Poor Wommen as was born to Washing in their youth!
And now must go and Larn other Buisnesses Four Sooth!
But if so be They leave their Lines what are they to go at-
They won't do for Angell's-nor any Trade like That,
Nor we cant Sow Babby Work-for that's all Bespoke,-
For the Queakers in Bridle! and a vast of the confind Folk

50

Do their own of Themselves-even the bettermost of em-aye, and evn them of middling degrees

Why God help you Babby Linen ant Bread and Cheese!

Nor we can't go a hammering the roads into Dust,

But we must all go and be Bankers,-[like Mr. Marshes and Mr. Chamberses]1-and that's what we must!

God nose you oght to have more Concern for our Sects,

When you nose you have suck'd us and hanged round our Mutherly necks, 60 And remembers what you Owes to Wommen Besides washing

You ant, curse you, like Men to go a slushing and sloshing

In mob caps, and pattins, adoing of Females Labers

And prettily jear'd At you great Horse God Meril things, ant you now by you next door neighbours

Lawk I thinks I see you with your Sleaves tuckt up

No more like Washing than is drownding of a Pupp

And for all Your Fine Water Works going round and round,

They'll scruntch your Bones some day-I'll be bound,

And no more nor be a gudgement,—for it cant come to good

To sit up agin Providince, which your a doing,-nor not fit It should, 70 For man warnt maid for Wommens starvation,

Nor to do away Laundrisses as is Links of Creation

And cant be dun without in any Country But a [naked]1 Hottinpot Nation. Ah, I wish our Minister would take one of your Tubbs

And preach a Sermon in it, and give you some good rubs

But I warrants you reads (for you cant spel we nose) nayther Bybills or Good Tracks,

Or youd no better than Taking the close off one's Backs

And let your neighbours oxin and Asses alone,

And every Thing thats hern,—and give every one their Hone!

Well, its God for us All, and every Washer Wommen for herself,

And so you might, without shoving any on us off the shelf,

And pull of Your Pattins,-and leave the washing to we

But if you warnt Noddis youd Let wommen abe

That nose what's what-Or mark what I say,

Youl make a fine Kittle of fish of Your Close some Day

When the Aulder men wants Their Bibs, and their ant nun at all,
And Crist mass cum-and never a Cloth to lay in Gild Hall,

Or send a damp shirt to his Woship the Mare

Till hes rumatiz Poor Man, and cant set uprite in his Chare

80

Besides Miss-Matching Larned Ladys Hose, as is sent for you not to wash

(for you dont wash) but to stew

And make Peples Stockins yeller as oght to be Blew,

1 [Added in the second edition.]

90

With a vast more like That,—and all along of Steam,
Which warnt meand by Nater for any sich skeam—
But thats your Losses and youl have to make It Good,
And I cant say I'm Sorry afore God if you shoud,
For men mought Get their Bread a great many ways
Without taking ourn-aye, and Moor to your Prays

[You might go and skim the creme off Mr. Muck-Adams milky ways-that's what you might,

Or bete Carpets-or get into Parleamint,—or drive Crabrolays from morning to night,

Or, if you must be of our sects, be Watchmen, and slepe upon a poste! 100 (Which is an od way of sleping, I must say—and a very hard pillow at most,) Or you might be any trade, as we are not on that I'm awares,

Or be Watermen now, (not Water-wommen,) and roe peple up and down
Hungerford stares,

Or] If You Was even to Turn Dust Men a dry sifting Dirt!
But you oughtint to Hurt Them as never Did You no Hurt!
Yourn with Anymocity,
BRIDGET JONES.

ODE TO CAPTAIN PARRY

'By the North Pole, I do challenge thee!'-Love's Labour's Lost.

Still hast thou wasted toil and trouble
On nothing but the North-Sea Bubble

Of geographic scholar?
Or found new ways for ships to shape,
Instead of winding round the Cape,
A short cut thro' the collar!

'Tis well for Gheber souls that sit Before the fire and worship it

With pecks of Wallsend coals,
With feet upon the fender's front,
Roasting their corns-like Mr. Hunt-
To speculate on poles.

[The lines in brackets were added in the second edition.]
And waft a sigh from Indus to the Pole.'-Eloisa to Abelard.

ODE TO W. KITCHENER, M.D.

AUTHOR OF THE COOK'S ORACLE-OBSERVATIONS ON VOCAL MUSICTHE ART OF INVIGORATING AND PROLONGING LIFE-PRACTICAL OBSERVATIONS ON TELESCOPES, OPERA GLASSES, AND SPECTACLES -THE HOUSEKEEPER'S LEDGER-AND THE PLEASURE OF MAKING A WILL.

'I rule the roast, as Milton says!'—Caleb Quotem.

I

OH!2 multifarious man!

Thou Wondrous, Admirable Kitchen Crichton :
Born to enlighten

The laws of Optics, Peptics, Music, Cooking-
Master of the Piano-and the Pan-

As busy with the kitchen as the skies!

Now looking

At some rich stew thro' Galileo's eyes-
Or boiling eggs-timed to a metronome-
As much at home

In spectacles as in mere isinglass

1 Buffon. 2 [In first edition, 'Hail!']

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