No doubt, Ma'am-what a shame it is! I give folks plenty when I ax 'em, Do you think her shawl, Ma'am's, real Ingy? Lord love you! no,-well, give me clo'es That's plain and good, Ma'am, not like those; Though not so tawdry, Mrs. Jacks, We do put clean things on our backs. And get our rumps from Leadenhall Yes, meat is monstrous dear all round; O'er Prospect Row resumed its reign; HORACE SMITH. MRS. ROSE GROB. (From "Gaieties and Gravities.") NONE would have known that Siegmund Grob But that he died and left the job, Of tombstone-making to an undertaker ; Who, being a mason, also was a poet, So he engraved a skull upon the stone, (The sexton of Whitechapel church will shew it), Then carved the following couplet from his own: Stop, reader stop, and give a sob "For Siegmund Grob." Two thousand pounds, besides her savings, Accordingly, in Mile-end-road She quickly chose a snug retreat; 'Twas quite a pastoral abode, Its situation truly sweet! Her cottage front was stuccoed white; Upon the house-top, on a plaster shell, Rose Cottage" was inscribed, its name to dub: The green door looked particularly well, Picked out with blue, to match the tub; The children round about were smitten Whene'er they stopped to fix their eye on The flaming knocker, ('twas a lion); Beneath it was a large brass knob, Here she resided free from strife, After dinner, in a trice She locked the fragments up in towels; She weighed out bread, and cheese, and butter, And in all cases shewed an utter Disregard for Betty's bowels; As if in penance for her sins, She made her dine on shanks and shins; (Was ever such a stingy hussey)? And reckoned it a treat to give her Nay, of all perquisites the damsel stripping, The washing week approached; an awful question Of that carnivorous beast-a washer-woman. "Tis time their third lunch was begun. At length provisions being got all proper, And everything put out, starch, blue, soap, gin; A fire being duly laid beneath the copper, The clothes in soak all ready to begin ; Up to her room the industrious Betty goes To fetch her sheets, and screams down stairs to Rose, "La, goodness me! why here's a job! You ha'nt put out a second pair.' "No more I have," said Mrs. Grob; Well, that's a good un I declare ! "Sure I've the most forgetful head, "And there's no time to air another, "So take one sheet from off your bed, "And make a shift, to-night, with t'other." So, in this instance, it occurred, For Betty took her at her word; And, with the bright conception smitten, Cut up one sheet into a shift, And took the other off the bed! And saw the mischief done by aid It There's no describing what a shock gave her to behold the sheet in tatters; And so, by way of mending matters, She called her cheat, and slut, and jade, pother; "I've done exactly what you 've said, "Taken one sheet from off the bed, 'don't make such a "And made a shift to-night with t'other." HORACE SMITH. THE COLLEGIAN AND THE PORTER. (From "Gaieties and Gravities.") At Trin. Coll. Cam.-which means, in In all the learning commonly provided That is he understood computing The odds at any race or match; Was a dead hand at pigeon shooting; Could kick up rows-knock down the watch Play truant and the rake at random— Drink-tie cravats and drive a tandem. Remonstrance, fine, and rustication, So far from working reformation, Seem'd but to make his lapses greater; Till he was warn'd that next offence One need not be a necromancer And To guess that with so wild a wight, Home as the midnight chimes were tolling, |