THE HUMOUROUS REFUSAL; OR, SUNDRY
NOVEL OBJECTIONS AGAINST GOING
TO SEA.

Of a vein most facetious and quaint was Dick
Swill,

But the joys of the bottle his thoughts aye did fiH;

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
keep-

He's a vast deal too deep, sir, to tempt the vast deep;

Nor into the hazard of drowning e'er pops he,
Unless in epitome, drowning-by dropsy

The ocean, oh shun! would I say to my soul,
Or be thy main sport but a brimming punch-bowl,
Then, sir, living at sea would be scarcely to me
life,

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
sport?

Besides, who could ever regard as a treat
That compound of leather and brine, their salt

meat?

"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, bang it! that word of such ominous scope, Rope's-end-which suggests the sad end by a горе.

But should some grand booty (like Colchis' rich fleece)

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

The motives which urge me to wave the proposa A BANDY JOKE.

A company of itinerant actors once attempti to gratify the inhabitants of a country town b their united efforts; one of our best tragedies selected for the night's amusement. In the four act of the tragedy, the Duke, sitting in judgme ordered the culprit into court, in these words

"Bring the vile offender straight before as." The messenger, who was a wag, stepped forwa and exclaimed in the superlative, “ It's imp sible, your grace, to bring him straight bet you, for he is one of the bandyest legged fello you ever saw in all your life;" which occasio such a universal roar, that a considerable r elapsed before the comical tragedy could be ceeded with.

ON A POSTILION.

Here I lays,
Killed by a chaise.

BED.

Bed is a bundle of paradoxes; we go to it reluctance, yet we quit it with regret ; and make up our minds every night to leave it e but we make up our bodies every morning to it late.

REASONS FOR HANGING A WEAVER

and

A blacksmith of a village murdered a man, was condemned to be hang'd. The chief peasants of the place joined together, and begged the alcade that the blacksmith might not suffer, because he was necessary to the place, which could not do without a blacksmith, to shoe horses, mend wheels, &c. But the alcade said, "How, then, can I fulfil justice ?" Alabourer answered, “Sir, there are two weavers in the village, and for so small a place, one is enough; hang the other."

BOTHERATION,

Copy of an Order sent by a Farmer's Wife, to a Tradesman in Town, for a Scarlet Cardinal. Sir,-If you please to send me a scarlet cardinal, let it be full yard long, and let it be full, it is for a large woman; they tell me I may have a large one and a handsome one for eleven shillings, I should not be willing to give more than twelve; but if you have any as long either duffel or cloth, if it comes cheaper I should like to have it, for 1 am not to give more than twelve shillings; I beg you, sir, to be so good as not to fail sending me this cardinal on Wednesday without fail, let it be full yard long, 1 beg, or else it will not do, fail not on Wednesday, and by so doing you will oblige, Your humble servant, M. W.

P.S. I hope you will charge your lowest price, and if you please not to send me a duffel one, but cloth, full yard long and full, and please to send it to Mr. Field's the waterman, who comes to the Beehive, at Queenhithe; pray don't send me a duffel one, but cloth; I have altered my mind, I should not like it duffel, but cloth; let it be full yard long, and let it be cloth, for I don't like duffel; it must not be more than twelve shillings at most, one of the cheapest you have and full yard long; send two, both of a length, and both large ones full yard long; both of a price, they be both for one woman, they must be exactly alike for goodness and price, fail then not on Wednesday, and full yard long.

THE FRIARS OF DIJONA TALE.
When honest men confess'd their sins,
And paid the church genteely-
In Burgundy two Capuching
Lived jovially and freely.

They march'd about from place to place,
With shrift and dispensation;
And mended broken consciences,
Soul-tinkers by vocation.

One friar was Father Boniface,
And he ne'er knew disquiet,
Save when condemn'd to saying grace
O'er mortifying diet.

The other was lean Dominick,

Whose slender form and sallow, Would scarce have made a candlewick For Boniface's tallow.

Albeit, he tippled like a fish,

Though not the same potation;
And mortal man ne'er clear'd a dish
With nimbler mastication.

Those saints without the shirts arrived,
One evening late, to pigeon
A country pair for alms, that lived
About a league from Dijon-
Whose supper pot was set to boil,

On faggots briskly crackling;
The friars enter'd, with a smile,

To Jacquez and to Jacqueline

They bow'd, and bless'd the dame, and then
In pious terms besought her,
To give two holy-minded men

A meal of bread and water.
For water and a crust they crave,

Those mouths that even on Lent days, Scarce knew the taste of water, save

When watering for dainties.

