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Cakeling," faid a neighbour, " you are the man to lead us the way; you have a wife that knows how to do every thing. I'll be bound that she makes bread fit for a Prince if she fets about it.” This is the way, Mr. Editor, that all my friends fpeak about my wife, the has got fuch a name for cleverness. So I went home quite full of our new bread-No-quite elated I mean; for oh! Mr. Editor, to this day, and it is fix weeks ago fince we began to bake, I have not got a belly full of home-made bread.

I wish I had time to go through all our experiments. One time our loaf would not rife; another time it would not come out; it ftuck faft to the bottom; it wanted falt; it had too much falt; it was too wet; it was too dry; it was sometimes quite dough, but in general it was burnt to a cinder. It went on this way for the firft week; my wife and I could not difcover the reafon.We had tried potatoes in every way; we had boiled them, meshed them, pulverized them, poured water after water upon them to make them white; we had reduced (I fay we, for being a national object, I was happy to take a part; befides I own I was a little on the alert, for I had promised my friends at the coffeehoufe to bring them a loaf) we had reduced twenty pounds of potatoes to two, and I had made excellent ftarch of it, though we could not make bread. We had confumed half the ftock of potatoes that was to have served us all the winter, without getting a fingle loaf that was eatable. My wife cried for vexation. She was fure there must be fomething in the matter that we did not dream of,, for fhe knew as well how to make bread as any baker in Scotland, but fhe would find it out before the flept.

An old baker, who had now turned flour factor, of our acquaintance was called in, not because fhe did not. know as well as any baker in Scotland, how to make bread, but there might be fome knack in managing the oven, that he was unacquainted with fomething-in the way of heating it, or of putting the bread in it, or of taking

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taking it out; in fhort, for once she would take advice. "Lord, Ma'am," fays the flour-factor, " it is no wonder you could not fucceed-why, Ma'am you have got one of those kickshaw iron ovens. Lord blefs you they don't answer. They'd burn all the bread in the world before they'd bake it. There's no doing any good with an iron oven." My wife was ftruck dumb: but the yet was fatisfied, fhe was completely acquitted; the fault did not lie with her; but, however, it would be easy to alter it; a fmall oven might be built for a mere trifle on the good old plan, and an oven I accordingly got.

But mark the confequences. The kitchen chimney was torn down, and some how or other the flue was injured. It was impoffible to live in it for fmoke. My maid gave us warning, fhe could not live in it, and I was forced to dine at the coffee-houfe every day. My wife, however, is a woman of refource. She applied to an ingenious mechanic who has great skill in chimnies. This man has invented a fine apparatus for a kitchen. He has a range that does every thing. It boils, roafts, ftews, and bakes all by the fame fire, and the expence is nothing, for it faves itself in fire in a twelvemonth. Nothing would fatisfy my wife but to have this new fashioned range, and accordingly, at an expence of more thau fifty pounds. I have got my kitchen metamorphofed; and I am making mixed bread at no allowance.

My wife has got into the way. This caft-iron oven on the new plan fucceeds to a miracle; and I fhould be quite happy if it were not for the expence. But really, Mr. Editor, there is nothing fo dear as ceconomy. I calculate that every quartern loaf of bread which I make, costs me half a crown; and this is not the worst of it; fometimes we all get the gripes into the bargain. I believe that my apothecary's bill will come to a good round fum for counteracting the effects of the ftaff of life.

I do not afcribe this to my wife: no, Sir, fhe is the beft woman upon earth; but you know it was natural

that

that she should try all mixtures. So one day we had wheat and barley, and that gave us the dyfentery. The next we had a mixture of oatmeal, and that put our blood into a fever:-On the third we had potatoe bread, and then we had indigeftion. In fhort, without knowing, at firft, the reason, we have all been unwell: have all had occafion for the apothecary.-And we are all beginning again, without venturing, however, to fay fo, to with for plain old household bread from the baker.

