To see, however it had come to pass,
One section of his face as green as grass !
In vain each eager wipe,

With soap

without wet — hot or cold — or dry,
Still, still, and still, to his astonished eye,
One cheek was green, the other cherry ripe!
Plump in the nearest chair he sat him down,
Quaking, and quite absorbed in a deep study, -
But verdant and not brown,

What could have happened to a tint so ruddy?
Indeed, it was a very novel case,

By way of penalty for being jolly,

To have that evergreen stuck in his face,

Just like the windows with their Christmas holly.

"All claret marks,"-thought he-Tom knew his forte“Are red — this color CANNOT come from Port!”

One thing was plain; with such a face as his, "T was quite impossible to ever greet

Good Mrs. Brown.

So he tied up his head,

As with a raging tooth, and took to bed:
Of course with feelings far from the serene,
For all his future prospects seemed to be,

To match his customary tea,
Black, mixed with green.

Meanwhile, good Mrs. Brown.

Wondered at Mr. S. not coming down,

And sent the maid up stairs to learn the why;
To whom poor Simpson, half delirious,

Returned an answer so mysterious

That curiosity began to fry;

The more, as Betty, who had caught a snatch

By peeping in upon the patient's bed,
Reported a most bloody tied-up head,

Got over-night of course-"Harm watch, harm catch," From Watchmen in a boxing match.

So, liberty or not,

Good lodgers are too scarce to let them off in

A suicidal coffin·

The dame ran up as fast as she could trot;
Appearance, "fiddle-sticks!" should not deter
From going to the bed,

And looking at the head;

La! Mister S

he need not care for her!

A married woman that had had

Nine boys and gals, and none had turned out bad —
Her own dear late would come home late at night,
And liquor always got him in a fight.

She'd been in hospitals-she would n't faint
At gores and gashes fingers wide and deep;
She knew what's good for bruises and what an't —
Turlington's Drops she made a pint to keep.
Cases she'd seen beneath the surgent's hand-
Such skulls japanned-she meant to say trepanned!

Hereat she plucked the white cravat aside,
And, lo! the whole phenomenon was seen
"Preserve us all! He's going to gangrene

!"

Alas! through Simpson's brain
Shot the remark, like ball, with mortal pain;
It tallied truly with his own misgiving,
And brought a groan,

To move a heart of stone

A sort of farewell to the land of living!
And, as the case was imminent and urgent,

He did not make a shadow of objection
To Mrs. B's proposal for a "surgent.

Swift flew the summons, - it was life or death!
And, in as short a time as he could race it,
Came Doctor Puddicome, as short of breath,
To try his Latin charms against Hic Jacet.
He took a seat beside the patient's bed,

Saw tongue-felt pulse-examined cheek,

Poked, stroked, pinched, kneaded it, hemmed, shook his head, Took a long, solemn pause the cause to seek

(Thinking, it seemed, in Greek),

Then asked-'t was Christmas

"Had he eaten grass,

Or greens - and if the cook was so improper,
To boil them up with copper,

Or farthings made of brass,

Or if he drank his Hock from dark green glass,
Or dined at City Festivals, whereat

There's turtle, and green fat?"

To all of which, with serious tone of woe,
Poor Simpson answered "No."

The Doctor was at fault;

A thing so new quite brought him to a halt.

Cases of other colors came in crowds.

Black with Black Jaundice he had seen the skin;
From Yellow Jaundice yellow,

From saffron tints to sallow.

Even those eruptions he had never seen

Of which the Caledonian Poet spoke,
As "rashes growing green

"Phoo! phoo! a rash grow green!
Nothing, of course, but a broad Scottish joke!”
Then as to flaming visages, for those

The Scarlet fever answered, or the Rose

But verdant! that was quite a novel stroke'

So matters stood in-doors

meanwhile without

Growing in going like all other rumors, The modern miracle was buzzed about.

"Green faces!" so they all began to comment
"Yes-opposite to Druggists' lighted shops,
But that's a flying color never stops -
A bottle-green, that's vanished in a moment.
Green! nothing of the sort occurs to mind
Nothing at all to match the present piece;
Jack in the Green has nothing of the kind—
Green-grocers are not green, nor yet green geese!"
The oldest Supercargoes or Old Sailors

Of such a case had never heard,

From Emerald Isle to Cape de Verd;

"Or Greenland!” cried the whalers.

All tongues were full of the Green Man, and still
They could not make him out, with all their skill.
No soul could shape the matter, head or tail-
But Truth steps in where all conjectures fail.

A long half-hour, in needless puzzle,

Our Galen's cane had rubbed against his muzzle,

He thought, and thought, and thought, and thought, and thought

And still it came to naught,

When up rushed Betty, loudest of Town Criers,

Lord, Ma'am, the new Police is at the door!
It's B, Ma'am, Twenty-four, -

As brought home Mister S. to Austin Friars,
And says there's nothing but a simple case:
He got that 'ere green face

By sleeping in the kennel near the Dyer's!"

ALL ROUND MY HAT.

A NEW VERSION

• Meditate

meditate, I beseech you, upon Trim's hat.' TRISTRAM SHANDY

COME, my old hat, my steps attend!
However wags may sneer and scoff,
My castor still shall be my friend,

For I'll not be a caster off.
So take again your olden place,

That always found you fit and pat, Whatever mode might please the race,

All round my hat, all round my hat!

All round the world, while I've a head,
However I may chance to be
Without a home, without a shed,
My tile shall be a roof to me.
Black, rusty, gray, devoid of pelt,
A shocking shape, or beaten flat,

Still there are joys that may be felt

All round my hat, all round my hat!

The Quaker loves an ample brim,
A hat that bows to no Salam -
And dear the beaver is to him

As if it never made a dam.

All men in drab he calleth friends;

But there's a broader brim than that Give me the love that comprehends

All round my hat, all round my hat!

The Monarch binds his brows in gold,
With gems and pearls to sparkle there;

But still a hat, a hat that's old,

They say is much more easy wear.