THE RETORT.*

A supercilious nabob of the East,

Haughty and grave, and purse-proud, being rich,

A Governor or General at least,

I have forgotten which,

Had in his family a humble youth,

Who went to India in his patron's suite;
An unassuming body, and in truth

A lad of decent parts and good repute;
This youth had sense and spirit,
Yet with all his sense

Excessive diffidence

Obscured his merit.

One day at table, flush'd with pride and wine,
His Honour proudly free, severely merry ;
Conceived it would be vastly fine

To crack a joke upon his Secretary.

"Young man," said he, " by what art, craft, or trade, Did your good father earn his livelihood?"

"He was a saddler, Sir," Modestus said, "And in his line was reckon'd good." "A saddler eh! and taught you Greek Instead of teaching you to sew;

And pray, Sir, why didn't

A saddler, Sir, of you?"

your father make

Each Parasite, 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."

My father's trade?-Why, Sir, that's too bad, My father's trade! Why blockhead art thou mad!

In this Piece there should be three different tones of voice, that of the Narrator, of the Governor, and of Modestus. The Narrator's tone and manner should be easy and agreeable; that of the Governor, pompous and haughty, with an occasional sneer of Contempt, so as to form a striking contrast with the mild tone and submissive manner of Modestus.

My father, Sir, did never stoop so low,
He was a Gentleman I'd have you know;"
"Excuse the liberty," Modestus said, “I take,”
With archness in his brow,

"Pray, Sir, why did not then your father make,
A Gentleman of you?"

THE FARMER AND THE COUNSELLOR.*

A Counsel in the Common Pleas,
Who was esteem'd a mighty wit,
Upon the strength of a chance hit,
Amid a thousand flippancies,
And his occasional bad jokes

In bullying, bantering, brow-beating,
Ridiculing and maltreating
Women, or other timid folks;
In a late cause resolved to hoax
A clownish Yorkshire farmer-

-one

Who by his uncouth look and gait,
Appeared expressly meant by Fate,
For being quizz'd and play'd upon.
So having tipp'd the wink to those
In the back rows,

Who kept their laughter bottled down,
Until our wag should draw the cork,
He smiled jocosely on the clown,
And went to work.

"Well, Farmer Numskull, how go calves at York?"
"Why-not, Sir, as they do with you,

But on four legs instead of two."

"Officer! cried the legal elf,

Piqued at the laugh against himself,

"Do pray keep silence down below there;

* The Yorkshire dialect, and rusticity of the Farmer must be imitated, and be made to contrast with the flippant and authoritative tone and manner of the Counsel, while the Narrator's tone and manner will differ from both.

Now, look at me, clown, and attend,
Have I not seen you somewhere, friend?
"Yees-very like-I often go there."
"Our rustic's waggish-quite laconic,"
The counsel cried with grin sardonic.-
"I wish I'd known this prodigy,
This genius of the clods when I

On circuit was at York residing.-
Now, Farmer, do for once speak true,
Mind, you're on oath, so tell me, you
Who doubtless think yourself so clever,
Are there as many fools as ever

In the West Riding?"

Why no, Sir, no; we've got our share, But not so many as when you were there."

HORACE SMITH.

THE ASTRONOMICAL ALDERMAN.

The Pedant or Scholastikos became
The butt of all the Grecian jokes;
With us poor Paddy bears the blame
Of blunders made by other folks;
Though we have certain civic sages,
Term'd Aldermen, who perpetrate
Bulls as legitimate and great,
As any that the classic pages
Of old Hierocles can shew,

Or Mr. Miller's, commonly call'd Joe.
One of these turtle-eating men,

Not much excelling

In his spelling,

When ridicule he meant to brave, Said he was more P, than N,

Meaning thereby more Phool than Nave; Though they who knew our cunning Thraso, Pronounced it flattery to say so.

His civic brethren to express

His "double, double, toil and trouble,"

And bustling, noisy, emptiness,

Had christen'd him Sir Hubble Bubble.