What means yon peasant's daily toil, From choking weeds to rid the soil? Why wake you to the morning's care? Why with new arts correct the year? Why glows the peach with crimson hue? And why the plum's inviting blue? Were they to feast his taste design'd, That vermin of voracious kind? Crush then the slow, the pilf'ring race, So purge thy garden from disgrace.

What arrogance! the SNAIL reply'd;
How insolent is upstart pride!
Hadst thou not thus, with insult vain,
Provok'd my patience to complain,
I had conceal'd thy meaner birth,
Nor trac'd thee to the scum of earth.
For scarce nine suns have wak'd the hours,
To swell the fruit and paint the flow'rs,
Since I thy humbler life survey'd,

In base, in sordid guise array'd.
A hideous insect, vile, unclean,

You dragg'd a slow and noisome train;
And from your SPIDER bowels drew
Foul film, and spun the dirty clue.
I own my humble life, good friend;
SNAIL was I born, and SNAIL shall end.
And what's a BUTTERFLY?—At best,
He's but a CATERPILLAR drest:
And all thy race (a num'rous seed)

Shall prove of CATERPILLAR breed.

THE SCOLD AND THE PARROT.

THE husband thus reprov'd his wife :

-

Who deals in slander lives in strife.
Art thou the herald of disgrace,
Denouncing war to all thy race?
Can nothing quell thy thunder's rage,
Which spares not friend, nor sex, nor age?
That vixen tongue of your's, my dear,
Alarms our neighbours far and near;
Good gods! 'tis like a rolling river,
That murm'ring flows, and flows for ever!
Ne'er tir'd, perpetual discord sowing!
Like fame, it gathers strength by going.

Heigh-day! the flippant tongue replies, How solemn is the fool! how wise! Is nature's choicest gift debarr'd? Nay, frown not; for I will be heard.

Women of late are finely ridden,
A PARROT's privilege forbidden!
You praise his talk, his squalling song;
But wives are always in the wrong.

Now reputations flew in pieces,

Of mothers, daughters, aunts, and nieces.
She ran the PARROT's language o'er;
Bawd, hussy, drunkard, slattern, whore !
On all the sex she vents her fury;
Tries and condemns without a jury.

At once the torrent of her words Alarm'd cat, monkey, dogs, and birds. All join their forces to confound her; Puss spits, the MONKEY chatters round her, The yelping CUR her heels assaults, The MAGPIE blabs out all her faults; POLL, in the uproar, from his cage,

• With this rebuke out-scream'd hér rage:

A PARROT is for talking priz'd, But prattling women are despis'd; She who attacks another's honour, Draws ev'ry living thing upon her.

Think, madam, when you stretch your lungs, That all your neighbours, too, have tongues; One slander must ten thousand get

The world with int'rest pays the debt.

"Taylor sculpt

THE CUR AND THE MASTIFF.

A SNEAKING CUR, the master's spy,

Rewarded for his daily lie,

With secret jealousies and fears
Set all together by the ears.
Poor Puss to-day was in disgrace,
Another cat supply'd her place;

The HOUND was beat, the MASTIFF chid,
The MONKEY was the room forbid;
Each to his dearest friend grew shy,
And none could tell the reason why.

A plan to rob the house was laid.
The thief with love seduc'd the maid,
Cajol'd the CUR, and strok'd his head,
And bought his secresy with bread.
He next the MASTIFF's honour try'd,
Whose honest jaws the bribe defy'd;

He stretch'd his hand to proffer more;
The surly DOG his fingers tore.

Swift ran the cUR; with indignation,
The master took his information.
Hang him, the villain's curst, he cries,
And round his neck the halter ties.

The DOG his humble suit preferr'd,
And begg'd in justice to be heard.
The master sat. On either hand
The cited DOGS confronting stand.
The CUR the bloody tale relates,
And, like a lawyer, aggravates.

Judge not unheard, the MASTIFF cry'd, But weigh the cause of either side. Think not that treach'ry can be just, Take not informers' words on trust ; They ope' their hand to ev'ry pay, And you and me by turns betray.

He spoke. And all the truth appear'd. The CUR was hang'd, the MASTIFF clear'd.