Quoth Jacquez, "That were sorry cheer
For men fatigued and dusty;
And if ye supp'd on crusts, I fear
You'd go to bed but crusty,"

The farmer on a hone prepares,

So forth he brought a flask of rich
Wine fit to feast Silenus,
And viands, at the sight of which
They laugh'd like two hyænas.

Alternately the host and spouse
Regaled each pardon-gauger,
Who told them tales right marvellous,
And lied as for a wager--

'Bout churches like balloons convey'd

With aeronautic martyrs ;

And wells made warm, where holy maid
Had only dipt her garters.

And if their hearers gaped, I guess
With jaws three inch asunder,
"Twas part out of weariness,
And partly out of wonder.

Then striking up duets, the Freres
Went on to sing in matches,
From psalms to sentimental airs,
From these to glees and catches.

At last they would have danced outright,
Like a baboon aud tame bear,
If Jacquez had not drunk Good night,
And shewn them to their chamber.

The room was high, the host's was nigh --
Had wife or he suspicion,

That monks would make a rarce-show
Of chinks in the partition ?—

Or that two confessors would come
Their holy ears not-reaching,
To conversations as hum-drum
Almost as their own preaching?
Shame on you Friars of orders gray,
That peeping knelt, and wriggling,
And when ye should have gone to pray,
Betook yourselves to giggling!
Bat every deed will have its meed:
And bark! what information
Has made the sinners, in a trice,
Look black with consternation.

His knife, a long and keen one;
And talks of killing both the Freres,
The fat one and the lean one,
To-morrow, by the break of day,
He orders too, salt-petre,

And pickling tubs; but, reader, stay,
Our host was no man-eater.

The priests knew not that country-folk
Gave pigs the name of friars ;
But startled, witless of the joke,
As if they'd trod on briars.

Meanwhile, as they perspired with dread,
The hair of either craven

Had stood erect upon his head,

But that their heads were shaven.

What, pickle and smoke us limb by limb!
God curse him and his larders!
St. Peter will bedevil him,
If he salt-petres Friars.

And so they girt themselves to leap,
Both under breath imploring
A regiment of Saints to keep
Their host and hostess snoring.
The lean one lighted like a cat,
Then scamper'd off like Jehu,
Nor stopp'd to help the man of fat,
Whose cheek was of a clay hue-
Who being by nature more design'd
For resting than for jumping,
Fell heavy on his parts behind,

That broaden'd with the plumping.

There long beneath the window's sconce
His bruises he sat pawing,
Squat as the figure of a bonze
Upon a Chinese drawing.

At length he waddled to a sty;

The pigs, you'd thought for game sake,
Came round and nosed him lovingly,

As if they'd known their namesake.
Meanwhile the other flew to town,
And with short respiration
Bray'd like a donkey up and down
Ass-ass-ass-assination!

Men left their beds, and night-capp'd heads
Popp'd out from every casement ;
The cats ran frighten'd on the leads ;
Dijon was all amazement.

Doors bang'd, dogs bay'd, and boys hurra'd,
Throats gaped aghast in bare rows,
Till soundest-sleeping watchmen woke,
And even at last the mayor rose-

Who, charging him before police,
Demands of Dominick surly,

What earthquake, fire, or breach of peace
Made all this hurly-burly

Ass-quoth the priest-ass-assins, sir,
Are (hence a league, or nigher)
About to salt, scrape, massacre
And barrel up a friar.

Soon at the magistrate's command,

A troop from the gens-d'armes house
Of twenty men rode sword in hand,
To storm the bloody farm's house.
As they were cantering toward the place,
Comes Jacquez to the swineyard,"
But started when a great round face
Cried, Rascal, hold thy whinyard.
'Twas Boniface, as mad's King Lear,
Playing antics in the piggery :-
"And what the devil brought you here,
You mountain of a friar, eh ?"

Ah, once how jolly, now how wan,
And blubber'd with the vapours,
That frantic Capuchin began

To cut fantastic capers

Crying help, hollo, the bellows blow,
The pot is on to stew me;
I am a pretty pig, but no!

They shall not barbacue me.
Nor. was this raving fit a sham;
In truth, he was hysterical,
Until they brought him out a dram,

And that wrought like a miracle.
Just as the horseman halted near,

Crying, Murderer, stop, ohoy, oh! Jacquez was comforting the frere

With a good glass of noyeau-
Who beckon'd to them not to kick up
A row; but waxing mellow,
Squeez'd Jacquez' hand, and with a hicen
Said you're a dame'd good fellow,
Explaining lost but little breath;—
Here ended all the matters
So God save Queen Elizabeth,
And long live Henry Quatre!

The gens-d'armes at the story broke
Into horse fits of laughter,
And, as if they had known the joke,
Their horses neigh'd thereafter.