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Vhat, sair? Your crown-piece! Vhat? Why, your skull-cap, castor, felt, beaver. Sair, I'm sorry I cannot comprehend you. Lord! how ignorant those here Frenchmen are ! My da'ter is just come from boarding-school; parley woo, Polley to the Frenchman. Oui, Mousear, voulezvous otter; that is to say, take off your chapeau. Aye, Mouseer, take the chopper off your block. My vhat block, sair? Why, your hat. Oh! oui, certainement. Curse me! my da'ter knows more French than the Frenchman, a'ter all. Curse the artichoke, I say, who built these seats why, there's no room to put one's knees. So it seems, sir, for you are putting them all in my back. Only your back, then say they don't affront you. Fine fruit, or a bill of the play; do you want some good porter, sir? I wish some porter would take you off. Do you? then I'll be off with the porter, sir. Bless me! the heat is very oppressive! I can hardly bear it, I fancy it is the gas. Pho! the gas makes it lighter.

Hey down, ho down,

Derry derry down.

Whilst waiting for the play to begin, O!

(ENCORE DIALOGUE.)

Halloo! there's a hubabubboo in the lower regions. Oh, mamma, I'm squeedged up just like nothing. Why do you squeeze the child so, you brute. (Stuttering.) Why-why h-how ca-ca can I he-help it, don't every body squee-ese me? Don't you make mouths at my wife, sir, or I'll shave your beard for you directly. I wish, mamma, you had brought the broomstick which you waps father with, you'd have made him feel, I know. Hold your tongue, you rascal, and leave the broom-stick at home, you rogue. So it is, pa; it hangs up behind the door, I know. Hold your tongue, I say, and look at the pretty ladies in the boxes. Oh! how pretty! they look like the heads in our shop-window, with the wigs on. Hush, my dear, drop the shop and the wigs, La, papa, are those young ladies in the top boxes going to bed? Why, my dear? Because, pa, they look half undressed. Half undressed my dear, that's what they call being full dressed. Full dressed, papa, then I should like to know what they call being half full dressed. Hush, my dear, and look at the stage. What stage, papa? The acting stage, my dear. The Acton stage, I don't see the horses. No, nor any thing else, if that French lady keeps on her stupendous bonnet: it is like my old gig turned upside down, with wheels for bows. Ma'am, I'll trouble you to take off your bonnet. Sair, je suis surprise; dat is to say, sair, I am quite tunderstructed of dat

which you say to me! sair, I never do undress myself for no gentleman; and for you me to ask dat, you are good for nothing at all, you are; you are barbare. How did she find that out. A barber, ma'am ! and what's that to you if my husband is a barber, ma'am; he can shave as well as any Frenchman, ma'am, and only charges three half-pence, ma'am. Silence ! down! Hey down, ho down, &c.

Now the solid and the gay
Pay attention to the play;
Tragedian plays his part,

With tear, and rant, and start,
P'rhaps in his tragic rage,

A dog runs across the stage,

Which turns the people's tears into smiles, O!

Or th' heroes of the sock,

Now human nature mock,

With lively jest and mien,
Would drive away the spleen;
Then harlequin and clown,

E'er tumbling up and down,

Please the old and the young with their wiles, O!
Here's the place-for grimace,

Orange-peel-makes one feel,

Blooming misses-groans and hisses,
Starts and pauses--great applauses,

Tragic braggers-wooden daggers,

Mournful dizen-cups of poison,

Shrieks and sobbing-ghosts and robbing,
Comedy's sons-jests and puns,
Swagg'ring blades-saucy maids,
Dramas, farces-horses, asses,
Pantomime-suits each clime,
Tricks and scenes-magic means,
Leaping, tumbling-no grumbling,
All laughing-no scoffing.

Spoken.] (foppishly.) My dear fellow, how do you like that performer with the long sword? Why I don't know, there is a sort of a something, that is a-a kind of-I would say a-a je ne scai quoi,-that is to say,-in fact, you understand me. Aye, you would say, he is only fit to play the walking gentleman. No, my dear fellow, I would say a walking-stick; does the simile strike? Yes, your stick hits him to a hair. But, if you had said a sword-stick, there would have been more point in it. Yes, my dear fellow, but that would have been too cutting, and contrary to the act. Ya-up! I am just prime for a lark. Tumble

up, boxkeeper. I'm, sorry, sir, but that shaggy great coat can't be admitted to the dress-boxes. Hold your gab, spoony saucebox, isn't it a regular box-coat? Good heavens, sir, your spurs have caught my muslin dress! Odz, madam, I beg pardon, but madam, I came to the theatre on horseback. Did you, sir, then we feel particularly obliged to you for not bringing your horse into the box with you. There's a box on the ear for the man in the brass spurs. Yes, he's got in the wrong box. My dear fellow, turn your glass, and tell me who is that corpulent lady, trying to hide herself behind her fan? Where? There in the second tier of boxes. That is the great Miss Puncheon, the distiller's daughter. Miss Puncheon, pho! a misstake, a misstake, she must be more than a single woman. But, my dear fellow, don't you think the boxes look very dull to night? Dull! no wonder, don't you see they are all in tiers. Tears, that's a pun of the first water. D-n it! how your wit flows to-night! Sir, it won't flow, if you dam it.

Hey down, ho down,

Derry derry down,

A play all our cares thus beguiles, O !

