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THE LAUGHING PHILOSOPHER,

or three bareheaded and barefooted urchins, that had
perhaps known a better fate and better living. But
the most conspicuous figures were two black-eyed
lasses, with red cloaks flung over their shoulders,
while their sun-burnt, though impressive and hand-
They were apparently the pro-
some features, were partly shrouded by a capacious
hood and bonnet.
At this moment one
phetesses of the party, and doubtless no unpleasing

ment from the sports of the Fair, I beheld, beath the shade of some gigantic oaks, a band of nerable fathers that might remind us of the patriof old. Too old to engage in more robust exises, these contented elders reclined there to view activity of their sons; and, as they applauded skill of the present generation, waxed strong in es of former times; previously clearing their At some ones to their rustic customers. oats with a jug of the best village ale. of them, stretching out her long uncovered arm, was Lance from these a circle of aged dames were ted round a polished deal table to indulge in a accurately inspecting the hand of an antiquated maiden, and promising her connubia! felicity and a h of the best green tea. Like their lords and masa, they were arrayed in their best gowns and bod- numerous offspring. It was amusing enough to see that had lain in the neatly-composed drawer the one, who might be nearly called a dame, chuckhome for many a day, and were now drawn forthling at this promise, and secretly admiting her own all their rustling splendor and profusion of puck- obselete charms, and already captivating the hearts There were some healthy fat-looking souls of youth in her imagination; while the other asghing at some good joke till the tears came in their sumed a pretended appearance of mystic gravity, as es; while a few steadier matrons turned one eye her laughing eye betrayed her inward ridicule of the the tea-table, and, with the other, watched the object standing before her. Her sister prophetess was unrolling the page of his destiny'to a half-witted tions of their daughters, who seized this opportuy to flirt with their lovers. Cupid, indeed, must countryman, who seemed fearful of trusting his hand emptied his quiver; for the various love-pre- within that of the gipsey, thinking perhaps she 1 saw borne off in triumph, must have had a might carry him to the Devil in a high wind. His werful effect on hearts hitherto impregnable. At doubting idiotic look was powerfully contrasted by moment my eye was caught by some smoke that the half scornful fiery glance of the maiden, who curling over the tops of the trees in another part seemed to regard him much in the same manner as a hawk eyes a trembling pigeon ere he pounces on it. wood, and throwing a dusky hue over the surding foliage; and, on a more curious inspection, Doubtless he considered her oracles infallible; but covered a group of gypseys stationed there, like whether he returned to his farm-yard with a giggle Antelar deities of the forest, to utter their oracles of gladness, or a presentiment of approaching death, the native oak. These wanderers, equally with I stayed not to unravel, but I suspect the blackothers, had come to take advantage of the Fair, browed damsel was inclined to play some severe joke ere dealing out pottery-ware and fortunes by upon him. The other members of the gipsey settlement bore nothing very remarkable in their appearle. They were bargaining pots and pans, some damsels and marrying others, in quick ance; there were two or three men ergaged in seilsion; and, urged by my innate spirit of curio- ing knives, &c., whose countenances seemed to have approached to take a nearer view of them. manfully endured and opposed every extremity of mirist sat two sibyls hanging over the fumes of weather, and might perhaps, to a better physiognocontaining their evening's repast, and feeding mist than myself, have borne a sinister cast of exDeler fire from time to time with sticks they had pression, indicative of a mind capable of foraging in the neighbouring hen-roosts. But leaving these, in the wood. Near them were playing wo

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or received. The birds were slumbering in the woods, the sheep-bells tinkled no more over the plain, and I was left alone unregarded under fic shade of the forest-trees, that waved with a bolla, tremalous murmur, as if admonishing me to be gen lest by loitering I should disturb the nocturnal g bols of Mab and her fairy train

NEW PICKPOCKET.

A gentleman, who saw Wilkes's coach drawn by men, the horses being taken off, told the lord way he had lost his handkerchief in the crowd. "Ve possibly," said his lordship, "I fancy one of coach horses has picked your pocket."

POVERTY A VIRTUE.

A gentleman maintaining that poverty was & tue. That," said his friend, is literally rusia, a virtue of necessity."

THE PRINTING OFFICE.

Chorus of Devils.

