Stringing his nerves like flint,
The sturdy butcher seized upon the hint
At least he seized upon the foremost wether
And hugged and lugged and tugged him neck and crop
Just nolens volens through the open shop-
If tails come off he did n't care a feather-
Then walking to the door, and smiling grim,
He rubbed his forehead and his sleeve together-
"There!-I've conciliated him !"
Again-good-humoredly to end our quarrel—
(Good humor should prevail !)
I'll fit you with a tale
Whereto is tied a moral.
Once on a time a certain English lass
Was seized with symptoms of such deep decline,
Cough, hectic flushes, every evil sign,
That, as their wont is at such desperate pass,
The doctors gave her over-to an ass.
Accordingly, the grisly Shade to bilk,
Each morn the patient quaffed a frothy bowl
Of assinine new milk,
Robbing a shaggy suckling of a foal
Which got proportionably spare and skinny-
Meanwhile the neighbors cried “Poor Mary Ann!
She can't get over it! she never can!"
When lo! to prove each prophet was a ninny,
The one that died was the poor wet-nurse Jenny.
There were but two grown donkeys in the place;
And, most unluckily for Eve's sick daughter,
The other long-eared creature was a male,
Who never in his life had given a pail
Of milk, or even chalk and water.
No matter: at the usual hour of eight
Down trots a donkey to the wicket-gate,
With Mister Simon Gubbins on his back--
"Your sarvant, Miss-a werry spring-like day—
Bad time for hasses, though! good lack! good lack!
Jenny be dead, Miss-but I 'ze brought ye Jack-
He doesn't give no milk-but he can bray."
So runs the story,
And, in vain self-glory,
Some Saints would sneer at Gubbins for his blindness; But what the better are their pious saws
To ailing souls, than dry hee-haws, Without the milk of human kindness?
ONE day the dreary old King of Death
Inclined for some sport with the carnal,
So he tied a pack of darts on his back,
And quietly stole from his charnel.
His head was bald of flesh and of hair,
His body was lean and lank;
His joints at each stir made a crack, and the cur
Took a gnaw, by the way, at his shank.
And what did he do with his deadly darts,
This goblin of grisly bone?
He dabbled and spilled man's blood, and he killed
Like a butcher that kills his own.
The first he slaughtered it made him laugh
(For the man was a coffin-maker),
To think how the mutes, and men in black suits,
Would mourn for an undertaker.
Death saw two Quakers sitting at church;
Quoth he, "We shall not differ."
And he let them alone, like figures of stone,
For he could not make them stiffer.
he saw two duellists going to fight,
Ir fear they could not smother;
And he shot one through at once-for he knew
They never would shoot each other.
He saw a watchman fast in his box,
And he gave a snore infernal;
Said Death, "He may keep his breath, for his sleep Can never be more eternal."
He met a coachman driving a coach
So slow that his fare grew sick;
But he let him stray on his tedious way,
For Death only wars on the quick.
Death saw a tollman taking a toll,
In the spirit of his fraternity;
But he knew that sort of man would extort,
Though summoned to all eternity.
He found an author writing his life,
But he let him write no further;
For Death, who strikes whenever he likes,
Is jealous of all self-murther!
Death saw a patient that pulled out his purse,
And a doctor that took the sum;
But he let them be-for he knew that the "fee"
Was a prelude to "faw" and "fum."
He met a dustman ringing a bell,
And he gave him a mortal thrust; For himself, by law, since Adam's flaw, Is contractor for all our dust.
He saw a sailor mixing his grog,
And he marked him out for slaughter;
For on water he scarcely had cared for death,
And never on rum-and-water.
Death saw two players playing at cards,
But the game was n't worth a dump,
For he quickly laid them flat with a spade,
To wait for the final trump!
My pipe is lit, my grog is mixed,
My curtains drawn and all is snug;
Old Puss is in her elbow chair,
And Tray is sitting on the rug.
Last night I had a curious dream,
Miss Susan Bates was Mistress Mogg-
What d' ye think of that, my cat?
What d' ye think of that, my dog?
She look'd so fair, she sang so well,
I could but woo and she was won;
Myself in blue, the bride in white,
The ring was placed, the deed was done!
Away we went in chaise-and-four,
As fast as grinning boys could flog-
What d'ye think of that my cat?
What d'ye think of that my dog?
What loving tête-à-têtes to come!
What tête-à-têtes must still defer!
When Susan came to live with me,
Her mother came to live with her!
With sister Belle she could n't part,
But all my ties had leave to jog-
What d'ye think of that, my cat?
What d' ye think of that, my dog?
The mother brought a pretty Poll-
A monkey, too, what work he made!
The sister introduced a beau-
My Susan brought a favorite maid.
She had a tabby of her own,-
A snappish mongrel christened Gog,-
What d'ye think of that, my cat?
What d' ye think of that, my dog?
The monkey bit-the parrot screamed,
All day the sister strummed and sung,
The petted maid was such a scold!
My Susan learned to use her tongue;
Her mother had such wretched health,
She sat and croaked like any frog-
What d' ye think of that, my cat?
What d'ye think of that, my dog?
No longer Deary, Duck, and Love,
I soon came down to simple "M!”
The very servants crossed my wish,
My Susan let me down to them.
The poker hardly seemed my own,
I might as well have been a log-
What d' ye think of that, my cat?
What d'ye think of that, my dog?
My clothes they were the queerest shape!
Such coats and hats she never met!
My ways they were the oddest ways!
My friends were such a vulgar set!
Poor Tompkinson was snubbed and huffed,
She could not bear that Mister Blogg-
What d'ye think of that, my cat?
What d' ye think of that, my dog?
At times we had a spar, and then
Mamma must mingle in the song-
The sister took a sister's part-
The maid declared her master wrong-
The parrot learned to call me "Fool!"
My life was like a London fog-
What d'ye think of that, my cat?
What d'ye think of that, my dog?
My Susar's taste was superfine,
As proved by bills that had no erd;
I never had a decent coat-
I never had a coin to spend !
She forced me to resign my club,
Lay down my pipe, retrench my grog-
What d'ye think of that, my cat?
What d'ye think of that, my dog?
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