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On this they both dismounted; and, some say,
Contrived to carry, like a truss of hay,

The ass between 'em; prints, they add, are seen
With man and lad, and slinging ass between ;
Others omit that fancy in the print,

As overstraining an ingenious hint.

The copy that we follow says, The man
Rubbed down the ass, and took to his first plan,
Walked to the fair, and sold him, got his price,
And gave his son this pertinent advice:
"Let talkers talk; stick thou to what is best;
"To think of pleasing all-is all a jest.”

DR. BYROM.

THE DOCTOR AND HIS APPRENTICE.

A PUPIL of the Æsculapian school

Was just prepared to quit his master's rule:
Not that he knew his trade, as it appears,
But that he then had learnt it seven years.

Yet think not that in knowledge he was cheated-
All that he had to study still,

Was, when a man was well or ill,
And how, if sick, he should be treated.

One morn, he thus address'd his master:

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"Dear Sir, my honour'd father bids me say,

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If I could now and then a visit pay,

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He thinks with you,

"To notice how you do,

My business I might learn a little faster."

"The thought is happy," the preceptor cries;

"A better method he could scarce devise ;

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So Bob, (his pupil's name) it shall be so,

"And when I next pay visits, you shall go."

To bring that hour, alas! time briskly fled:
With dire intent,

Away they went,

And now behold them at a patient's bed.

The master-doctor solemnly perused

His victim's face, and o'er his symptoms mused; Look'd wise, said nothing-an unerring way, When people nothing have to say:

Then felt his pulse and smelt his cane,

And paused, and blink'd, and smelt again,

And briefly of his corps performed each motion; Manœuvres that for Death's platoon are meant: A kind of a Make-ready and present!

Before the fell discharge of pill and potion.

At length the patient's wife he thus address'd:
"Madam, your husband's danger 's great,
"And (what will never his complaint abate)
"The man's been eating oysters, I perceive."
"Dear! you 're a witch, I verily believe,'
Madam replied, and to the truth confessed.

Skill so prodigious Bobby too admired,
And home returning of the sage inquired,
How these same oysters came into his head?
"Psha! my dear Bob, the thing was plain-
Sure that can ne'er distress thy brain,

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'I saw the shells lie underneath the bed."

So wise by such a lesson grown,

Next day Bob ventured forth alone,

And to the self-same sufferer paid his courtBut soon, with haste and wonder out of breath, Returned the stripling minister of Death,

And to his master made this dread report: Why, Sir, we ne'er can keep that patient under, "Zounds! such a maw I never came across! "The fellow must be dying, and no wonder, "For hang me if he hasn't eat a horse!"

"A horse!" the elder man of physic cried,
As if he meant his pupil to deride—
"How came so wild a notion in your head!"
How! think not in my duty I was idle,
"Like you, I took a peep beneath the bed,
And there I saw a saddle and a bridle."

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ANON.

THE FARMER AND THE COUNSELLOR.

(From "Gaieties and Gravities.")

A COUNSEL in the "Common Pleas,"
Who was esteemed a mighty wit,
Upon the strength of a chance hit,
Amid a thousand flippancies,
And his occasional bad jokes,

In bullying, bantering, browbeating,
Ridiculing, and maltreating
Women, or other timid folks;
In a late cause, resolved to hoax
A clownish, Yorkshire farmer—one
Who, by his uncouth look and gait,
Appeared expressly meant by fate
For being quizzed and played upon.

So having tipped the wink to those
In the back rows,

Who kept their laughter bottled down,
Until our wag should draw the cork-
He smiled jocosely on the clown,

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And went to work.

'Well, Farmer Numskull, how go calves at York?" 'Why—not, sir, as they do wi' you;

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"But on four legs instead of two:"

Officer!" cried the legal elf,

Piqued at the laugh against himself,

"Do pray keep silence down below there!
'Now look at me, clown, and attend,

Have I not seen you somewhere, friend?”
“Yees, very like, I often do go there."

"Our rustic waggish is, and quite laconic,"
(The counsel cried with grin sardonic,)

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I wish I had known this prodigy,
"This genius of the clods, when I
On circuit was at York residing.
Now, farmer, do for once speak true,
Mind, you're on oath, so tell me, you
"Who doubtless think yourself so clever,
Are there as many fools as ever
"In the West Riding?"

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"Why no, sir, no! we've got our share,
But not so many as when you were there."

HORACE SMITH.

THE FARMER'S WIFE, AND THE GASCON.

(From "Gaieties and Gravities.")

At Neufchâtel, in France, where they prepare
Cheeses that set us longing to be mites,
There dwelt a farmer's wife, famed for her rare
Skill in these small quadrangular delights.

Where they were made they sold for the immense
Price of three sous a piece;

But as salt water made their charms increase,
In England the fixed rate was eighteen pence.

This damsel had to help her in the farm,
To milk her cows and feed her hogs,
A Gascon peasant, with a sturdy arm
For digging or for carrying logs,
But in his noddle, weak as any baby,
In fact a gaby;

And such a glutton when you came to feed him, That Wantley's dragon, who ate barns and churches As if they were geese and turkeys,

(Vide the ballad), scarcely could exceed him.

One morn she had prepared a monstrous bowl
Of cream, like nectar,

And would'nt go to church (good careful soul!)
Till she had left it safe with a protector;

So she gave strict injunctions to the Gascon
To watch it while his mistress was to mass gone.
Watch it he did he never took his eyes off,
But lick'd his upper then his under lip,
And doubled up his fist to drive the flies off;
Begrudging them the smallest sip,
Which, if they got,

Like my Lord Salisbury, he heaved a sigh,
And cried, "O happy, happy fly,

How I do envy you your lot!"

Each moment did his appetite grow stronger;
His bowels yearned;

At length he could not bear it any longer,
But on all sides his looks he turned,

And finding that the coast was clear, he quaff'd
The whole up at a draught.

Scudding from church, the farmer's wife
Flew to the dairy;

But stood aghast, and could not for her life,
One sentence mutter,

Until she summoned breath enough to utter

"Holy St. Mary!"

And shortly, with a face of scarlet,

The vixen (for she was a vixen), flew

Upon the varlet,

Asking the when, and where, and how, and who,

Had gulped her cream, nor left an atom;
To which he gave not separate replies,
But with a look of excellent digestion

One answer made to every question;
"The flies!"

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