I CANNOT BEAR A GUN. "Timidity is generally reckoned an essential attribute of the fair sex, and this absurd notion gives rise to more false starts, than a race for the Leger. Hence screams at mice, fits at spiders, faces at toads, jumps at lizards, flights from daddy longlegs, panics at wasps, sauve qai peut at sight of a gun. Surely, when the military exercise is made a branch of education at so many ladies' academies, the use of the musket would only be a judicious step further in the march of mind. I should not despair, in a month's practice, of making the most timid British female fond of small arms."-HINTS BY A CORPORAL. It can't be minced, I'm quite convinced, Are nothing else but sham. On all their tricks I need not fix, I'll only mention one, How many a Miss will tell you this, "I cannot bear a gun!" There's cousin Bell can't 'bide the smell Of powder-horrid stuff! A single pop will make her drop, My Manton near, with aspen fear About my flask I must not ask, I must not take a punch to make Or speak of number one, "I beg you'll not-don't talk of shot, Percussion cap I dare not snap, At Hawker's book I must not look, Or else "It's hard, you've no regard, The very dress I wear, no less A blue or black must clothe my back, Ev'n little James she snubs, and blames Two inches each from mouth to breech, His crackers stopped, his squibbing dropped, And all thro' her " How dare you, Sir? Yet Major Flint,-the Devil's in't! Of springing mines, and twelves and nines, Of voltigeurs and tirailleurs, And bullets by the ton: She never dies of fright, or cries It stirs my bile to see her smile And shots as good as his, I must not name the fallen game: She's in her pout, and crying out, Yet, underneath the rose, her teeth Are false, match her tongue : Grouse, partridge, hares, she never spares, On widgeon, teal, she makes a meal, At pigeon-pie she is not shy, Her taste it never shocks, Though they should be from Battersea, Like fool and dunce I got her once And by her side I felt a pride I ne'er shall feel again: To read the bill it made her ill, And this excuse she spun, "Der Freyschütz, O, seven shots! you know, I cannot bear a gun!" Yet at a hint from Major Flint, And quickly drest in all her best, And never winks, or even thinks, "I cannot bear a gun!" She thus may blind the Major's mind But let a bout at war break out, And where's the soldier's wife, Or will she cry, "My dear, good-by, If thus she dotes on army coats, The yeomanry might surely be Secure from her rebuffs; My carbine's gleam provokes a scream "I cannot bear a gun!" It can't be minced, I'm quite convinced, On all their tricks I need not fix, I'll only mention one, How many a Miss will tell you this, "I cannot bear a gun!" TRIMMER'S EXERCISE, FOR THE USE OF CHILDREN. HERE, come, Master Timothy Todd, Before we have done you'll look grimmer; You've been spelling some time for the rod, And your jacket shall know I'm a Trimmer. You don't know your A from your B, This morning you hindered the cook, But I'll have you to know I'm a Trimmer. To-day, too, you went to the pond, And bathed, though you are not a swimmer; And with parents so doting and fondBut I'll have you to know I'm a Trimmer. After dinner you went to the wine, And helped yourself—yes, to a brimmer; You couldn't walk straight in a line, But I'll make you to know I'm a Trimmer. You kick little Tomkins about, Because he is slighter and slimmer; Are the weak to be thumped by the stout? But I'll have you to know I'm a Trimmer. Then you have a sly pilfering trick, Your school-fellows call you the nimmer, I will cut to the bone if you kick! For I'll have you to know I'm a Trimmer. |