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the humourous RefusAl ; or, sundry

NOVEL objections AGA inst Going to sea,

Of a vein most facetious and quaint was Dick

Swill, - But the joys of the bottle his thoughts aye did fill ;

One day to his sire, who made a great fuss
In begging to sea he would go, Dick spoke thus:
** Dear father, no further insist on this matter—
Ods heart! the trite subject is worn to a tatter;
But yet, ere in toto we wisely dismiss it, -
Just hear me expound my refusal explicit:-
Your son well-advised from such dangers would
He’s a vast deal too deep, sir, to tempt the vast
Nor into the hazard of drowning e'er pous he,
Unless in epitome, drowning—by dropsy
The ocean, oh shun I would I say to my soul,
Or be thy main sport but a brimming punch-bowl.
Then, sir, living at sea would he scarcely to me
Who like to see life, though I like not a sea life.
Obeying, I quickly most wretched should be,
And besides being sea-sick, quite sick of the sea.
What vessels care I for, save vessels of wine *
What anchors, save anchors of brandy divine *
Say, how can I harbour a thought about Port,
Save that which creates the gay Bacchanal's
Besides, who could ever regard as a treat
That compound of leather and brine, their salt
"Twere not fair to expect with such fare life to
drag on ;
No-give me a flagon—I'll ne'er think a flag on.
Then, hang it ! that word of such ominous scope,
Rope's-end—which suggests the sad end by a

rope. But should some grand booty (like Colchis' rich

fleece) Reward my sea perils, thro' Fate's kind caprice,

Would there not then, you ask me, be argument some for’t 2 Ah no 3–I should be but fleec'd out of my com

fort. That man must possess, sir, a mind that nought minds, Who at the ship's stern can endure the stern winds;

Ah! think what a toil, in one's life's latter stage, To be ploughing the main 'midst the surrors of age . I prefer a deep glass to the glassy deep, far, And now pitch to oblivion all thoughts 'bout a far. Thus, as for the sea, my dear father now knows all The motives which urge me to wave the preposa' " A RANDY Joke. A company of itinerant actors once attemptio to gratify the inhabitants of a country town to their united efforts; one of our best tragedies or selected for the night's amusement. In the four act of the tragedy, the Duke, sitting in judgeneo ordered the culprit into court, in these words— “Bring the vile offender straight before es.” The messenger, who was a wag, stepped forwar and exclaimed in the superlative, * 11's imp. sible, your grace, to bring him straight to re. you, for he is one of the bandye-t legged feine, you ever saw in all your life;” which occasios such a universal roar, that a considerable on elapsed before the comical tragedy could be o ceeded with. ON A postilion. Here I lays, Killed by a chaise.


Bed is a bundle of paradoxes; we go te is reluctance, yet we quit it with regret s --make up our minds every night to leave. * but we make up our bodies every mornits is it late.


| lively holy monke, which was continually tempted Billy Taylor was a brisk young feller,

and iroubled with a deuill, euen tyll his olde days; Full of mirth, and full of glee,

and when, in the eude, hee began to waxe weery And his mind he did diskiver

of it, hee then did pray the deuil), very friendly, To a lady fair and free.

that hee woolde let him alone in quiet ; where

upon the deuill did answere him, that so farre Four and i wepty brisk young fellers,

as he woulde promise to doe, and sweare to keepe Drest they ras io rich array,

secrete a thing that 'hee woulde commande him, They kim and they seized Billy Taylor, then he woulde leaue off to trouble him any more. Pressed he vas, and seat to sea.

The monke did promyse him, and tooke thereupon His true-love she followed arter,

a deepe othe. Then sayde ihe deuill; “ If thou Under the name of Richard Car,

wilt that I shall trouble thee no more, then thou And her haods were all bedagbed

must not pray any more to that image ;” and it With the nasty pitch and tar.

was an image of our ladie, holding her childe in An engagemeot came on the very next morning ; deuill; for he went and confessed him of it, the

armes. But the monke was more craftie than the Bold she fit among the rest; The wind aside did blow her jacket,

next daye, to the abbot, and the abbot did disAnd diskivered her lily-white breast.

pence with him for his othe, upon condition that

hee should continue his praying to the image. When the captain kim for to know it,

ON A PARISH PARSON. lle says vat vind has blown you to me? Kind sir; I be kim for to seek my true-love, Come, let us rejoice, merry boys, at his fall, Vhom you pressed and sent to sea.

