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Not fit to scrape a hog!'

Hodge sought the fellow-found him-and begun— 'P'rhaps, Master Razor-rogue! to you tis fun That people flay themselves out of their lives.

You rascal! for an hour have I been grubbing, Giving my crying whiskers here a scrubbing With razors just like oyster-knives.

Sirrah! I tell you, you're a knave,

To cry up razors that can't shave.'

'Friend,' quoth the razor man, 'I'm not a knave: As for the razors you have bought,— Upon my soul, I never thought

That they would shave.'

'Not think they'd shave?' quoth Hodge with wond'ring eyes,

And voice not much unlike an Indian yell,

'What were they made for, then, you dog?' he cries. 'Made!' quoth the fellow, with a smile to sell.'




Between Nose and Eyes, a strange contest arose,
The spectacles set them unhappily wrong;
The point in dispute was, as all the world knows,
To which the said spectacles ought to belong.

So the Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learning;

While chief baron Ears, set to balance the laws,
So fam'd for his talent in nicely discerning.

In behalf of the Nose, it will quickly appear,

And your lordship, he said, will undoubtedly find, That the Nose has had spectacles always in wear, Which amounts to possession time out of mind.

Then, holding the spectacles up to the courtYour lordship observes they are made with straddle,

As wide as the ridge of the Nose is; in short,
Design'd to fit close to it, just like a saddle.

Again, would your lordship a moment suppose

('Tis a case that has happen'd, and may be again) That the visage or countenance had not a Nose,

Pray who would or who could wear spectacles then?

On the whole it appears, and my argument shows, With a reasoning the court will never condemn, That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose, And the Nose was as plainly intended for them.

Then shifting his sides, as a lawyer knows how,
He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes;
But what were his arguments few people know,
For the court did not think they were equally wise.

So his lordship decreed, with a grave solemn tone,
Decisive and clear, without one if or but —
That whenever the Nose put the spectacles on,
By day-light or candle-light-Eyes should be shut.



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A supercilious nabob of the east,

Haught, being great, and purse-proud, being rich,

A govern r. or general, at the least,

I have forgotten which,

Had in his family an humble youth,

Who went from England in his patron's suit,

An unassuming boy, and in truth

A lad of decent parts, and good repute.

This youth had sense and spirit;

But yet, with all his sense,
Excessive diffidence

Obscured his merit.

One day, at table, flushed with pride and wine,
His Honor, proudly free, severely merry,
Conceived it would be vastly fine

To crack a joke upon his secretary.

"Young man," he said "by what art, craft, or trade Did your good father gain a livelihood?" "He was a Saddler, sir," Modestus said, "And in his time was reckoned good." "A Saddler, eh! and taught you Greek,

Instead of teaching you to sew: Pray, why did not your father make A Saddler, sir, of you?"

Each parasite, then, as in duty bound,

The joke applauded, and the laugh went round.
At length Modestus, bowing low,

Said, (craving pardon, if too free he made) "Sir by your leave, I fain would know Your father's trade."

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My father's trade! by Heaven, that's too bad!

My father's trade? why, blockhead, are you mad? My father, sir, did never stoop so low

He was a gentleman, I'd have you know.”

"Excuse the liberty I take,"


Modestus said, with archness on his brow,
Pray, why did not your Father make
A gentleman of you?"




And thou hast walked about (how strange a story!) In Thebes' streets, three thousand years ago, When the Memnonium was in all its glory,

And time had not begun to overthrow
Those temples, palaces, and piles stupendous,
Of which the very ruins are tremendous.

Speak! for thou long enough has acted dummy,
Thou hast a tongue-come let us hear its tone;
Thou'rt standing on thy legs, above ground, Mummy!
Revisiting the glimpses of the moon,


Not like thin ghosts or disembodied creatures,
But with thy bones and flesh, and limbs and features.

Tell us for doubtless thou canst recollect,

To whom should we assign the sphinx's fame?

Was Cheops or Cephrenes architect

Of either Pyramid that bears his name? Is Pompey's pillar really a misnomer ? Had Thebes a hundred gates, as sung by Homer?

Perhaps thou wert a Mason, and forbidden.

By oath to tell the mysteries of thy trade; Then say, what secret melody was hidden

In Memnon's statue which at sunrise played ? Perhaps thou wert a Priest—if so, my struggles Are vain,-Egyptian priests ne'er owned their juggles.

Perchance that very hand, now pinioned flat,

Has bob-a-nobb'd with Pharaoh glass to glass ;
Or dropped a halfpenny in Homer's hat,

Or doff'd thine own to let Queen Dido pass,
Or held, by Solomon's own invitation,
A torch at the great Temple's dedication.

I need not ask thee if that hand, when armed,
Hast any Roman soldier mauled and knuckled,
For thou wert dead, and buried, and embalmed,
Ere Romulus or Remus had been suckled-
Antiquity appears to have begun
Long after thy primeval race was run.

Since first thy form was in this box extended,

We have, above ground, seen some strange mutations ;

The Roman empire has begun and ended;

New works have risen-we have lost old nations, And courtly kings have into dust been humbled, While not a fragment of thy flesh has crumbled.

Didst thou not hear the pother o'er thy head,
When the great Persian conqueror Cambyses,

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