296

sir," exclaimed Mrs. L., and physically, not arithmetically,
"Moreover, what I
casting up all her hands and eyes.
mean to say, is this; and I only say that to save trouble.
There's a young man lodges at the Green Grocer's over the
way, who has writ an account of the village already to your
hand. The people about the place call him the Poet, but,
anyhow, he studies a good deal, and writes beautiful; and,
as I said before, has made the whole village out of his own
head. Now, it might save trouble, sir, if you was to write
it out, and I am sure I have a copy, that, as far as the loan
goes, is at your service, sir." My curiosity induced me to
take the offer; and as the poem really forestalled what I
had to say of the Hamlet, I took my landlady's advice and
transcribed it—and here it is:

OUR VILLAGE.-BY A VILLAGER.

OUR village, that's to say not Miss Mitford's village, but
our village of Bullock Smithy,

Is come into by an avenue of trees, three oak pollards, two
elders, and a withy;

And in the middle, there's a green of about not exceeding an acre and a half;

It's common to all, and fed off by nineteen cows, six ponies,
three horses, five asses, two foals, seven pigs, and a calf!
Besides a pond in the middle, as is held by a similar sort of
common law lease,

And contains twenty ducks, six drakes, three ganders, two
dead dogs, four drowned kittens, and twelve geese.
Of course the green's cropt very close, and does famous for
bowling when the little village-boys play at cricket;
Only some horse, or pig, or cow, or great jackass, is sure
to come and stand right before the wicket.

There's fifty-five private houses, let alone barns and workshops, and pig-styes, and poultry-huts, and such like sheds ; With plenty of public houses-two Foxes, one Green Man,

three Bunch of Grapes, one Crown, and six King's Heads. The Green Man is reckoned the best, as the only one that for love or money can raise

A postilion, a blue jacket, two deplorable lame white horses, and a ramshackled "neat post-chaise."

There's one parish-church for all the people, whatsoever may be their ranks in life or their degrees,

Except one very damp, small, dark, freezing-cold, little Methodist chapel of Ease;

And close by the church-yard, there's a stone-mason's yard, that when the time is seasonable

Will furnish with afflictions sore and marble urns and cherubims very low and reasonable.

There's a cage, comfortable enough; I've been in it with Old Jack Jeffrey and Tom Pike;

For the Green Man next door will send you in ale, gin, or any thing else you like.

I can't speak of the stocks, as nothing remains of them but the upright post;

But the pound is kept in repairs for the sake of Cob's horse, as is always there almost.

There's a smithy of course, where that queer sort of a chap in his way, Old Joe Bradley,

Perpetually hammers and stammers, for he stutters and shoes horses very badly.

There's a shop of all sorts, that sells every thing, kept by the widow of Mr. Task;

But when you go there, it's ten to one she's out of every thing you ask.

13*

298

You'll know her house by the swarm of boys, like flies, about the old sugary cask:

There are six empty houses, and not so well papered inside

as out,

For bill-stickers won't beware, but sticks notices of sales and election placards all about.

That's the Doctor's with a green door, where the garden
pots in the windows is seen;

A weakly monthly rose that don't blow, and a dead geranium,
and a tea-plant with five black leaves and one green.
As for hollyhocks at the cottage-doors, and honeysuckles
and jasmines, you may go and whistle;

But the tailor's front garden grow two cabbages, a dock, a
ha'porth of pennyroyal, two dandelions, and a thistle.
There are three small orchards-Mr. Busby's the school-
master's is the chief-

With two pear-trees that don't bear; one plum and an apple,
that every year is stripped by a thief.

There's another small day-school too, kept by the respectable
Mrs. Gaby;

A select establishment, for six little boys and one big, and
four little girls and a baby.

There's a rectory, with pointed gables and strange odd chimneys that never smokes,

For the rector don't live on his living like other Christian sort of folks ;

There's a barber's, once a-week well filled with rough black-bearded, shock-headed churls,

And a window with two feminine men's heads, and two masculine ladies in false curls;

There's a butcher's, and a carpenter's, and a plumber's, and a small green-grocer's, and a baker,

But he won't bake on a Sunday, and there's a sexton that's a coal-merchant besides, and an undertaker;

And a toy-shop, but not a whole one, for a village can't

compare with the London shops;

One window sells drums, dolls, kites, carts, batts, Clout's balls, and the other sells malt and hops.

And Mrs. Brown, in domestic economy not to be a bit behind her betters,

Lets her house to a milliner, a watchmaker, a rat-catcher, a cobler, lives in it herself, and it's the post office for letters. Now I've gone through all the village-ay, from end to end, save and except one more house,

But I haven't come to that—and I hope I never shall—and that's the Village Poor-House!

A VALENTINE.

THE WEATHER. To P. MURPHY, ESQ., M.N.S.

These, properly speaking, being esteemed the three arms of Meteoric action.

DEAR Murphy, to improve her charms,

Your servant humbly begs;

She thanks you for her leash of arms,
But wants a brace of legs.

Moreover, as you promise folks,
On certain days a drizzle;
She thinks, in case she cannot rain,

She should have means to mizzle.

Some lightning too may just fall due,
When woods begin to moult;
And if she cannot "fork it out,"

She'll wish to make a bolt!

TO FANNY.

"Gay being, born to flutter !"-SALE'S GLEE,

Is this your faith, then, Fanny?
What, to chat with every Dun!
I'm the one, then, but of many,
Not of many, but the One!

Last night you smiled on all, Ma'am,
That appeared in scarlet dress;
And your Regimental Ball, Ma'am,
Looked a little like a Mess.

I thought that of the Sogers

(As the Scotch say) one might do, And that I, slight Ensign Rogers, Was the chosen man and true.

But 'Sblood! your eye was busy
With that ragamuffin mob;-
Colonel Buddell-Colonel Dizzy-
And Lieutenant-Colonel Cobb.

General Joblin, General Jodkin,
Colonels-Kelly, Felly, with
Majors Sturgeon, Truffle, Bodkin,
And the Quarter-master Smith.

Major Powderum-Major Dowdrum— Major Chowdrum-Major ByeCaptain Tawney-Captain Fawney, Captain Any-one-but I !