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My master has sent for the doctor, who, and I and the post, is no better than an I was in the workshop last night, where—'
"Where, no doubt, you saw a great deal," facetiously interrupted the Axe.
old file !'
The Saw showed his teeth in a sort of grin betwixt melancholy and mirth, and resumed,
Why, I may say so with some truth; and I consider it no more than a duty I owe Mr. Carpenter to do as much as I can, in spite of my teeth, for he is really liberal-in point of board."
"And, do you never grow rusty ?" asked the Axe. "Not with over work," replied the Saw; "and, indeed, I have always found that constant employment best preserves our polish; which, after all, is only artificial."
"You are quite a philosopher."
"Not exactly so; for I sometimes do grow exceedingly hot, and lose my temper."
"And what says your master?"
"Why, he generously desists awhile, and I soon grow cool again, and then I cut away like a razor through a piece of mottled soap!
"You are a happy fellow," said the Axe. "How differently am I situated! My master is a chopping boy,' with a thick block, which is tantamount to saying he is a fat fool. He is very sharp with me sometimes; and when he finds I am inclined to be blunt, he grinds me most cruelly."
"Alas!" cried the Saw; "it's the way of the world, my friend; for I have invariably remarked, that
the rich always grind the poor for the sake of the
"Bravo!" exclaimed the Axe.
"You see I've not lived in the world all this time without getting a notch or two," said the Saw.
"Nor I either," replied the Axe; "although, in obtaining the said notches, I have not only lost my courage, but a portion of my metal too!"
Well, I never saw ! exclaimed his friend; "how you talk! I am sure your teeth do not give you any trouble, at any rate.”
"I ax your pardon, old boy," remonstrated the Axe; "for, although I do not complain of my teeth exactly, my chops give me a pretty considerable deal of trouble, I can tell you."
The Saw grinned an approval of the Axe's wit. "Peace!" exclaimed the Axe. "Here comes Mr. Carpenter; so don't show your teeth, till you can bite,'-I believe that is the maxim of a relation of yours?"
"Not a relation," said the other; 66 are the words of a wise old saw!"
EVERY MAN HIS OWN COOK.
OH! Molly, there are very few
Why I shall feel
Just like an eel
Cut up and in a stew !
And you a tartar.
Relent, dear Molly, or you'll make
Your love a martyr,
And bring him to the stake!
Then love me, dearest Doll, and I Will make you mine, and mother of our fry!
THE RAT'S LAMENTATION.
O cruel trap! O sad mishap!
'Twas love of cheese deluded her,
But though a bait has caught my spouse,
Against the cruel bars I rail,
So kind she was, I never felt
O! may her present case n'er fall
To either darling's share!
Fast flies the night, like one in flight
And morning breaks, and breaks my heartThe light brings heavy woe.
The cruel cook, who set the trap,
Will soon be up and down;
And when she sees my love, will seize
And plunge her in a pail, perhaps ;
Farewell! dear partner of my toils,
DICK AND TOM.
O Thomas, dear Thomas, I think
O no!--you're mistaken, d'ye see,
Your poor wife was frighten'd to death, And vented her sighs with her breath.
Poor soul!-she must still wait a bit