MRS. F. Wind fresh, indecd, I never felt the air so full of salt! BOATMAN. That schooner, Bill, harn't left the roads, with oranges and nuts! MRS. F. If seas have roads, they're very rough-I never felt such ruts! BOATMAN. Its neap, ye see, she's heavy lade, and couldn't pass the bar. MRS. F. The bar! what, roads with turnpikes too? I wonder where they are! BOATMAN. Ho! brig ahoy! hard up! hard up! that lubber cannot steer! MRS. F. Yes, yes,-hard up upon a rock! I know some danger's near! Lord, there's a wave! it's coming in! and roaring like a bull! BOATMAN. Nothing, Ma'am, but a little slop! go large, Bill! keep her full! MRS. F. What, keep her full! what daring work! when full, she must go down! BOATMAN. Why, Bill, it lulls! ease off a bit -it's coming off the town! MRS. F. Be steady-well, I hope they can! but they've got a pint of drink! BOATMAN. Bill, give that sheet another haul-she'll fetch it up this reach. MRS. F. I'm getting rather pale, I know, and they see it by that speech! I wonder what it is, now, but I never felt so queer! BOATMAN. Bill, mind your luff-why Bill, I say, she's yawing-keep her near! MRS. F. Keep near! we're going further off; the land's behind our backs. BOATMAN. Be easy, Ma'am, it's all correct, that's only 'cause we tacks: MRS. F. Beat who about? keep who at sea?—how black they look at me! BOATMAN. It's veering round-I knew it would! off with her head! stand by! MRS. F. Off with her head! whose? where? what with ?-an axe I seem to She can't not keep her own, you see; we shall have to pull her in! MRS. F. They'll drown me, and take all I have! my life's not worth a pin! BOATMAN. Look out you know, be ready, Bill-just when she takes the sand! MRS. F. The sand-O Lord! to stop my mouth! how every thing is plann'd! BOATMAN. The handspike, Bill-quick, bear a hand! now Ma'am, just step ashore! MRS. F. What! an't I going to be kill'd—and welter'd in my gore? I really think our City Lords I've stood here since King Charles's time, MAGOG. I vow I can no longer stay; GOG. My hunger would provoke a saint, I've waited till I'm sick and faint; I'll tell you what, they'll starve us both, MAGOG. I wish I had a round of beef My hungry tooth to charm; GOG. And yet they feast beneath our eyes This very week I saw the Mayor MAGOG. Such loads of fish, and flesh, and fowl, To think upon it makes me growl! GOG. I wonder where the fools were taught, That they should keep a giant short! They'll stop our growth, they'll stop our growth; They'll starve us both, they'll starve us both! MAGOG. They said, a hundred years ago, GOG. I do not want it done at all, MAGOG. Of starving weavers they discuss, GOG. Oh dear, the pang it is to feel MAGOG. I'll tell you what, they'll stop our growth! GOG. I'll tell you what, they'll starve us both! вотн. They'll stop our growth, they'll starve us both! THE SWEEP'S COMPLAINT. "I like to meet a sweep-such as come forth with the dawn, or somewhat earlier, with their little professional notes, sounding like the peep, peep of a young sparrow."-ESSAYS OF ELIA. "A voice cried Sweep no more! Macbeth hath murdered sweep."-SHAKSPEARE. NE morning ere my usual time I rose, about the seventh chime, When little stunted boys that climb And as I walked, I saw indeed In height about five feet. A mongrel tint he seem'd to take, DAY through his MARTIN 'gan to break, Quite overcoming jet. From side to side he cross'd oblique, Like Frenchman who has friends to seek, And while he sought the dingy job, His lab'ring breast appear'd to throb Betray'd internal woe. To cry the cry he had by rote He yearn'd, but law forbade the note, I watch'd him, and the glimpse I snatch'd With red, as if the soot had catch'd That hung about the lid; And soon I saw the tear-drop stray, Thought I the cause he will betray And thus at last he did. Well, here's a pretty go! here's a Gagging Act, if ever there was a gagging! |