Obrazy na stronie

If we act law-are judges !—then are we
Like justice, blind—as council, we may see
Enough to know the color of a fee.
In Physic-Practice is our best adviser,
The more we're puzzled, we must seem the wiser.
If war's our trade, and we vain, blust'ring, young,
Should, Thraso-like, fight battles with our tongue,
Soon 'twould appear how ill these airs became us;
The foe comes on-quid nunc ? quin redeamus.
In short, be what we may, experience teaches
This truth—one deed is worth a thousand speeches.
This for myself and school !--Now let me say,
Why with these English rhymes we close our play:
Ladies, for you they're meant-I feel, to you,
Small as I am, that great respect is due :
Quit of my Grecian servitude, I crave
Still to be English Davus—and your slave.
To succour helpless damsels is my plan,
If you should want me, ladies I'm your man.
Should stubborn age your tender hearts provoke,
“I soften rocks, and bend the knotted oak."
Or should false swains for other nymphs forsake ye,
Stay a few years, and I'll be proud to take ye.
If in you smiles we approbation read,
'Tis done already—I'm a man indeed.





HE virgin Member takes his honored place, while beams of modest wisdom

light his face: multum in parvo in the man you see; he represents—the people's majesty! Behold their choice! the pledged, ʼmidst many a cheer, to give free trade! free votes ! free bread and beer! Blest times ! He sits at last within the walls of famed St. Stephen's venerated halls! Oh, shades of Pitt and Fox ! is he within the house of Commons ? How his senses spin! Proud man ! has he then caught the Speaker's eye? no, not just yet—but he will by-and-by. I wonder if there are reporters here? In truth there are, and hard at work, don't fear. O happy man ! By the next post shall reach your loved constituents, the maiden speech! The Press (great tell-tale!) will to all reveal, how you have-spoken for your country's weal! In gaping wonder will the words be read,

The new M. P., Lord Noodle, rose and said.

This pillar of “ten pounders” rises now, and towards the Speaker makes profoundest bow. Unused to so much honor, his weak knees bend with the weight of senate -dignities. He staggers-almost falls--stares—strokes his chin-clears out his throat, and ventures to begin. Sir, am sensible”—(some titter near him) “I am, Sir, sensible". “ Hear ! here ! hear! Hear him!” Now bolder grown, for praise mistaking pother, tea-pots an arm, and spouts out with the other. am, Sir, sensible I am, indeed--that, though I should—want—words—I must proceed ; and, for the first time in my life I think I think-that-no great orator-should-shrink :- and, therefore,--Mr. Speaker-I for one—will speak out freely. Sir-I've not done. Sir, in the name of those enlightened men who sent me here to speak for them—why then, to do my duty--as I said before—to my constituency—I'LL SAY--NO MORE.”

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ITIZENS AND CITIZEN-FELLERS, I stand before you on dis yer

'caison, and I hope noane will deny, unless he's blind, and can't see froo a millstone seberal hundred and sixty-one or two miles under ground.

My remarks on dis glorious 'caison, my down-trodden tax-payers, will be on de subjec' ob de Onion, de Constitution, and de Scar-Spangled Banne.i.

Friends and quadrepeds, dar's one ting under de existin' circumstances, which is as sure as 'leben and eight is iwenty-nine, and dat is dat no State can succeed from this Onion, as long as the American Eagle flaps its bright stripes and broad stars ober de snow-clad heights ob Bunker Hill Monument ! And as Emerson Bennett, de editor ob de Herald, says “De coils ob de ticonderoga am a tightenin', and de Confederate bonds is at a discount, and dem dat tried to eat soup wid a fork wouldn't gib a continental mill-dam for a whole cart-load ob 'em. We're a marchin' down to Richmond town—we're coming down on 'em like six hundred thousand bricks.”

Feller-humans, I always said that Jefferson Davison flew'd his kite too high ; he ain't been no good tenant. My friends, he couldn't keep no hotel. Uncle Samuel is gwine to fit it up now, and he'll take down some scar-spangled banners and post-offices and Monitors, and odder refreshments. He's gwine to put A. B. Lincun in as de landlord. A. B. can keep a hotel, he can easy ’nuff!

But my feller-buffers, dis am a day to rejoice and kick up yer pedals, and to “Sing song, Polly, can't you ki-me oh?" if I may use de expression—and as de balmy zephers wafts its way from the horizon ob all de hemisperes--I think I hear de shivalerry sing, “Oh, brudders, let's skedaddle !” and, my hearers, dey do skedaddle wheneber dey see any ob Uncle Sam's blue-tail Alies arter 'em.