For, egad, had he lived, he'd have buried us all. If you be kim to seek your true-love

VIOLATION OF THE SABBATH, He from the sbiy is gone away, . And you'll find him in London streets, ma'am, In the time of Marlow, the celebrated patriot, Valking with his lady gay.

fanaticism ran so bigh, that an order was issued Sht sose up early in the morning,

by the Privy Council that no beer should be long before the break of day:

brewed on a Saturday. This very singular order And she found false Billy Taylor,

being the subject of conversation, King James the Valking vith bis lady gay.

Second asked Marlow, during the period he was Straight she called for swords and pistils,

composing his celebrated “ Jew of Malta," wbat Brought they vas at her command,

his opinion was of the subject, “ May it please She fell on shooting Billy Taylor,

your Majesty;" replied Marlow, “ Vith his lady in bis hand.

pend upon it, the reason why they will not suffer

any beer to be brewed upon a Saturday, is, for When the captain he kim for to know it, fear it should work on a Sunday. He very much applauded her for what she had done,

And he made her first lieutenant,
OL the valiant Thunder bomb.

The word explains itself, without the Muse,

And the four letters speak from whence comes TRT DEVIL OUTWITTED.

news, The Beehive of the Romish church, 1580, black from north, east, west, south, the solution's made, met, contains the following story There was al Each quarter gives accounts of war and trade.?

you may de


THE FRIARS OF DIJON-A Tale. A blacksmith of a village murdered a man, and

When honest men confess'd their sios,

And paid the church genteelywas condemned to be hang'd. The chief peasants

In Burgundy two Capuching of the place joined together, and begged the alcade that the blacksmith might not suffer, because he

Lived jovially and freely, was necessary to the place, which could not do They march'd about from place to place, without a blacksmith, to sboe horses, mend wheels,

With shrift and dispensation; &c. But the alcade said, " How, then, can I

And mended broken consciences, fulgil justice ?" A laboureranswered, " Sir, ihere Soul-linkers by vocation. are two weavers in the village, and for so small a One friar was Father Boniface, place, one is enough ; hang the other."

And he ne'er knew disquiet,

Save when condemn'd to saying grace BOTHERATION,

O'er lwortifying diet. Copy of an Order sent by a Farmer's Wife, to a

The other was lean Dominick, Tradesman in Town, for a Scarlet Cardinal.

Whose slender form and sallow, Sir,- If you please to send me a scarlet cardi. Would scarce have made a candlewick nal, let it be full yard long, and let it be full, it For Boniface's tallow. is for a large woman; they tell me I may have a Albeit, he tippled like a fish, large one and a handsome one for eleven shillings, Though not the same potation; I should not be willing to give inore than twelve ; And mortal man ne'er clear'd a dish but if you have any as long either duffel or cloth, With nimbler mastication. if it comes cheaper I should like to have it, for I

Those saints without the shirts arrived, am not to give more than twelve shillings ; I beg you, sir, to be so good as not to fail sending me

One evening late, to pigeon This cardipal on Wednesday without fail, let it be

A country pair for alms, chat lived full yard long, I beg, or else it will not do, fail

About a league from Dijonnot on Wednesday, and by so doing you will Whose supper pot was set to boil, oblige, Your humble servant,

M. W.

On faggots briskly crackling i P.S. I hope you will charge your lowest price, The friars entered, with a smile, and if you please not to send me a dusel one, but To Jacquez and to Jacqueline cloth, full yard long and full, and please to send

They bow'd, and bless'd the daune, and luce it to Mr. Field's the waterman, who comes to the

In prious terms besought ber, Beehive, at Queenhithe; pray don't send me a

To give two holy-minded mea duffel one, but cloth ; I have altered my mind, I

A meal of bread and water. should not like it duffel, but clotb; let it be full yard long, and let it be cloth, for I don't like

For water and a crust they crave, duffel; it must not be more than twelve shillings

Those mouths that even on Lent anys. at most, one of the cheapest you have and full

Scarce knew the taste of water, sare yard long; send two, both of a length, and both

When watering for dainties. large ones full yard long ; both of a price, they Quoth Jacquez, “That were sorry cheer be both for one woman, they must be exactly alike For men fatigued and dosty ; for goodness and price, fail then not on Wednes And if ye supp'd on crusts, I fear day, and full yard long.

You'd go to bed but crusty."

So forth he brought a flask of rich

The farmer on a hone prepares, Wine fit to feast Silents,

His knife, a long and keen one; And viands, at the sight of which

And talks of killing both the Freres, They laugh'd like iwo hyænas.

The fat one and the lean one, Alternately the host and spouse

To-morrow, by the break of day, Regaled each pardon.gauger,

He orders too, salt-petre, Who told their tales right :narvellous,

And pickling tubs; but, reader, stay, And lied as for a wager-

Our host was no man-eater. 'Bout churches like balloons convey'd

The priests knew not that country-folk With aeronautic martyrs ;

Gave pigs the name of friars ; And wells made warm, where holy maid

But startled, villess of the joke, Had ooly dipt her garters.

