Ash. Turn out Henry! I vow I should'nt knaw how to zet about it-I should not, indeed, zur. Sir Phil. You hear my determination. If you disobey, you know what will follow. I'll leave you to reflect on it. [Exit. Ash. Well, zur, I'll argufy the topic, and then you may wait upon me, and I'll tell ye. (Makes the motion of turning out)-I should be deadly awkward at it vor zartin-however, I'll put the case. Well, I goes whiztling whoam-noa, drabbit it, I should'nt be able to whiztle a bit, I'm zure. Well, I goes whoam, and I sees Henry zitting by my wife, mixing up someit to comfort the wold zool, and take away the pain of her rheumatics. Very well, then Henry places a chair vor I by the vire side, and zays-" Varmer, the horses be fed, the sheep be folded, and you have nothing to do but zit down, smoke your pipe, and be happy !" Very well, (becomes affected) then I zays-" Henry, you be poor and friendless, zo you must turn out of my houze directly." Very well, then my wife stares at I— reaches her hand towards the vire place, and throws the poker at my head. Very well, then Henry gives a kind of aguish shake, and getting up, sighs from the bottom of his heart-then holding up his head like a king, says—“ Varmer, I have too long been a burthen to you-Heaven protect you as you have me. Farewell! I go." Then says, "If thee does, I'll be domn'd." (with great energy.) Hollo! you Mister Sir Philip! you may come in. [Enter Sir Philip Blandford. Zur, I have argufied the topic, and it wou'dn't be pratty-zo can't. Sir Phil. Can't! absurd! Ash. Well, zur, there is but another word-I won't. Sir Phil. Indeed! Ash. No, zur, I won't; I'd zee myself hang'd first, and you too, zur-I would indeed (bowing). Sir Phil. You refuse then to obey. Ash. I do, zur-at your zarvice (bowing). Ash. I be zorry for that too--I be, indeed, zur ; but if corn wou'dn't grow, I cou'dn't help it; it wer'n't poison'd by the hand that zow'd it. Thic hand, zir, be as free from guilt as your own. Sir Phil. Oh! (sighing deeply.) Ash. It were never held out to clinch a hard bargain, nor will it turn a good lad out into the wicked world, because he be poorish a bit. I be sorry you be offended, zur, quite-but come what wool, I'll never hit thic hand against here, but when I be zure that someit at inzide will jump against it with pleasure (bowing). I do hope you'll repent of all your zinsI do, indeed, zur; and if you shou'd, I'll come and see you again as friendly as ever-I wool, indeed, zur. Sir Phil. Your repentance will come too late. [Exit. Ash. Thank ye, zur-good morning to you-I do hope I have made myzel agreeable-and so I'll go whoam. DOUGLAS TO LORD RANDOLF. [Exit. My name is Norval: on the Grampian hills With bended bow, and quiver full of arrows, We fought, and conquer'd. Ere a sword was drawn, The shepherd's slothful life; and having heard Yon trembling coward, who forsook his master! THE DOCTOR AND FRENCHMAN. At Westminster school, that so long has been famous Old Busby, a breach of good manners for healing, One day, as the Doctor on rostrum was seated, The culprit, who well understood what would follow, The old Doctor, enraged, order'd ev'ry one in, "Sare! vat you mean by Gar, you break all my bones!" "Ah, ah! said the youngster, "'twas you threw the stones." "Sare, you be von grand liar, no stone habe I got:" But the stones in his pocket decided his lot. "Take him up!" cried old Busby; "by old Mother Church, "His posteriors shall suffer, so bring me the birch !" At length, being released, to a tavern he flew, With pen, ink, and paper, he soon was supplied, When a challenge he wrote, then "Here vaiter!" he cried, "Take dis letter, bring answer, and den you shall see "Me kill dis dam doctor, vat dey call de Busbee !" An hour pass'd by, when the waiter came in, And he look'd at Monsieur with a horrible grin: "Vell, for me vot you got? vy look you so shocking?" "For you, why I got a most terrible flogging !" "Got dam dis old Doctor! he strange fellow! parbleu ! "He has floggee you, eh? vy, he floggee me too! "And I give you great leave to call me von grand fool, "If I e'er go again near dat dam Vestminster school!" POCKETING A WATCH. He that a watch would carry, this must do,-- THE HEADSMAN OF ALGIERS. AN ENGLISH TRAVELLER'S TALE. That Britons in the marvellous delight, To think I've not the power of trouncing In deeds of arms; but as for feats of skill, Which, after what I've prefaced, none will doubt. In Algiers three Christian slaves lay bound Waiting in dread suspence for that dire sound My noble worthy friend, his name Tom Brown, H From whose veracious lips I had the whole narration. Said Tom, "They have a custom in Algiers "Of chopping people's heads off who offend: "They care not for entreaties, pray'rs, or tears— "Almost before a culprit's crime appears, "The sharp-edged sabre brings him to his end. |