Dey is some pumkins, dem leaders ob rebellion. A man ob common intellect would naturally pose dat de green eyed lobster, cowardice, had taken possession ob dere souls. Oh, no, not all ! dat's de way dey win victories, by runnin', jest as Beauregard at Shiloh. Dey ought to be good on billiards, dey make such bully

When dey git goin', dey lets dere drapery hang loosely about 'em, like Horace Greeley's coat, and den dey goes ahead like a bulgine.

My hearers, Brudder Jonathan rules the roost now-a-days. Britannia ware don't rule de waves no more. Iron is the hunkey boy. Dat's what strikes out from de shoulder and kicks out behind. How are you, Monitor ? 0. K. How are you,

Merrimac? gone to kerwash, like eberyting dat’s Secesh. Yes ; de Erricsons is a great family! I knew 'em well. Dey used to lib on de right hand side ob de road as you went round de corner on de opposite side next to de school house. He's de man what can go on his muscle ! You can't come no more ob your high aluden European monkey shines ober us now.

Now, Uncle Sam í an lick all creation ; if anybody don't believe, why jest let 'em tell Johnny Bul! to come ober here and put on some airs, and see how quick U. S. will take der starch out ob him.

Beauregard, my benighted citizens, had better hire hisself out fur a BrigadierGeneral to an Oyster sloop, and go to Souf America. I only wish I had him here, I'd come down on him like an armful ob dusty shavins. If I was only de man to sentence him, I'd banish him to New Jersey for his natural life and longer, too !

Go forth, my feller beings, conquering and to conquer ; come back on yer knapsacks and strike till the last armed foe expires, and punch him in de nostril !

I will now conclude wid a quotation from Walter Ralf Emmerson, when he says, says he, "In de constituency ob de ancient hyperbolical belligerents, dere lies an unfathomable abyss to which only æsthetic concatenation can adequately approximate."

I agree wid him, feller stugents. Good ebenin'!


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T Neufchatel, in France, where they prepare

Cheeses that set us longing to eat mites, There dwelt a farmer's wife famed for her rare

Skill in these small quadrangular delights. Where they were made they sold for the immense

Price of three sous a piece;

But as salt water made their charms increase, In England the fixed rate was eighteen-pence.

This damsel had to help her in the farm,

To milk her cows, and feed her hogs, A Gascon peasant, with a sturdy arm

For digging, or for carrying logs :-
But in his noddle weak as any baby,

In fact a gaby ;
And such a glutton when you came to feed him,

That Wantly's dragon, who ate “barns and churches,”

As if they were geese and turkeys,
Scarcely could exceed him.
One morn she had prepared a monstrous bowl

Of cream like nectar,
And would not go to church (good careful soul!)

Till she had left it safe with a protector ;
So she gave strict injuction to the Gascon
To watch it while his mistress was to mass gone.
Watch it he did -he never took his eyes off,

But licked his upper, then his under lip,
And doubled up his fist to keep the flies off,
Begrudging them the smallest sip,

Which if they got,
Like my Lord Salisbury, he heav'd a sigh,
And cried—“Oh, happy, happy fly,

How I do envy you your lot!”
Each moment did his appetite grow stronger;

His bowels yearned ;
At length he could not bear it any longer,

But on all sides his looks he turn'd,
And finding that the coast was clear, he quaff'd

The whole up at a draught.
Scudding from church, the farmer's wife

Flew to the dairy ;
But stood aghast, and could not for her life

One sentence mutter,
Until she muster'd breath enough to utter-

“This will craze me !!! And shortly, with a face of scarlet,

The vixen (for she was a vixen) flew

Upon the varlet,
Asking the when, and where, and how, and who,

Had gulped her cream, nor left an atom ?

To which he gave, not seperate replies,
But, with a look of excellent digestion,
One answer made to every question,

"The flies!”
“The flies ! you rogue ! the flies ! you guttling dog !

Behold your whiskers still are cover'd thickly ;
Thief !-villian !- liar !--gormandizer !- hog! -

I'll make you tell another story quickly!”'

With angry


So out she bounc'd, and brought, with loud alarms,
Two stout gen-d'armes,
Who bore him to the judge—a little prig,

Like a red-cabbage rose,
While lots of white ones flourished in his wig !
Looking at once both stern and wise,

He turn’d to the delinquent,
And 'again to question him and catechise,

As to which way the drink went.
Still the same dogged answers rise,
“The flies, my lord; the flies, the flies !''
“Pshaw!" quoth the judge, half peevish and half pompous,
“Why you're a non compos !
You should have watched the bowl, as she desir’d,

And killed the flies, you stupid clown !"
“What! is it lawful, then,” the dolt inquir'd,

"To kill the flies in this here town ?"
“This man's an ass !—a pretty question this !
Lawful ? you booby! to be sure it is.



