S stole it;
T took it;

V viewed it;

W wanted it;

X, Y, Z, and amperse-and,

All wish'd for a piece in hand.

XLIV.

A. for the ape, that we saw at the fair;
B for a blockhead, who ne'er shall go there;
C for a collyflower, white as a curd;
D for a duck, a very good bird;
E for an egg, good in pudding or pies;
F for a farmer, rich, honest, and wise;
G for a gentleman, void of all care;
II for the hound, that ran down the hare;
I for an Indian, sooty and dark;

K for the keeper, that look'd to the park;
L for a lark, that soar'd in the air;
M for a mole, that ne'er could get there;
N for Sir Nobody, ever in fault;
O for an otter, that ne'er could be caught;
P for a pudding, stuck full of plums ;
Q was for quartering it, see here he comes;
R for a rook, that croak'd in the trees;
S for a sailor, that plough'd the deep seas;

T for a top, that doth prettily spin;
V for a virgin of delicate mien;
W for wealth, in gold, silver, and pence;
X for old Xenophon, noted for sense;
Y for a yew, which for ever is green;
Z for the zebra, that belongs to the queen.

THE STORY OF CATSKIN.

THERE once was a gentleman grand,

Who lived at his country seat;

He wanted an heir to his land,
For he'd nothing but daughters yet.

His lady's again in the way,

So she said to her husband with joy,

"I hope some or other fine day,

To present you, my dear, with a boy."

The gentleman answered gruff,

"If 't should turn out a maid or a mouse,

For of both we have more than enough,

She shan't stay to live in my house."

The lady, at this declaration,

Almost fainted away with pain;
But what was her sad consternation,
When a sweet little girl came again.

She sent her away to be nurs'd,
Without seeing her gruff papa;
And when she was old enough,
To a school she was packed away.

Fifteen summers are fled,

Now she left good Mrs. Jervis ; To see home she was forbid,

She determined to go and scek service.

Her dresses so grand and so gay,
She carefully rolled in a knob ;
Which she hid in a forest away,
And put on a Catskin robe.

She knock'd at a castle gate,
And pray'd for charity;

They sent her some meat on a plate,
And kept her a scullion to be.

My lady look'd long in her face,
And prais'd her great beauty;
I'm sorry I've no better place,
And you must our scullion be.

So Catskin was under the cook,
A very sad life she led,
For often a ladle she took,

And broke poor Catskin's head.

There is now a grand ball to be,

When ladies their beauties show; "Mrs. Cook," said Catskin, " dear me, How much I should like to go!

"You go with your Catskin robe,
You dirty impudent slut!
Among the fine ladies and lords,
A very fine figure you'd cut.'

A basin of water she took,

And dash'd in poor Catskin's face; But briskly her ears she shook, And went to her hiding-place.

She washed every stain from her skin, In some crystal waterfall;

Then put on a beautiful dress,

And hasted away to the ball.