My neighbours have fome how or another found this out, and I am truly to be pitied. They ask me jeeringly how many hundred weight of potatoes go to a quartern loaf, and the very flour-factor that my wife called in faid to my face at the coffee-house, that if this faving plan went on all the flour in the kingdom would be wafted, and to tell you the truth I begin to think fo.-[Courier.]

CHRIST. CAKELING,

D

JOHNSONIANA;

NOT IN BOSWELL.

R. JOHNSON invented a ftyle of his own, as the beft vehicle for ftrong opinions, and oracular decifions. And though the framer of an artificial language is feldom exact at all times, yet Johnson scarcely ever stepped out of the full period, or betrayed himself by mixing familiar expreffions with gigantick phrafeology; and if at any time he fo far forgot himself, as to fpeak like any body elfe, he foon corrected the mistake by tranflating it into his own language; as in the following inftance: In one company he had praised the Rehearsal vehemently; in another fomebody ventured to do the fame, leaning perhaps on his authority; upon which the Doctor called out, " Hold, Sir!-The Rehearsal has not falt enough to keep;" when inftantly recollecting himself, he went on.-"I fay, Sir, the Rehearfal has not faline particles enough interfperfed in it to preferve it from putrefaction."

Mrs.

Mrs. B defired Dr. Johnson to give his opinion on a new work of hers; adding, that if it would not do, fhe begged him to tell her, for fhe had other irons in the fire, and, in cafe of its not being likely to fucceed, the could bring out fomething elfe; upon which the Doctor, having turned over the work, faid, "Then, Madam, I would advise you to put this where your irons are.”

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PHARMACOPOEIA POLITICA.

MR. EDITOR,

WH

THILE taking my political whet at Batson's yesterday morning, the waiter picked up a fmall MSS. book, and afked me if I had dropt it--"Let me look at it, William," said I.---I found it contained a great many recipes in cookery and phyfic; and I am perfuaded belongs to Dr. HUMDRUM, an eminent practitioner in diseases and politics. The following three recipes I have made free with for the benefit of the public at large; and I flatter myself that the Doctor will not take it amifs that I have fent them. to your paper.

REMEDY FOR WAR.

Take of Minifters of State, a large handful;
Contractors, and

Penfioners, as many of each as can be found. Place them in the front of the battle.

SPECIFIC AGAINST THE PERNICIOUS EFFECTS OF SPECIAL JURIES.

Take of Freeholders, and

Merchants, a complete list;

Range them ALPHABETICALLY.

A page or two of this may be taken at any time with perfect fafety.

FOR

FOR BAD VERDICTS.

Take of Fox's Bill quantum fuff.

Common Sense,

Impartiality---equal parts;

Sprinkle the whole with a Juryman's Oath.
To be taken on going into Court.

Probatum eft.

Of the efficacy of these remedies it is impoffible for me to fpeak, because I never knew a cafe in which they were applied; but as the ingredients are fimple, I fhould fuppofe that the experiment might be made with fome probability of fuccefs. I am, Sir,

[Chronicle.]

Your humble fervant.

PETER PRY.

ALONZO THE BRAVE AND FAIR IMOGINE.

A

A ROMANCE. *

WARRIOR fo bold and a Virgin fo bright
Convers'd as they fat on the green;
They gaz'd on each other with tender delight!
Alonzo the Brave was the name of the knight--
The maid's was the Fair Imogine.

"And, oh!" faid the youth, " fince to-morrow I go To fight in a far distant land,

Your tears for my abfence foon leaving to flow,
Some other will court you, and you

will bestow

On a wealthier fuitor your hand!"

"Oh, hufh these fufpicions," Fair Imogine faid, "Offenfive to love and to me:

For, if you be living, or if you be dead,

I fwear by the Virgin, that none, in your ftead,
Shall husband of Imogine be.

*This beautiful piece of Poetry is extracted from a Romance called the Monk, written by Mr. G. P. Lewis, M. P. As it paffes to us through the medium of the newspapers, it come properly enough within our plan.

appears to

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