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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,

So backward you are in your Primer: Don't kneel — you shall go on my knee,

For I'll have you to know I'm a Trimmer.

This morning you hindered the cook,

By melting your dumps in the skimmer; Instead of attending your book,

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 fond —

But 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.

To-day you made game at my back :

You think that my eyes are grown dimmer, But I watched you, I've got a sly knack !

And I'll have you to know I'm a Trimmer.

Don't think that my temper is hot,

It 's never beyond a slow simmer;
I'll teach you to call me Dame Trot,

But I'll have you to know I'm a Trimmer,

Miss Edgeworth, or Mrs. Chapone,

Might melt to behold your tears glimmer ; Mrs. Barbauld would let you alone,

But I'll have you to know I'm a Trimmer.

THE FOX AND THE HEN.

A FABLE.

Speaking within compass, as to fabulousness I prefer Southcote to Northcote.

PIGROGROMITUS.

One day, or night, no matter where or when,

Sly Reynard, like a footpad, laid his pad Right on the body of a speckled Hen, Determined upon taking all she had ;

And like a very bibber at his bottle,

Began to draw the claret from her throttle ; Of course it put her in a pretty pucker, And with a scream as high

As she could cry, She called for help — she had enough of sucker.

Dame Partlet's scream Waked, luckily, the house-dog from his dream,

And, with a savage growl

In answer to the fowl,
He bounded forth against the prowling sinner,
And, uninvited, came to the Fox Dinner.
Sly Reynard, heedful of the coming doom,
. Thought, self-deceived,

He should not be perceived,
Hiding his brush within a neighbouring broom ;

But quite unconscious of a Poacher's snare,

And caught in copper noose,

And looking like a goose, Found that his fate had “ hung upon a hare ;. His tricks and turns were rendered of no use to

him.
And, worst of all, he saw old surly Tray

Coming to play
Tray-Deuce with him.

Tray, an old Mastiff bred at Dunstable,
Under his Master, a most special constable,
Instead of killing Reynard in a fury,
Seized him for legal trial by a Jury;
But Juries — Æsop was a sheriff then -
Consisted of twelve Brutes and not of Men.

But first the Elephant sat on the body —
I mean the Hen — and proved that she was dead,

To the veriest fool's head

Of the Booby and the Noddy.
Accordingly, the Stork brought in a bill

Quite true enough to kill ;
And then the Owl was called — for mark,
The Owl can witness in the dark.
To make the evidence more plain,
The Lynx connected all the chain.

In short there was no quirk or quibble
At which a legal Rat could nibble ;

The Culprit was as far beyond hope's bounds,
As if the Jury had been packed of hounds.
Reynard, however, at the utmost nick,
Is seldom quite devoid of shift and trick;

Accordingly our cunning Fox,
Through certain influence, obscurely channelled,
A friendly Camel got into the box,
When 'gainst his life the Jury was impanelled.

Now, in the Silly Isles such is the law,

If Jurors should withdraw,
They are to have no eating and no drinking,
Till all are starved into one way of thinking.

Thus Reynard's Jurors, who could not agree, Were locked up strictly, without bit or mummock, Till every Beast that only had one stomach, Bent to the Camel, who was blest with three. To do them justice, they debated From four till ten, while dinner waited, When thirst and hunger got the upper, And each inclined to mercy, and hot supper : “ Not guilty” was the word, and Master Fox Was freed to murder other hens and cocks.

MORAL.
What moral greets us by this tale's assistance

But that the Solon is a sorry Solon,
Who makes the full stop of a Man's existence

Depend upon a Colon ?

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