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And one in blue, at Number Two,

Calls daily like a dun;
It's very hard they come so near,

And not to Number One.

Miss Bell, I hear, has got a dear

Exactly to her mind,
By sitting at the window pane

Without a bit of blind.
But I go in the balcony

Which she has never done,
Yet arts that thrive at Number Five

Don't take at Number One.

'Tis hard with plenty in the street

And plenty passing by-
There's nice young men at Number Ten,

But only rather shy.
And Mrs. Smith, across the way,

Has got a grown-up son;
But la, he hardly seems to know

There is a Number One.

There's Mr. Wick at Number Nine,

But he's intent on pelf,
And though he's pious will not love

His neighbor as himself.
At Number Seven there was a sale,

The goods had quite a run;
And here I've got my single lot,

On hand at Number One.

My mother often sits at work,

And talks of props and stays; And what a comfort I shall be

In her declining days.

The very

maids about the house, Have set me down a nun; The sweetheats all belong to them,

That call at Number One.

Once only, when the flue took fire,

One Friday afternoon,
Young Mr. Long came kindly in

And told me not to swoon.
Why can't he come again without

The Phoenix and the Sun ? We cannot always have a flue

On fire at Number One.

I am not old, I am not plain,

Nor awkward in my gait;
I am not crooked like the bride,

That went from Number Eight. I'm sure white satin made her look

As brown as any bun:
But even beauty has no chance,

I think at Number One.

At Number Six, they say Miss Rose

Has slain a score of hearts : And Cupid for her sake has been

Quite prodigal of darts.
The imp that slew, with bended bow,

I wish he had a gun;
But if he had he'd never deign

To shoot at Number One.

It's very hard, and so it is,

To live in such a row;
And here's a ballad singer come,

To aggravate my woe.

O take away your

foolish

song,
And tones enough to stun,
There is nae luck about the house,

I know, at Number One.

THE FRENCHMAN AND THE RATS.-ANON.

A FRENCHMAN once who was a merry wight,
Passing to town from Dover in the night,
Near the road-side an ale-house chanced to spy :
And being rather tired as well as dry,
Resolved to enter; but first he took a peep,
In hopes a supper he might get, and cheap.
He enters : " Hallo ! Garçon, if you please,
Bring me a leetle bread and cheese.
And ballo! Garçon, a pot of portar too !” he said,
“Vich I shall take, and den myself to bed."

His supper done, some scraps of cheese were left,
Which our poor Frenchman, thinking it no theft,
Into his pocket put; then slowly crept
To wished-for bed; but not a wink he slept-
For on the floor some sacks of flour were laid,
To which the rats a nightly visit paid.

Our hero now undressed, popped out the light,
Put on his cap and bade the world good-night; ;
But first his breeches which contained the fare,
Under his pillow he had placed with care.

Sans cérémonie soon the rats all ran, And on the flour-sacks greedily began; At which they gorged themselves; then smelling round, Under the pillow soon the cheese they found ; 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 ?"

In vain our little hero sought repose;
Sometimes the vermin galloped o'er his nose;
And such the pranks they kept up all the night
That he, on end antipodes upright,
Bawling aloud, called stoutly for a light.
“Hallo! Maison ! Garçon, I say!
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; Vat charge ten shelangs for vat I have mangé? A leetle sup of portar, dis vile bed, Vare all de rats do run about

my

head ?" “Plague on those rats !" the landlord muttered out; “ I wish upon my word, that I could make 'em scout: I'll pay him well that can." 66 Vat's dat

you say him well that can.” “Attend to me, I pray : Vill you dis charge forego, vat I am at, If from your house I drive away de rat ?" "With all my heart," the jolly host replies, “E'coutez donc, ami;” the Frenchman cries. "First, den-Regardez, if you please, Bring to dis spot a leetal bread and cheese Eh bien ! a pot of portar too ; And den invite de rats to sup vid you: And after dat no matter dey be villingFor vat dey eat, you charge dem just ten shelang : And I am sure, ven dey behold de score, Dey 'il quit your house, and never come no more."

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6 I'll pay

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 when you

turn the house out o'windows! I declare I never see an hour's comfort at home for 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. If you didn't begin it, I never should.
He, I say you do !
She. I say I do not.
He. I say you are a la story teller!
She. Pardon 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 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!

woman

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