shifts

With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part: the sixth age
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon;
With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound: last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness, and mere oblivion;
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

SHAKSPEARE

THE THREE BLACK CROWS.

Two honest tradesmen meeting in the Strand,
One took the other briskly by the hand:
"Hark ye," said he, "'t is an odd story this,
About the crows!"- "I don't know what it is,"
Replied his friend."No? I'm surprised at that;
Where I come from, it is the common chat:
But you shall hear an odd affair indeed!
And that it happened, they are all agreed:
Not to detain you from a thing so strange,
A gentleman, that lives not far from 'Change,
This week, in short, as all the alley knows,
Taking a puke, has thrown up three black crows."
Impossible!"-"Nay, but it's really true;

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I had it from good hands, and so may you."

From whose, I pray?" So having named the man, Straight to inquire his curious comrade ran.

'Sir, did you tell"-relating the affair

"Yes, sir, I did; and if it's worth your care,

Ask Mr. Such-a-one; he told it me;

But, by the by, 't was two black crows, not three."
Resolved to trace so wondrous an event,

Whip to the third the virtuoso went.

"Sir," and so forth

Why, yes; the thing is fact,

Though in regard to number not exact;
It was not two black crows; 't was only one;
The truth of that you may depend upon :

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Why,—in such a place.”

The gentleman himself told me the case." "Where I find him?" may Away he goes, and having found him out, "Sir, be so good as to resolve a doubt.” Then to his last informant he referred, And begged to know if true what he had heard. "Did you, sir, throw up a black crow?" "Bless me! how people propagate a lie! Black crows have been thrown up, three, two, and one, And here I find at last all comes to none ! Did you say nothing of a crow at all?

"Crow

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'Not I!"

crow - perhaps I might, now I recall The matter over." "And pray, sir, what was 't?" 'Why, I was horrid sick, and, at the last, I did throw up, and told my neighbor so, Something that was as black, sir, as a crow."

BYROM

THE GOUTY MERCHANT AND THE STRANGER.

IN Broad-street buildings, (on a winter night,)
Snug by his parlor fire, a gouty wight

Sat all alone, with one hand rubbing

His feet, rolled up in fleecy hose;

With t' other he 'd beneath his nose

The Public Leger, in whose columns grubbing
He noted all the sales of hops,

Ships, shops, and slops,

Gums, galls, and groceries, ginger, gin,
Tar, tallow, turmeric, turpentine, and tin;

When, lo! a decent personage in black

Entered, and most politely said

"Your footman, sir, has gone his nightly track To the King's Head,

And left your door ajar, which I

Observed in passing by;

And thought it neighborly to give you notice."

Ten thousand thanks

In time of danger

how very few get

Such kind attentions from a stranger!
Assuredly that fellow's throat is
Doomed to a final drop at Newgate:
He knows, too, (the unconscious elf,)

That there's no soul at home except myself."
"Indeed! replied the stranger," looking grave,
"Then he's a double knave:

He knows that rogues and thieves by scores
Nightly beset unguarded doors:

And see, how easily might one
Of these domestic foes,

Even beneath your very nose,
Perform his knavish tricks;

Enter your room, as I have done,

Blow out your candles—thus-and thus, Pocket your silver candlesticks,

And walk off — thus!"

So said so done- he made no more remark,

Nor waited for replies,

But marched off with his prize.

Leaving the gouty merchant in the dark.

ANONYMOUS.

MISCONCEPTION.

ERE night her sable curtains spread;
Ere Phoebus had retired to bed
In Thetis' lap;

Ere drowsy watchmen yet had ta'en
Their early nap, ·

A wight, by hungry fiend made bold,
To farmer Fitz-Maurice's fold
Did slily creep,

Where numerous flocks were quiet laid
In the arms of sleep.

No doubt the sheep he meant to steal;
But, hapless, close behind his heel
Was plowman Joe,
Who just arrived in time to stop
The murderous blow.

May ill luck on ill actions wait!
The felon must to justice straight
Be dragged by force;

Where prosecutors urge his guilt,
Without remorse.

With fear o'erwhelmed, the victim stands,
Anticipates the dread commands

From the elbow chair,

Where justice sits in solemn state,

With brow austere.

Rogue! what excuse hast thou for this?
For to old Gilbert Fitz-Maurice,

Thou knew'st full well,

The sheep within that fold belonged-
Come, quickly tell.

Confess thy crime; 't will naught avail
To say, the mark above the tail

Thou didst not heed;

For G. F. M., in letters large,

Thou plain might'st read."

"T is true, I did," the thief replies;
"But man is not at all times wise;
As I'm a glutton,

I really thought that G. F. M.

Meant

Good, Fat, Mutton!”

ANONYMOUS.

THE APPLE-DUMPLINGS AND GEORGE III.

ONCE in the chase, this monarch drooping,
From his high consequence and wisdom stooping,
Entered, through curiosity, a cot,

Where an old crone was hanging on the pot;
The wrinkled, blear-eyed, good old granny,
In this same cot, illumed by many a cranny,
Had apple-dumplings ready for the pot;
In tempting row the naked dumplings lay,
When lo! the monarch, in his usual way,

Like lightning asked, "What's here? what's here? what? what? what? what?"

Then taking up a dumpling in his hand,

His eyes with admiration did expand

And oft did majesty the dumpling grapple :

"'Tis monstrous, monstrous, monstrous hard," he cried; "What makes the thing so hard?" The dame replied,

Low courtesying, "Please your majesty, the apple." "Very astonishing indeed! strange thing!" (Turning the dumpling round) rejoined the king, "T is most extraordinary now, all this is

It beats the conjurer's capers all to pieces
Strange I should never of a dumpling dream,-
But Goody, tell me, where, where, where 's the seam ?"
"Sire, there's no seam," quoth she, "I never knew
That folks did apple-dumplings sew!".

"No?" cried the staring monarch with a grin,
"Then, where, where, where, pray, got the apple in ?"

WOLCOTT.

THE DIRECTING POST.

In winter, once, an honest traveling wight
Pursued his road to Derby, late at night;
'T was very cold, the wind was bleak and high,
And not a house nor living thing was nigh;
At length he came to where some four roads met,
(It rained too, and he was completely wet,)
And being doubtful which way he should take,
He drew up to the finger-post to make

It out and after much of poring, fumbling,
Some angry oaths, and a great deal of grumbling,
'T was thus the words he traced
"To Derby-five;"
"A goodly distance yet, as I'm alive!"
But on he drove a weary length of way,
And wished his journey he 'd delayed till day:
He wondered that no town appeared in view,
(The wind blew stronger, it rained faster too,)
When to his great relief he met a man:
"I say, good friend, pray tell me, if you can,
How far is 't hence to Derby?" Derby, hey!

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Why zur, thee be'est completely come astray;

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This y'ant the road." Why zounds the guide-post showed 'To Derby, five' - and pointed down this road !"

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Ay, dang it, that may be, for you maun know,

The post it war blown down last night, and so

This morn I put it up again, but whether (As I can't put great A and B together)

The post is right, I'm zure I cannot zay

The town is just five miles the other way."

ANONYMOUS.