expect to contain interesting books, or dainties, sent for your comfort by some kind friend; and, on eagerly opening it, finding only a myriad of fresh phials, and packets of medicines→→→ and this, too, when you thought you had done with the doctor. 10. (S.)

Waiting for the operation of an emetic.

...............

Tes. Waiting for it?-pho, pho!-the operation itself is quite bad enough for me to sit by the hour, groaning and hoping that each pull will be the last: "expectat dum deflaut amnis ; at ille

Labitur et Labetur !"

"again!

A louder yet, and yet a louder strain !"

And so you go on, as long as you can answer the draughts of the confounded chamomile-till at last you fail, by being overdrawn ;-Waiting for it, indeed! 11. (T.)

"Pravo vivere naso;" i. e. A deep notch cut by an East wind under each nostril, and which you tear open afresh every time you blow your nose.

Also (and this is a pleasure I have soon to expect)

12. (T.)

The state of your mouth at the winding up of a tremendous cold-your lips being metamorphosed into two boiling barrels, totally disqualified for the functions of eating, speaking, laughing, gaping, whistling, and-kissing.

Sen. Nay, as to your last article, when I am in this vile condition, I let the ladies know nothing of the matter

"Necedum illis labra admoveo, sed condita servo."

13. (T.)

Suddenly and violently scratching your ear, without recolrecting to respect the feelings of an excruciating pimple, with which it is infested.

Sen. Yes, the "vellit aurem," without the "admonuit," is a sad mistake, indeed!

See here! I have treasured all the fragments, along with these pretty pieces of wreck from the jaw, which bore them company-that they might serve as mementos, in case I should ever find myself in the humour of parting with any more of my head!

15. (T)

Battering your own knuckles, or jarring the touchy part of your elbow, against the edge of the table, as if with a hearty good will.

16. (T.)

Having some cutaneous complaint, of which the principal feature is a furious and constant itching-yet being rigidly interdicted the use of your nails.

17. (T.)

After having, with great labour, succeeded in dragging on a new and very tight boot-receiving strong and incessant hints

૧

from a hornet at the bottom, that he does not like his confinement: no boot jack at hand to second your anxiety to relieve him, and the poor prisoner still jerking away!

18. (S.)

The face or hands suddenly and unaccountably begrimed with that mysterious sort of filth, which, as soon as you have, with great difficulty, scoured it away, returns again and again more liberally than ever.

19. (S.)

Your real sensations, during the pretended indifference with which you sit to be tickled, by a celebrated tickler, in the most sensitive parts of the body.

20. (S.)

On standing up, and stretching yourself, after sitting long over books or papers-the sudden rush of blood to the head, and consequent giddiness and staggering, with which you are punished for your sober excess.

21. (S)

The ends of your finger nails becoming rough and ragged, so as to catch, and pull away, the wool, or threads, of worsted, cotton, &c.

22. (S.)

After long reclining, with every limb disposed in some peculiarly luxurious manner-to be suddenly routed from your lounge! then, endeavouring in vain to re-establish yourself in your former posture, of which you have forgotten the particuJars, though you recollect the enjoyment-every new attempt leaving a certain void in your comfort, which nothing can supply:

"in ev'ry varied posture,

How widow'd every thought of every joy !"

23. (S.)

Young.

Trying in vain to tamper with an approaching fit of the eramp, by stretching out your limbs, and lying as still as a mouse.

24. (S.)

In sickness--the tender persecution you undergo from your female friends, while, after a restless night, you are beginning, towards the evening of the following day, to drop into a delicious doze in your chair; but which they will, on no account, suffer you to enjoy, settling it with each other that you are to be carefully shaken, and well tormented, every half minuteone crying" Don't go to sleep!"—another, you had better go to bed!"-a third, "you'll certainly take cold!"-a fourth, "you'll spoil your rest at night," &c. &c.

Ned Tes.

"alterius sic

Altera poscit opem, et conjurat amicè."

25. (T.)

Hor.

Labouring in vain to disentangle your medicine scales; till, after fretting, twisting, and twirling, for half the morning, to no purpose, you are, at last, obliged to weigh your dose (Tartar Emetic, or James' Powders,) as you can, with all the strings in a Gordian knot-one scale topsyturvy, and the other turvytopsy, &c.

Sen. Yes; and this when,

"If thou tak'st more or less, be it but so much

As makes it light, or heavy, in the substance,

Or the division, of the twentieth part

Of one poor scruple-nay, if the scale turn
But in the estimation of a hair,

Thou diest!"

26. (S.)

Merch. of Ven.

The interval between the dentist's confession that your tooth will be very difficult to draw, and the commencement of the attempt.

27. (T.)

Groping and stirring with a needle after a thorn in your

finger, in hopes of wheedling out the peeping black atom; which, however, proves too cunning at last, for you, and your needle to help you.

28. (S.)

In a fireside circle-sitting with your head close to a gaping crauny, which keeps up a steady whisper full in your ear, the whole evening long; a whisper, however, from which you, at least, learn something-the nature of the ear ach!

29. (S.)

Rashly confessing that you have a slight cold, in the hearing of certain elderly ladies of the faculty, who instantly form themselves into a consultation upon your case, and assail you with a volley of nostrums, all of which, if you would have a moment's peace, you must solemnly promise to take off before nightthough well satisfied that they would retaliate, by taking you off before morning!

30. (T.)

When in the gout-receiving the ruinous salutation of a muscular friend (a sea captain) who, seizing your hand in the first transports of a sudden meeting, affectionately crumbles your chalky knuckles with the gripe of a grappling iron; and then, further confirms his regard for you, by greeting your tenderest toe with the stamp of a charger.

Sen. O, the ruthless ruffian!

Tes. Ruthless! Mr. Sensitive, I actually went mad on the spot with pain and rage.

Sen. And, in your raving fit, you did not exclaim, I dare say,

recepto

Dulce mihi furere est amico!"

Hor.

Tes. No, you may venture to think not; I left that quotation for my friend, who, to do him justice,