As if they'd trod on briars. And if their hearers gaped, I guess

Meanwhile, as they perspired with dread, With jaws three inch asunder,

The hair of either craven "Twas part out of weariness,

Had stood erect opon his head, Anil partly out of wonder.

But that their heads were shaven. Then striking up đacts, the Freres

What, pickle and smoke us limb by limb! Went on to sing in matches,

God curse him and his larders! From psalms to scotimental airs,

St. Peter will bedevil him,
From these to glees and catches.

If he salt-petres Friars.
Al last they would have danced outright, Yet, Dominick, to die !-the bare
Like a baboon aud tame bear,

Idea shakes one oddly ;-
If Jacquez had not drunk Good night,

Yes, Boniface, 'tis time we were And shewn them to their chamber.

Beginning to be godly. The room was liighi, the host's was nigh -

Would that for absolution's sake Had wife or he suspicion,

Of all our sins and cogging, That monks would make a rarce-show

We had a whip to give and take Of chinks in the partition:

A last kind mutual flogging. Or that two confessors would come

O Dominick, thy nether end Their holy ears not-reaching,

Should bleed for expiation, To conversations as hillun-drum

And thou shouldst have my dear fat friend, Almost as their own preaching?

A glorious flagellation. Shame on you Friars of orders gray,

But having ne'er a switch, poor souls, That peeping knelt, add wriggling,

They bow'd like weeping willows, And when ye should have gone to pray,

And told the Saints long rigmaroles' Belook yourselves to giggling!

Of all their peccadillos. Hat every deed will have its meed:

Yet midst this penitential plight And bark! what information

A thought their fancies tickled, has made the sinners, in a trice,

"Twere better brave the window's height Look black with consternation.

Than be at morning pickled.

And so they girt themselves to leap,

Soon at the magistrate's command, Both under breath imploring

A troop from the gens-d'armes house A regiment of Saints to keep

Of twenty men rode sword in hand, Their host and hostess snoring.

To storm the bloody farm's house, The lean one lighted like a cat,

As they were cantering toward the place, Then scamper'd off like Jehu,

Comes Jacquez to the swineyard, Nor stopp'd to help the man of fat,

But started when a great rouud face Whose cheek was of a clay bue

Crierl, Rascal, hold thy whinyard. Who being by nature more design’d

'Twas Boniface, as mad's King Lear, For resting than for jumping,

Playing antics in the piggery: Fell heavy on his parts behind,

“ And what the devil brought you here, That broadend with the plumping.

You mountain of a friar, eb?" There long beneath the window's sconce

Ah, once how jolly, now how wan, His bruises he sat pawing,

Aud blubber'd with the vapours, Squat as the figure of a bonze

That frantic Capuchia began Upon a Chinese drawing.

To cut fantastic capersAt length he waddled to a sty ;

Crying help, hollo, the bellows blow, The pige, you'd thought for game sake,

The pot is on to stew ine; Came round and nosed him lovingly,

I am a pretty pig, but no! As if they'd known their namesake.

They shall not barbacue me. Meanwhile the other flew to town,

Nor was this raving fit a sham; And with short respiration

In truth, he was hysterical, Bray'd like a donkey up and down

Until they brought hin out a dram, Ass-ass-ass-assination !

And that wrought like a miracle. Men left their beds, and night-capp'd heads

Just as the horseman lialted near, Popp'd out from every casement;

Crying, Murderer, stop, ohoy, oh! The cats ran frighten'd on the leads ;

Jacquez was comforting the frere Dijon was all amazement,

With a good glass of poyeauDoors bang’d, dogs bay'd, and boys hurra'd, Who beckonid to them not to kick up Throats gaped aghast in bare rows,

A row; but waxing mellow, Till soundest-sleeping watchmen woke,

Squeez’d Jacquez' band, and with a hiccup, And even at last the mayor rose

Said you're a dame'd good fellow. Who, chorging him before police,

Explaining lost but little breath: Demands of Dominick surly,

Here ended all the matter; What earthquake, fire, or breach of peace So God save Queen Elizabeth, Made all this burly-burly !

And long live Henry Quatre! Ass—quoth the priest-ass-assins, sir,

The gens-d'armes at the story broke Are (hence a league, or nigher)

Into horse fits of laughter, About to salt, scrape, massacre

And, as if they had kuowo the joke, And barrel up a friar.

Their horses neigh'd thercaster,

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