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as I called for small beer, the master tipped the wink, and the servant brought me a* brimmer of October.*
6. Some time after dinner, I ordered my cousin's man, who came with me, to get ready the horses; but it was resolved I should not stir that night; and when I seemed pretty much bent upon going, they ordered the stable-door to be locked, and the children hid my cloak and boots. The next question was, what I would have for supper? I said I never eat anything at night; but was at last, in my own defense, obliged to name the first thing that came into my head.
7. After three hours spent chiefly in apologies for my entertainment, insinuating to me, "That this was the worst time of the year for provisions; that they were at a great distance from any market; that they were afraid I should be starved; and that they knew they kept me to my loss," the lady went and left me to her husband (for they took special care I should never be alone). As soon as her back was turned, the little misses ran backwards and forwards every moment; and constantly, as they came in or went out, made a courtesy directly at me, which in good manners I was forced to return with a bow, and, Your humble servant, pretty miss.
8. Exactly at eight, the mother came up, and discovered, by the redness of her face, that supper was not far off. It was twice as large as the dinner, and my persecution doubled in proportion. I 'desired at my us^al hour to go to my repose, and was conducted to my chamber by the gentleman, his lady, and the whole train of children.
9. They importuned me to drink something before I went to bed; and upon my refusing, at last left a bottle of stingo, as they called it, for fear I should wake and be thirsty in the night. I was forced in the morning to rise and dress myself in the dark, because they would not suffer my kinsman's servant to disturb me at the hour I desired to be called.
10. I was now resolved to break through all measures to get away; and after sitting down to a monstrous breakfast of cold beef, mutton, neats'-tongues, venison-pasty, and stale beer, took leave of the family. But the gentleman would needs see me part of my way, and carry me a short cut
» through his own grounds, which he told me would save half a mile's riding.
* By a figure of rhetoric, the cause is sometimes put for the effect, the container for the thing contained; as, when we say of an intemperate" man, "he is addicted to his cups," we mean the wine contained in the cup. So also, as wine is produced from grapes, the month in which the grape becomes ripe is used to signify the wine itself. October is here used for wine.
11. This last piece of civility had like to have cost me dear, being once of twice in danger of* my-neck, by leaping over his ditches, and at last forced to alight in the dirt; when my horse, having slipped his bridle, ran away, and took us up more than an hour to recover him again. It is evident that none of the absurdities I met with in this visit proceeded from an ill intention, but from a wrong judgment of complaisance, and a misapplication in the rules of it.
1. Within a thick and spreading hawthorn bush, That overhung a molehill large and round,
I heard, from morn to morn, a merry thrush,
2. And by and by, like heath-bells gilt with dew, There lay her shining eggs, as bright as flowers, Ink-spotted over, shells of green and 'blue;
And there I witnessed, in the summer hours,
The Newcastle Apothecary. — George Colman.
1. A Man in many a country town, we know, Professes openly with death to wrestle;
* Montgomery says quaintly, but truly, of this sonnet: "Here we have , in miniature the history and geography of a thrush's nest, so simply and naturally set forth that one might think such strains No more difficile Than for a blackbird't is to whistle. But let the heartless critic, who despises them, try his own hand either at a bird's nest or a sonnet like this; and when he has succeeded in making the one, he may have some hope of being able to make the other."
Entering the field against the grimly foe,
2. A member of this JEsculapian line
No man could better gild a pill,
Or mix a draught, or bleed, or blister;
3. His fame full six miles round the country ran , In short, in reputation he was solus:
All the old women called him " a fine man!"
4. Benjamin Bolus, though in trade
And cultivated the belles fettres*
And why should this be thought so odd?
Can't men have taste who cure a phthisic ? t
Of poetry though patron god,
Apollo patronizes physic.
Bolus loved verse, and took so much delight in't,
5. No opportunity he e'er let pass
6. He had a patient lying at death's door,
Some three miles from the town, — it might be four;
* Pronounced Btlla'tur; meaning polite literature. t Pronounced Tiz'zic.
To whom, one evening, Bolus sent an article
Which one would think was clear enough,
To be well shaken."
7. Next morning early, Bolus rose, And to the patient's "house he goes Upon his pad,
"Who a vile trick of stumbling had:
8. Knocks of this kind
Are given by gentlemen who teach to dance;
By fiddlers, and by opera-singers;
One loud, and then a little one behind, •
As if the knocker fell by chance
Out of their fingers.
9. The servant lets him in with dismal face,
John's countenance as rueful looked and grim,
10. "Well, how's the patient?" Bolus said; John shook his head.
"Indeed ! — hum! ha ! — that's very odd!
He took the draught?" John gave a nod.
"Well, how? what then? speak out, you dunce !" —
"Why, then," says'John, " we shook him once." —
"Shook him ! — how?" Bolus stammered out. —
"We jolted him about."—
11. "Zounds! shake a patient, man!—a shake won't do. "No, sir, and so we gave him two." —
"Two shakes! od's curse!
'T would make the patient worse." —
"It did so, sir, and so a third we tried." —
"Well, and what then ?" — " Then, sir, my master died."
/ 1. To him who, in the love of Nature, holds
2. When thoughts
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight
Over thy spirit, and sad images
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,
Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart, —
Go forth under the open sky, and list
To Nature's teachings, while from all around —
Earth and her waters, and the depths of air —
Comes a stift voice : —
3. Yet a few days, and thee
The all-beholding sun shall see no more,
4. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim
To mix forever with the elements, —
To be a brother to the insensible rock,
And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain
Turns with his share, and treads upon.
5. The oak
Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mold.
* A view of death.