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XVIII.-AMATEUR AND PROFESSIONAL ACTING. S UPPOSE us now at Mrs. Flourish's ; chairs and sofas all crowded—tea and

coffee quite finished, and the eyes and the ears of the visitants all expanded for the promised display—“Now, my dear Diggory,” said the young gentleman's doting mamma, "make your best bow to the company, and let Dr. Tadpole hear you speak “The Newcastle Apothecary'—I always like Diggory to say. summat happlicable.' “Then, suppose, madam,' replied the doctor, “suppose the young gentleman recites Gay's fable of · The Old Hen and the Young Cock.' “Deary me, doctor, he shall learn that next, after he has got ‘Gimblet,' and ‘Mounseer Tonson,' and 'Bucks, have at ye all,' and Young Norval,' and 'Old Towler,' and 'All the World's a Stage,' and “Hold, hold, my dear madam - why, there's enough for the next nine months—why, you'd multiply the ten parts of speech by forty, and let us have all of them.” “Come, then, Diggory,

” I'll ring the bell, and snuff the candles, and you shall give us that there one first, howsomever, and we'll have t'others afterwards." The doctor interfered no further; the company adjusted themselves in proper order, and sat in rueful expectation of the coming pleasure.

I must here premise, that Master Flourish's memory, although tolerably tenacious as to the number of its subjects, was rather variable as to the method of detailing them ; thus making a kind of dramatic cross-reading, which sometimes marred the solemn effect of his performance. At length, therefore, after blacking

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his face, clearing his throat, and pulling up his trousers, with great gravity he thus began :

6. I do remember an apothecary,

And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
A halligator stuffed.
A member of this Æsculapian line,
Lived at Newcastle-upon-Tyne,-
His name was Bolus.
My poverty but not my will consents :

When taken,

To be well shaken.
A beggarly account of empty boxes,

Calling aloud, What, ho! apothecary.' During this very extraordinary exhibition, the good old lady, winked, nodded, and prompted, but all to no purpose. The fact was, Master Diggory's speeches were literally at his finger's ends; as, being accustomed to work them into his head, by scratching himself with a particular finger, the same manæuvre was always to be performed at the recital ; and the application of a wrong digit invariably introduced a wrong passage. “Why, Diggory, my love,” at length exclaimed his perturbed mamma, “you were sadly out, my dear—now do try again, chuck, and let the company hear Gimblett's silliliquous about Toby.” Master Flourish accordingly again hah'd and hemmed, and after the usual evolutions, thus broke out :

Toby, or not Toby—that there's the question ;
Whether—my name is Norval :
On the Grampian hills my father feeds his
Pigs—no, sheep—his flocks—flocks of
Pigeons—that flesh is heir to.
To die, to sleep—a hore ! a horse !
My kingdom for a horse !
Ay, there's the rub ! For-for-for-

Heaven soon granted what my sire denied, yon moon?” Her young Hopeful concluded ; most of the company expressed themselves perfectly satisfied, and even Doctor Tadpole was convinced that, in some cases, a single dose is one to many. “Master Flourish's memory, madam," quoth the doctor, “puts me in mind of an excellent story of a friend of mine, which is this: —My old friend, Admiral-Admiral—bless


soul ! Admiral—pshaw! I never can recollect his name, but that's of no consequence—he fought at the battle of of—dear me,

e--the victory of, ahem—off the island-off that long island—you know, near the Red Sea—not the Red Sea—the other sea just by—under LordLord, you all recollect who I mean very well ! Lord—married the daughter of an old gentlemen, who lived at--by the square there—the corner house, you remember —wore a brown wig, and used to sell—bless my soul ! how very remarkable that I should forget—used to sell those things that old ladies wear under their night-caps, you know. So you see, as I was telling you, this—pshaw !—I mean that—no that's not it. Now, just tall me where I was, will you ? only mention the last word. Oh, I recollect ! So then, General—General—ahem !—said it was very extraordinary-very extraordinary indeed ; and they were both good friends as long as they lived afterwards ;—and I never told the story to anybody, who didn't say it was the most interesting narrative that they ever heard in the whole course of their lives.

I will now introduce to my old friend, Manager Varnish, of strolling notoriety collecting a company of barn-door comedians to provincialize, alias to vagabond


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