the prophetess, and a tattered old man, apparently
the ruler of the tribe, to their profitable avocations,
I once more returned to the Fair itself. Here there
were decisive marks of the approach of even, and
of the finishing of this grand gala. The swings, re-
laxing in their rapid motion, moved heavily and
slowly to and fro, like the pendulum of a huge fa-
mily clock, that may be seen in the corner of some
fragrant kitchen, gleaming in all its rich japannery,
and, with one mighty well-known tick, informing the
ruddy-faced perspiring scullion, that the potatoes
have boiled enough. The lately stentorian voices of
the showmen died away in their throats, with a gur-
gling murmur resembling the sound of distant waters.
The venerable patriarchs were rising one by one,
with slow gravity, from their verdant seats, and with
one last look at the empty jug, each buttoned up his
capacious flowing doublet, raised with a shrug the
waistband of his breeches, shouldered his club stick,
the trusty supporter of his steps, and wended on his
way homeward. The tea-pot of the merry dames,
drained to its lees, stood idly on the table, the cups
and saucers ceased to rattle, and silence was reigning Not a penn'orth o' copy is come per post!
over that festive board, that had lately resounded
with the laugh of pleasure and delight, as some well-
fraught tale was ended, or some acute observation
burst forth with a wink and a nod from the lips of
the company. The bustling matrons themselves were
reclining on the still stout arms of their spouses, or
dragging away their giggling daughters, who on every
possible opportunity turned their heads to catch one
last glance of, or blow a kiss to, their affianced
lovers. There might be seen too, some with an air
of merriment, others with an expression which strove
to be genteelly melancholy, wandering back to their
humble cots, with thoughts divided between the hard-
ship of to-morrow's ploughing, and the enumeration
of how many pigs, how many fowls, and how much
stock, they must possess, ere they can hope to have
their ardent passion rewarded, and their liberty sub-
the bonds of Hymen. The cudgels lay
the grass; their owners had retired to
the broken head which they had given

"All's lost! All's lost!

That

Not a line in hand,

The Press at a stand!

And we're coming so close to the First of the Number will never be out to its day I'm certain and sure,

Though he looks so demure,

Mr.

a deuce of a cool une;

For, day after day,
He blarneys away,
And feeds up our hopes,
With his figures and tropes;
Promises making,

And promises breaking,.
As if he delighted to fool one.
Sulphur and nitre! all's lost, all's lost!
Not a penn'orth o' copy is come per post!"
First Compositor.

Oh! dear
Dear! dear!

what can the matter be?
what can the matter be?

THE LAUGHING PHILOSOPHER.

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Enter the Editor, booted and spurred, with a long and a bundle; Devils stare and put down the -A pause.)

EDITOR.

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Chorus,

(CROWDING ROUND.)

"And where are all the papers, Sir
You promis'd you would send,

For how can any Printer stir
When his copy's at an end?"

(Devils speak alternately, the Editor looking
miserable.)

"And where's The Bachelor?'-and where Good Mr. Sterling's "Thoughts on Prayer!' "And Burton's Verses on the Stocks?' "And Lozell's Prose on Weathercocks?' "And where is Martin on the Martyrs?'"And The Mistake?'- and

ters?"

Changing Quar

"Those Sonnets?' and The Welcome Guest?'

On Calumny?' 'On Interest?'

"How ail your vast professions fall

You speak us soft and fair;

But when we ask, 'Where are they all?'
And Echo answers- Where.

Editor.

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the prophetess, and a tattered old man, apparently the ruler of the tribe, to their profitable avocations, I once more returned to the Fair itself. Here there were decisive marks of the approach of even, and of the finishing of this grand gala. The swings, relaxing in their rapid motion, moved heavily and slowly to and fro, like the pendulum of a huge family clock, that may be seen in the corner of some fragrant kitchen, gleaming in all its rich japannery, and, with one mighty well-known tick, informing the ruddy-faced perspiring scullion, that the potatoes have boiled enough. The lately stentorian voices of the showmen died away in their throats, with a gurgling murmur resembling the sound of distant waters. The venerable patriarchs were rising one by one, with slow gravity, from their verdant seats, and with one last look at the empty jug, each buttoned up his capacious flowing doublet, raised with a shrug the waistband of his breeches, shouldered his club stick, the trusty supporter of his steps, and wended on his way homeward. The tea-pot of the merry dames, drained to its lees, stood idly on the table, the cups and saucers ceased to rattle, and silence was reigning over that festive board, that had lately resounded with the laugh of pleasure and delight, as some wellfraught tale was ended, or some acute observation burst forth with a wink and a nod from the lips of the company. The bustling matrons themselves were reclining on the still stout arms of their spouses, or dragging away their giggling daughters, who on every possible opportunity turned their heads to catch one last glance of, or blow a kiss to, their affianced lovers. There might be seen too, some with an air of merriment, others with an expression which strove to be genteelly melancholy, wandering back to their humble cots, with thoughts divided between the hardship of to-morrow's ploughing, and the enumeration of how many pigs, how many fowls, and how much stock, they must possess, ere they can hope to have their ardent passion rewarded, and their liberty subcted to the bonds of Hymen. The cudgels lay ttered on the grass; their owners had retired to tate on the broken head which they had given

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And we're coming so close to the First of That the Number will never be out to its day I'm certain and sure,

Though he looks so demure,
Mr.
a deuce of a cool one;

For, day after day,
He blarneys away,
And feeds up our hopes,
With his figures and tropes;
Promises making,

And promises breaking,
As if he delighted to fool one.
Sulphur and nitre! all's lost, all's lost!
Not a penn'orth o' copy is come per post!"
First Compositor.

"Oh! dear what can the matter be? Dear! dear! what can the matter be?

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