Rob. Ha ha ha! What work I will make in the village Work!-no, there shall be no such thing as work; it shall be all play. Where shall I go to? I'll go to--no, I won't go there. I'll go to Farmer Hedges takes, and tell him—— no, I'll not go there. I'll go I'll go no where; yes, I will; I'll go everywhere; I'll be neither here nor there, nor any where else. How pleased Dolly will be when she hears— (Enter Villagers, shouting.) Dick, Tom, Jack, how are you, my lads? Here's news for you! Come, stand round, make a ring, and I'll make a bit (They all get round him.) First of all, of a speech to you. I suppose Snacks has told you that I'm your landlord? Rob. So am I; and I'll make you all happy; I'll lower all your rents. All. Huzza! long live Lord Robin! Rob. You shan't pay no rent at all. All. Huzza! buzza! long live Lord Robin! Rob. I'll have no poor people in the parish, for I'll make 'em all rich; I'll have no widows, for I'll marry 'em all. (All shout.) I'll have no orphan children, for I'll father 'em all myself; and if that's not doing as a lord should do, then I say I know nothing about the matter-that's all. All. Huzza! huzza! (Enter Snacks.) Snacks. I have brought your lordship the money.-He means to make 'em fly; so I have taken care the guineas shall be all light. (Aside.) Rob. Now, then, young and old, great and small, little and tall, merry men all, here's among you. (Throws the money; they scramble.) Now you've got your pockets filled, come to the castle, and I'll fill all your mouths for you. (Villagers earry him off, shouting-Snacks follows.) THE TROUBLESOME WIFE.--ANON. A MAN had once a vicious wife (A most uncommon thing in life ;) His days and nights were spent in strife unceasing, Her tongue went glibly all day long, Sweet contradiction still her song, And all the poor man did was wrong, and ill-done. A truce without doors, or within, From speeches long as tradesmen spin, Or rest from her eternal din, he found not. He every soothing art displayed; Tried of what stuff her hide was made. Once walking by a river's side, In mournful terms, "My dear," he cried, "No more let feuds our peace divide: I'll end them. Weary of life, and quite resigned, To drown, I have made up my mind, So tie my hands as fast behind, as can be ; Or nature may assert her reign, My arms assist, my will restrain, And swimming, I once more regain my troubles." With eager haste the dame complies, While joy stands glistening in her eyes: Already, in her thoughts, he dies before her. "Yet, when I view the rolling tide, It would be better far, I think, You push me in-nay, never shrink, but do it." To give the blow the more effect, Some twenty yards she ran direct, And did what she could least expect she should do. He slips aside, himself to save, So souse she dashes in the wave, And gave, what ne'er she gave before, much pleasure. "Dear husband, help! I sink!" she cried; "Thou best of wives," the man replied, "I would. but you my hands have tied : heaven help you." LODGINGS FOR SINGLE GENTLEMEN.-COLMAN. Who has e'er been in London, that overgrown place, Will Waddle, whose temper was studious and lonely, He entered his rooms, and to bed he retreated; Next night 't was the same!—and the next! and the next! His weakly condition was past all expression. In six months his acquaintance began much to doubt him; For his skin "like a lady's loose gown," hung about him. He sent for a doctor, and cried, like a ninny, "I've lost many pounds-make me well-there's a guinea." The doctor looked wise:-" a slow fever," he said; "Sudorifies in bed," exclaimed Will, "are humbugs! Will kicked out the doctor:-but when ill indeed, Look ye, landlord, I think," argued Will with a grin, Quoth the landlord,—" Till now, I ne'er had a dispute, "The oven!!!"—says Will;-says the host, "Why this pas sion? In that excellent bed died three people of fashion. Why so crusty, good sir ?"—" Odds!" cried Will in a taking "Who would not be crusty, with half a year's baking?" "Will paid for his rooms ;"-cried the host with a sneer, "Well, I see you 've been going away half a year." "Friend, we can't well agree;-yet no quarrel,"-Will said: "But I'd rather not perish, while you make your bread." THE RICH MAN AND THE POOR MAN.-KHEMNITZER. So goes the world; if wealthy, you may call Though you are worthless-witless-never mind it; You may have been a stable-boy-what then? You seek respect, no doubt, and you will find it. 'T is all in vain;-the world will ne'er inquire On such a score:-Why should it take the pains? 'Tis easier to weigh purses, sure, than brains. I once saw a poor fellow, keen and clever, Witty and wise:—he paid a man a visit, And no one noticed him, and no one ever Gave him a welcome. "Strange," cried I, "whence is it !" Said by their silence-"Better stay at home." As Croesus rich, I'm sure He could not pride himself upon his wit; "Allow me sir, the honor;"-Then a bow And to himself he said, This is indeed beyond my comprehension :" Then looking round, One friendly face he found, |