'Tis hard with plenty in the street There's nice young men at Number Ten, But only rather shy. And Mrs. Smith, across the way, Has got a grown-up son; There is a Number One. There's Mr. Wick at Number Nine, And though he 's pious will not love At Number Seven there was a sale, My mother often sits at work, The very maids about the house, Once only, when the flue took fire, I am not old, I am not plain, That went from Number Eight. I'm sure white satin made her look As brown as any bun: But even beauty has no chance, At Number Six, they say Miss Rose Quite prodigal of darts. The imp that slew, with bended bow, But if he had he'd never deign It's very hard, and so it is, And here's a ballad singer come, ་ O take away your foolish song, There is nae luck about the house, THE FRENCHMAN AND THE RATS.-ANON. A FRENCHMAN once who was a merry wight, And hallo! Garçon, a pot of portar too!" he said, His supper done, some scraps of cheese were left, To wished-for bed; but not a wink he slept- Our hero now undressed, popped out the light, Sans cérémonie soon the rats all ran, And on the flour-sacks greedily began ; At which they gorged themselves; then smelling round, And while at this they regaling sat, Their happy jaws disturbed the Frenchman's nap; Who, half awake, cries out, "Hallo! hallo! Vat is dat nibbel at my pillow so? Ah! 'tis one big huge rat! Vat de diable is it he nibbel, nibbel at?" Bawling aloud, called stoutly for a light. Bring me the bill for vat I have to pay !" The bill was brought, and to his great surprise, Ten shillings was the charge, he scarce believes his eyes; With eager haste he runs it o'er, And every time he viewed it thought it more. "Vy zounds, and zounds !" he cries, "I sall no pay; Vare all de rats do run about my head ?" "Plague on those rats !" the landlord muttered out; "I'll him well that can." "Attend to me, Vill you dis charge forego, vat I am at, If from your house I drive away de rat?" And den invite de rats to sup vid you: And after dat—no matter dey be villing— pray : For vat dey eat, you charge dem just ten shelang: Dey 'il quit your house, and never come no more." CONNUBIAL CONFAB.-ANON. MR. AND MRS. TINDER. He. I say I will be heard, madam. She. All over the parish. Can't you speak in the house? He. I'm not allowed to speak in the house; especially turn the house out o'windows! I declare I never see an hour's comfort at home for you. when you She. Because, sir, you're never at home an hour to see it. Do I ever receive you coldly? He. No, madam, you make the house too hot to hold me. You begin it always-morning, noon, and night. She. Me! 'tis you. He, I say you do! He. I say you are a l She. Pardon If you didn't begin it, I never should. -,a story teller! me, I never told a falsehood in my life. He. You have, and sworn to it. She. When was that? He. When you swore to "love, honor, and obey." She. Aye, then I grant you; but after all that was merely a joke, for neither parson or witnesses believed me. He. A joke, indeed, for She. A single life has trouble, He. But marriage makes it double, She. You're my pain, He. You're my bane. Now, I say, madam, a woman ought to give in to her husband. Nature ordained it so; she being the weaker vessel, therefore, ought to be broke. She. Not in all cases, for it often happens that a woman possesses the most animal strength. Then, how is nature at fault? For my part, I prefer— "The good old plan, Master let them be who can." He. Don't irritate me! |