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Though you strive all your might you can do nothing
right; While the maids—the old song—can do nothing wrong; · Every shirt wants a button !" Every day they've cold · mutton; They're always a flurrying one, or else they're a hurry
ing one, or else they're a worrying one; Threatening to smother your dear sainted mother, or
kick your big brother; After all your fine doings, your strugglings and stew
ings-why “the house is in ruins!" Then the wine goes like winking, and they cannot help
thinking you've taken to drinking; They're perpetually rows keeping, 'cause out of the
house-keeping they're in bonnets their spouse
keeping; So when they've been meated, if with pies they're not
treated, they vow that they are cheated ! Then against Ascot Races, and all such sweet places,
they set their old faces; And they'll never leave town, nor to Broadstairs go
down, though with bile you're quite brown; For their wife they unwilling are, after cooing and
billing her, to stand a cap from a milliner-e'en a
paltry twelve shillinger; And it gives them the vapours to witness the capers of
those bowers and scrapers, the young linen drapers; Then to add to your woes, they say nobody knows how
the money all goes, but they pay through the
nose for the dear children's clothes; Though you strive and endeavour, they're so mightily
clever, that please them you'll never, till you leave them for ever-yes! the hundredth time sever
6 for ever-AND EVER ! !" Now the gentlemen sure I've no wish to disparage, But this is the way they go on after marriage.
(From the “ Comic Almanack.")
PRIULI AND JAFFIER.
Thomas OTWAY. Pri. No more! I'll hear no more! begone, and leave.
me. Jaff. Not hear me! By my sufferings but you shall : My lord, my lord ! I'm not that abject wretch You think me. Patience! where's the distance throws Me back so far, but I may boldly speak In right, tho' proud oppression will not hear me!
Pri. Have you not wrong'd me ?
Jaff. Could my nature e'er
Pri. Yes, wrong'd me. In the nicest point,
Jaff. Tis to me you owe her :
The affrighted Belvidera, following next,
Pri. You stole her from me, like a thief you stole her
Jaff. Half of your curse you have bestowed in vain ; Heaven hath already crown'd our faithful loves With a young boy sweet as his mother's beauty : May he live to prove more gentle than his grandsire, And happier than his father!
Pri. No more.
Jaff. Yes, all; and then-adieu for ever!
Pri. Home, and be humble ; study to retrench;
Reduce the glittering trappings of thy wife
BILL JONES: A SAILOR'S STORY.
MATTHEW GREGORY LEWIS.
“Some danger doth impend :
Ere we reach our journey's end.”
Does their sight then bode us evil ?”
And meeting with three is the devil.
And only twice before
That I ne'er might see them more.
The second time, by fire
That I did not then expire !
“ Still do I hear their screams for aid,
Which to give was past man's power ;
Since it did not break that hour !"
Brings tears into my eyes :
Three ravens, near you rise ?
Has thus possessed your head, You firmly believe that ghosts appear, And that dead men rise from their blood-stained
bier, To haunt the murderer's bed.” “ Believe it, master ? well I may!
Now mark what I relate; For Gospel-true are the words I say, When I swear, that, during three weeks and a day,
A Ghost was my own shipmate.
And the times were hard to live ;
Which crime may God forgive ! “Oh, 'twas a sad, sad thing to hear
The negroes scream and groan,
And far, far away from their own! “But soon the sailor found his part
Scarce better than the slaves'; For our captain had a tiger's heart, And he plagued his crew with such barbarous art,
We all wished us in our graves !