When straight he came with hat and wiş
A wig that flow'd behind,

A hat not much the worse for wear,
Each comely in its kind.

He held them up, and in his tura
Thus show'd his ready wit;
"My head is twice as big as yours,
They therefore needs must fit.
"But let me scrape the dirt away
That hangs upon your face;

And stop and eat, for well you may
Be in a hungry case,"

Said John, "It is my wedding-day;
And all the world would stare,

If wife should dine at Edmonton,
And I should dine at Ware."