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Some carry little sticks—and one His eggs—to warm them in the sun : Dear ! what a hustle And bustle ! And there's my aunt. I know her by her waist, So long and thin, And so pinch'd in, Just in the pismire taste. Oh +, what are men —Beings so small, That should I fall Upon their little heads, I must Crush them by hundreds into dust! And what is life and all its ages— There's seven stages : Turnham Green : Chelsea! Putney! Fulham Brentford ' and Kew And Tooting too! And oh! what very little nags to pull 'em. Yet each would seem a horse indeed, If here at Paul's tip-top we'd got 'em, Although like Cinderella's breed, They're mice at bottom. Then let me not despise a horse, Though he looks small from Paul's high cross Since he would be as near the sky, Fourteen hands high. What is this world with London in its lap * Mogg's Map. The Thames, that ebbs and flows in its broad channel 2 * A tidy kennel. The bridges stretching from its banks 3 Stone planks. Ah me! hence I could read an admonition To mad Ambition But that he would not listen to my call, Though I should stand upon the cross and ball.
pu Rity of ELectiox. The day of election is madman's holiday, 'tis the
acted upon as machines are, and to make his wheels move properly, he is properly greased in the fistEvery freeholder enjoys his portion of septennial insanity; he'll eat and drink with every body without paying for it, because he's bold and free; then he lo knock down every body who won't say as he says, to prove his abhorrence of arbitrary power, and preserve the liberty of Old England for ever, huzza :
Thire vicA ft or an a r. In good king Charles's golden days, When loyalty no harm meant, A zealous high-church man I was, And so I got preferment: To teach my flock I never miss'd, Kings are by God appointed, * And damn'd are those that do resist, Or touch the Lord's anointed. And this is law I will maintain . Until my dying day, sir, That whatsoever king shall reign, I'll be the vicar of Bray, sir.
When royal James obtain'd the crown,
golden day of liberty which every voter, on that day, The church of England's glory, takes to market, and is his own salesman; for man Another face of things was seen, at that time being considered as a mere machine, is And I became a tory
man dat born ob a woman hab long time to lib, ouble ebery day too much ; he grow up like a io, he cut down like a bannana. Pose a man do he get good; pose de man do bad, he get bad. he do good, he go to da place call him Glolio, Goramity tan upon a top, and debble on a bothe do bad, he go to da place call him Hell, be mot burn like a pepper cod; he call for a wara, nobody give him drop a wara to in dan tongue. Tan, breren, you know one dey call be Sampson, he kill twenty tousand sno, with the i. bone jackmorass. Tan you Jonass, he swallow whale; he hell ob a fellow for fish; and tora man, he call
ara many cal
him King George, he lib at tora side wara, he hab ting on he head, call him crown, and a grand ting, all sam com basket; so breren, Goramity bless you all.—AMEN.
rPILocure to TYRANN Ic LovE. Spoken by Nell Gwyn, when she was to be carried off dead by the Bearers To the Bearer. Hold are you mad, you d-d confounded dog? I am to rise, and speak the epilogue. To the Audience.
I come, kind gentlemen, strange news to tell ye;
• Her real character. t The character she represented in the play,
Jonas, The Jew conju Ron.
Among the many characters that have played upon the passions of the public, Jonas, or the car -playin conjuring Jew, cut a figure in his way. He coul make matadores with a snap of his fingers, command the four aces with a whistle, and get odd tricks— but there are a great many people in London, besides this man, famous for playing odd tricks, and yet no conjurors neither. This man would have made a great figure in the law, as he was so dexterous a conveyancer. But the law is a profession that does not want any jugglers. Nor do we need any longer to load our heads with the weight of learning, or pore for years over arts and sciences, when a few months practice with pasteboard pages can make any man's fortune, without his understanding a single letter of the alphabet, provided he can but slip the cards, snap his fingers, and utter the unintelligible jargon of Presto, passa, largo, mento, cocotorum, yaw, like this Jonas. The moment he comes into company and takes up a pack of cards, he begins—“I am no common slight of hand man; the common slight of hand men they turn the things up their sleeves, and make you believe their fingers deceive your eyes. —Now, sir, you shall draw one card, two cards, three cards, four cards, five cards, half a dozen cards, you look at the card at this side, you look at the card at that side, and I say blow the blast; the blast is blown, the card is flown, yaw, yaw ; and now, sir, I will do it once more over again, to see whether my fingers can once more deceive your eyes; I'll give any man ten thousand pounds if he does the like— You look at the card of this side, you look at the card on that side, when I say blow the blast, the blast is blown, the card is flown, yaw, yaw ;” but this conjuror at length discovering that most practitioners on cards, now-a-days, know as many tricks as himself, and finding his slights of hand turned to little or no account, now practises on notes of hand by discount, and is to be found every morning at twelve in Duke's-place, -up to his knuckles in dirt, and at two at the Bank coffee-house, up to his elbows in money, where these locusts of society, over a dish of
coffee and the book of interest, supply the temporary wants of necessitous men, and are sure to out-wit'em had they even the cunning of a Fox.
Miiseries of Matrixioxy
What, what is Marriage ' Harris, Priscian,
Marriage is–Gad I'm rather late 1
A simple countryman, who had in his person all the health and vigour which a rustic life affords, and about the age of thirty-two, having, three years before married an honest maid, of whom he always appeared doatingly fond, was attending her corpse at the grave with many heavy sighs and floods of tears. At the end of the funeral-service, as they began to fill the grave with the earth, he wrung his hands, tore his hair, and was ready to throw himself into the grave upon the coffin, vehemently exclaiming that he should not survive her.—It happened that a buxom maid of the same parish, whose name was Patience, was standing by, and on whom the honest countryman at times had cast a wistful look, who seeing him so agitated, and grieving so much for the loss of his wife, with great concern said to him, “John, John,
round, and seeing who it was that spoke to him, in a
fit of ecstasy replied, “Egad, so I will, to-morlow, if
thou wilt have me.”
Like hungry guests a sitting audience looks:
Recovert Y of A SPENDTH RIFT. A nobleman whose son was a hard drinker, and had
have Patience.”—The honest countryman turning
been cutting down all the trees upon his estate, in
In an Act of Parliament made in 1815, entitled “An Act for the better regulating the practice of Apothecaries,” there is a very salutary clause, which enacts, “that from and after the first day of August, 1815, it shall not be lawful for any person (except persons already in practice as such) to practise as an apothecary in any part of England or Wales, unless he or they shall have been examined by the Court of Examiners of the Apothecaries' Company, and shall have received a certificate as such.” The first conviction under this Act took place at the Staffordshire Lent Assizes of 1819, before Sir William Garrow, when the Apothecaries' Company brought an action against a man of the name of Warburton, for having practised as an apothecary without being duly qualified. The defendant it appeared was the son of a man who in the early part of his life had been a gardener, but afterwards set up as a cow leech. The facts were stated by Mr. Dauncey for the prosecution, and supported by evidence. Mr. Jervis, for the defence, called the father of the defendant, Arnold Warburton, to prove that he had practised as an apothecary before the passing of the Act. Cross-eramined by Mr. Dauncey. Afr. Dauncey. Mr. Warburton, have you always been a surgeon Witness appealed to the judge whether this was a proper answer. The Judge. I have not heard any answer; Mr. Dauncey has put a question. Witness. Must I answer it? Judge. Yes: why do you object? Witness. I don't think it a proper answer. Judge. I presume you mean question, and I differ from you in opinion.