(ENCORE DIALOGUE.)

My dear fellow, who is that lovely creature in front, is she come-at-able? Sir, that's my wife. That's a cooler, Bob. Look, look, there's a gentleman fainted. Slacken his stays and braces; take off his 'kerchief, pads, collars, and wristbands. No, don't be picking him to pieces. Take that crying child home. What a shame for women to bring children here, especially within arms. Would you have them brought without arms? I say, sir, any body in arms is only calculated to raise a disturbance. Well, don't harm the child. Bless me! it's very warm! I vonder vhether all the vindows and wentilators are open, I am as vet as a sea-weed. Oh, for a puff of wind! Take this playbill, sir, it is full of puffs. Yes, but not hairy puffs. I declare now the eat has made me as dry as a mad dog; I wish I had a drop of some 'hat. Do you, then here's the drop scene. Then drop your

Hey down, ho down, &c.

I VANT TO FLY.

DURING the last war there were a number of French officers, in an inland town, on their parole of honour. Now, one gentle

man, being tired with the usual routine of eating, drinking, gambling, smoking, &c. and therefore, in order to amuse himself otherwise, resolved to go a fishing. His host supplied him with a rod and line, but being in want of artificial flies, went in search of a fishing-tackle maker's shop. Having found one, kept by a plain pains-taking John Bull, our Frenchman entered, and with a bow, a cringe, and a shrug of the shoulders, thus began :

Ah, Monsieur Anglise, comment vous, portez vous?'

6

Eh, that's French,' exclaimed the shop-keeper; 'not that I understand it, but I'm very well, if that's what you mean.' 'Bon bon, ver good; den, saire, I sall tell you, I vant deux fly.' 'I dare say you do, Mounseer,' replied the Englishman, and so do a great many more of your outlandish gentry; but I'm a true born Briton, and can never consent to assist the enemies of my country to leave it-particularly when they cost us so much to bring them here.'

'Ah, Monsieur, you no comprehend; I shall repeate, I vant deux fly, on the top of de vater.'

'Oh! what you want to fly by water, do you? then I'm sure I can't assist you, for we are, at least, a hundred miles from the sea-coast, and our canal is not navigable above ten or twelve miles from here.'

'Diable, mon Dieu! sare, you are un stup of the block. I sall tell you once seven times over again-I vant deux fly on the top of de vater, to dingle dangle at the end of de long pole.'

"Ay, ay! you only fly, Mounseer, by land or water, and if they catch you, I'm damned if they won't dingle dangle you, as you call it, at the end of a long pole.'

'Sacre un de dieu! la blas! vat you mean by dat, enfer diable? you are un bandit jack of de ass, Johnny de Bull. Ba, ba, you are effronte, and I disgrace me to parley vid you. I tell you, sare, dat I vant deux fly on the top of de vater, to dingle dangle at the end of the long pole, to la trap poisson.

'What's that you say, you French Mounseer—you'll lay a trap to poison me and all my family, because I won't assist you to escape? why, the like was never heard. Here Betty, go for the constable.'

The constable soon arrived, who happened to be as ignorant as the shopkeeper, and of course it was not expected that a constable should be a scholar. Thus the man of office began :

'What's all this? Betty has been telling me, that this here outlandish Frenchman is going to poison you and all your family? Ay, ay, I should like to catch him at it, that's all. Come, come to prison, you delinquent.'

'No, sare, I sall not go to de prison; take me before dewhat you call it-de ting that nibble de grass?'

'Oh, you mean the cow.'

'No, sare, not the cow; you stup Johnny boeuf-I mean de chouvel, vat you ride. [Imitating.] Come, sare, gee up. Ah, ha.' 'Oh, now I know, you mean a horse.'

'No, sare, I mean de horse's vife.'

'What, the mare.'

'Oui bon, yes, sare, take me to de mayor.'

This request was complied with, and the French officer soon stood before the English magistrate, who by chance happened to be better informed than his neighbours, and thus explained, to the satisfaction of all parties.

"You have mistaken the intention of this honest gentleman; he did not want to fly the country, but to go a fishing, and for that purpose went to your shop to purchase two flies, by way of bait, or, as he expressed it, to la trap la poisson. Poisson, in French, is fish.'

"Why, aye,' replied the shopkeeper, that may be true-you are a scholard, and so you know better than I. Poison, in French, may be very good fish, but give me good old English roast beef.'

TAKE IT; OR THE YORKSHIREMAN AND THE JEWELLER. (An Original Comic Recitation, written by Isaac Bass.) A COUNTRY joskin not blest with too much sense,

Had safe arrived from Yorkshire by the mail;

To gratify his eyes with wonders rare,

To carry to his friends a London tale.

Soon from the coach the joskin was put down,
Who quickly scuds, new wonders to explore-
Which to the hero of my tale was new;

For he in London ne'er had been before.
A jeweller's shop soon met his clownish eye,
He ope'd his mouth with wonderment alive!
For in the window was displayed to view,

A silver watch marked one pound five!'
'One pound five,' exclaimed he, with surprise,
'Dang it, that's a bargain, if it's sound;

At any rate I'll buy the watch,

If he will take the value of a pound.'

So saying this, he soon was in the shop,
His business to the jeweller quickly told;
And bringing forth a purse long as my arm,
He offered for the watch one pound in gold.

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