to see ma; so I went to see poor Betty, and she said, "Richard, if I shou'd dee, thee'd goo to my burying, wou'dn't thee?" and I said, I nowd'nt not, haply I mought, so I said I wou'd, and I did, and I went to her burying, for poor Betty deed; and I ne'er goo through Hickleton churchyard without dropping a tear to the memory of poor Betty Hunt.
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THE THRIVING TRADESMEN.
When a couple of broom-men had chatted one day
On a number of things in a sociable way,
A new subject they started. Says Jack, "My friend Joe,
I have long been most plaguedly puzzled to know
How you manage to sell brooms cheaper than mine,
As I steal the materials." --"I like your design,"
Replied Joe; "but improvement's the soul of a trade:
All the brooms I dispose of, I steal ready made."
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T H E L A D I E S' P E T I T I O N
Dear Doctor, let it not transpire
How much your lectures we admire;
How at your eloquence we wonder,
When you explain the cause of thunder,
Of lightning, and of electricity,
With so much plainness and simplicity;
The origin of rocks and mountains,
Of seas and rivers, lakes and fountains:
Of rain and hills, and frost and snow,
And all the storms and winds that blow;
Besides a hundred wonders more,
Of which we never heard before.
But now, dear Doctor, not to flatter,
There is a most important matter,
A matter which you never touch on,
A matter which our thoughts run much on;
A subject, if we right conjecture,
That well deserves a long, long lecture,
Which all the ladies would approve--
The Natural History of Love!
Deny us not, dear Doctor Moyce:
O list to our entreating voice!
