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I wonder what it is, now,
-I never felt so
BOATMAN. Bill, mind your luff - why Bill, I say, she's
yawing - keep her near!
Keep near! we're going further off ; the land's
behind our backs.
Ma'am, it 's all correct, that 's only 'cause we tacks : We shall have to beat about a bit,— Bill, keep her
out to sea.
Beat who about? keep who at sea ? - how black
they look at me!
It's veering round — I knew it would ! off with
her head ! stand by !
Off with her head! whose? where? what with ?
- an axe I seem to spy!
She can't not keep her own, you see; we shall
have to pull her in !
They'll drown me, and take all I have ! my life's
not worth a pin!
Look out you know, be ready, Bill — just when
she takes the sand !
The sand — O Lord ! to stop my mouth! how
every thing is planned !
The handspike, Bill — quick, bear a hand ! now
Ma'am, just step ashore !
What! ain't I going to be killed — and weltered in my gore
? Well, Heaven be praised ! but I'll not go a sailing
LITERARY AND LITERAL.
The March of Mind upon its mighty stilts,
up a thing our ancestors ne'er thought on,
A place whose native dialect, somehow,
Taken for grunted.
Conceive the snoring of a greedy swine,
have ever heard such creature dine And — for Hog's Norton, make a mix of both !.
O shades of Shakspeare! Chaucer! Spenser !
Milton! Pope! Gray! Warton ! O Colman! Kenny! Planche! Poole! Peake! Pocock! Reynolds ! Morton!
O Grey ! Peel! Sadler ! Wilberforce! Burdett!
Hume! Wilmot Horton !
Hog's Norton !
The founder of Hog's Norton Athenæum
Framed her society
With some variety
Had killed a porker.
It chanced one Friday, One Farmer Grayley stuck a very big hog, A perfect Gog or Magog of a pig-hog, Which made of course a literary high day, Not that our Farmer was a man to go With literary tastes so far from suiting 'em, When he heard mention of Professor Crowe, Or Lalla-Rookh, he always was for shooting 'em ! In fact in letters he was quite a log,
With him great Bacon
Was literally taken, And Hogg - the Poet - nothing but a Hog! As to all others on the list of Fame, Although they were discussed and mentioned
He only recognized one classic name, [Baillie ! And thought that she had hung herself — Miss
To balance this, our Farmer's only daughter
She got the bluer
Of learning's laurels Miss Joanna Baillie
“ LOVE LAYS AND LYRICS
A. P. I. G.”
Accordingly, with very great propriety,