b"Oh! call me not a stupid cur,
'Twas but a lapsus linguæ, Sir."
"A lapsus linguæ ?" one guest cries,
"A pun!" another straight replies.
The joke was caught-the laugh went round-
Nor could a serious face be found.
The master, when the uproar ceased,
Finding his guests were all well pleased,
Forgave the servant's slippery feet,
And quick revoked his former threat.
Now Tom had all this time stood still,
And heard the applause bestowed on Will;
Delighted, he had seen the fun,

Of what his comrade late had done,
And thought, should he but do the same,
An equal share of praise he'd claim.
As soon as told the meat to fetch in,
Bolted like lightning to the kitchen,
And seizing there a leg of lamb,
(I am not certain, perhaps 'twas ham,
No matter which,) without delay,
Off to the parlour march'd away,
And stumbling as he turn'd him round,
Twirl'd joint and dish upon the ground.
For this my lord was ill-prepared ;
Again the astonish'd servants stared.
Tom grinn'd-but seeing no one stir,
"Another lapsus linguæ, Sir!"

Loud he exclaimed-no laugh was raised,
No clever fellow's' wit was praised.
Confounded, yet not knowing why
His wit could not one laugh supply ;
And fearing lest he had mistook
The words, again thus loudly spoke :
(Thinking again it might be tried,)
"Twas but a lapsæ linguus," cried.
My lord, who long had quiet sat,
Now clearly saw what he was at ;

b Will's tone and manner should denote humility with a slight degree

of archness.

e Tom's manner and utterance should be expressive of Assurance.

In wrath this warning loud he gave,
"When next thou triest, unletter'd knave,
To give, as thine, another's wit,

Mind well thou know'st what's meant by it;
Nor let a lapsus linguæ slip

From out thy pert assuming lip,

Till well thou know'st thy stolen song,
Nor think a leg of lamb, a tongue."
He said and quickly from the floor,
Straight kicked him thro' the unlucky door.

MORAL.

Let each pert Coxcomb learn from this,
True wit will never come amiss;
But should a borrow'd plume appear,
Derision's always in the rear.

COOL REFLECTIONS DURING A MIDSUMMER'S WALK.*

Oh! spare me-spare me, Phœbus! if indeed
Thou hast not let another Photon

Drive earthward thy fierce steeds and fiery car.
Mercy! I melt! I melt! no tree, no bush,
No shelter! not a breath of stirring air,

East, West, or North, or South! dear god of day,
Put on thy night-cap! crop thy locks of light,
And be in the fashion! turn thy back upon us,
And let thy beams flow upward! make it night,
Instead of noon! one little miracle

In pity, gentle Phoebus !

What a joy,

Oh, what a joy, to be a seal and flounder

On an ice-island! or to have a den,

With the white bear cavern'd in polar snow!

To give effect to this piece, the Speaker should seem overcome with heat; he might occasionally walk gently about, and fan himself with his handkerchief, having his waistcoat somewhat open, and his shirt-collar rather loose. The rate of utterance should be in general rather quick, and the tone exclamatory, yet bordering on the ludicrous.

It were a comfort to shake hands with Death:
He has a rare cold hand! to wrap one's self
In the gift-shirt Deianeira sent,

Dipt in the blood of Nessus, just to keep
The sun off: or toast cheese for Beelzebub;
That were a cool employment to this journey,
Along a road whose white intensity

Would now make platina uncongealable,
Like quicksilver.

Were it midnight, I should walk
Self-lanthorn'd, saturate with sunbeams. Jove!
O gentle Jove! have mercy, and once more
Kick that obdurate Phoebus out of Heaven;
Give Boreas the wind-cholic, 'till he roars
For cardamum, and drinks down peppermint,
Making what's left as precious as Tokay.
Send Mercury to salivate the sky

'Till it dissolve in rain. O, gentle Jove!
But some such little kindness to a wretch,
Who feels his marrow spoiling his best coat;
Who swells with caloric, as if a Prester
Had leaven'd every limb with poison'd yeast;
Lend me thy eagle just to flap his wings
And fan me, and I will build temples to thee,
And turn true Pagan.

Not a cloud nor breeze!—
O you most heathen deities! if ever

My bones reach home, (for, for the flesh upon them, That hath resolved itself into a dew,)

I shall have learnt owl wisdom. Thou vile Phœbus! Set me a Persian sun-idolator

Upon this turnpike road, and I'll convert him,

With no inquisitorial argument,

But thy own fires.

Help me, O Jupiter! my poor complexion !

I'm made a copper Indian of already;
And if no kindly cloud will parasol me,

My very cellular membrane will be changed,-
I shall be negrofied.

A brook! a brook!

Oh, what a sweet cold sound!

'Tis very nectar!

It runs like life through every strengthen'd limb! Nymph of the stream, now take a grateful prayer! SOUTHEY.

THE DOCTOR AND HIS APPRENTICE.

A pupil of the Esculapian school
Was just prepared to quit his master's rule:
Not that he knew his trade, as it appears,
But that he then had learnt it seven years.

Yet think not that in knowledge he was cheated-
All that he had to study still,

Was, when a man was well or ill,
And how, if sick, he should be treated.

One morn, he thus address'd his master:
a "Dear Sir, my honour'd father bids me say,
If I could now and then a visit pay,
He thinks with you,

To notice how you do,

My business I might learn a little faster." b"The thought is happy," the preceptor cries; "A better method he could scarce devise ; So Bob," (his pupil's name) "it shall be so, And when I next pay visits, you shall go.

To bring that hour, alas! time briskly fled :
With dire intent,

Away they went,

And now behold them at a patient's bed.

The master-doctor solemnly perused

His victim's face, and o'er his symptoms mused;
Look'd wise, said nothing-an unerring way,

When people nothing have to say:

Then felt his pulse and smelt his cane,

And paused, and blink'd, and smelt again,

a The manner of the Apprentice should be humble and submissive. b The Doctor's manner is here grave and formal.

And briefly of his corps perform'd each motion;
Manoeuvres that for Death's platoon are meant:
A kind of a Make-ready and Present!

C 66

Before the fell discharge of pill and potion.

At length the patient's wife he thus address'd:
Madam, your husband's danger's great,
And (what will never his complaint abate)
The man's been eating oysters, I perceive."
d"Dear! you're a witch, I verily believe,"
Madam replied, and to the truth confess'd.

Skill so prodigious Bobby too admired,
And home returning of the Sage inquired

How these same oysters came into his head? e "Psha! my dear Bob, the thing was plainSure that can ne'er distress thy brain,

I saw the shells lie underneath the bed."

So wise by such a lesson grown,

Next day Bob ventured forth alone,

And to the self-same sufferer paid his court-
But soon, with haste and wonder out of breath,
Return'd the stripling minister of death,

And to his master made this dread report:
f "Why, Sir, we ne'er can keep that patient under,
Zounds! such a maw I never came across!
The fellow must be dying, and no wonder,
For hang me if he has'nt eat a horse!"

"A horse!" the elder man of physic cried,
As if he meant his pupil to deride-
8" How came so wild a notion in your head!

"How! think not in my duty I was idle; Like you, I took a peep beneath the bed,

And there I saw a saddle and a bridle !"

"

This requires a considerable degree of Gravity, bordering on the ludicrous.

d With a tone of Amazement.

e In a Condescending manner.

f Astonishment should be strongly depicted on the countenance. g With a sneer of Contempt.