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HODGE AND THE VICAR.*

Hodge, a poor honest country lout,
Not over-stock'd with learning;
Chanced on a Summer's eve to meet
The vicar, home returning.

"Ah! master Hodge," the vicar cried,
"What still as wise as ever?

The people in the village say

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That you are wond'rous clever."

Why, measter parson, as to that
I beg you'll right conceive me;
I do na brag, but yet I knaw

A thing or two, believe me."

"We'll try your skill," the parson cried,
"For learning what digestion :
And this you'll prove or right or wrong,
By solving me a question."

"Noah, of old, three babies had,

Or grown-up children rather:

Shem, Ham, and Japhet they were called :-
Now who was Japhet's father?"

"Rat it!

cried Hodge, and scratched his head,

"That does my wits belabour :

But howsomede'er, I'll homeward run,
And ax old Giles my neighbour."

To Giles he went and put the case,
With circumspect intention :

"Thou fool," cried Giles, "I'll make it clear

To thy dull comprehension.

"Three children has Tom Long, the smith,

Or cattle-doctor rather;

Tom, Dick, and Harry, they are called:

Now who is Harry's father?"

In this piece the Vicar is kind, condescending, and gentlemanly; Hodge is awkward and clownish, with a strong rustic dialect, while Giles is a plain spoken man.

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"Adzooks, I have it," Hodge replied,
"Right well I know your lingo;
Who's Harry's father?-stop-here goes,-
Why Tom Long Smith by jingo."
Away he ran to find the priest,
With all his might and main;
Who with good humour instant put
The question once again.

"Noah of old three babies had,
Or grown up children rather;
Shem, Ham, and Japhet they were called:
Now who was Japhet's father?"

"I have it now," Hodge grinning cried,
"I'll answer like a Proctor;

Who's Japhet's father? now I know;
Why Long Tom Smith, the Doctor.'

THE COLLEGIAN AND THE PORTER.*

At Trin. Coll. Cam.—which means, in proper spelling.
Trinity College, Cambridge,-there resided
One Harry Dashington-a youth excelling
In all the learning commonly provided
For those who choose that classic station
For finishing their education :

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,

*The tone and manner of the Narrator should be lively and humoursome. The Porter may be supposed to be a gruff old man, with a thick voice, while the Collegian is a gay youth, fond of tricks and merriment; but while endeavouring to attain his object, uses a supplicatory, insinuating manner.

Seem'd but to make his lapses greater,
'Till he was warn'd that next offence
Would have this certain consequence-
Expulsion from his Alma Mater.

One need not be a necromancer
To guess that with so wild a wight,
The next offence occurr'd next night;
When our Incurable came rolling

Home as the midnight chimes were tolling,
And rang the College bell.—No answer.-

The second peal was vain-the third
Made the street echo its alarum ;
When to his great delight he heard
The sordid Janitor, old Ben,

Rousing and growling in his den.

"Who's there?-I s'pose young Harum-scarum." ""Tis I, my worthy Ben-'tis Harry."

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Ay, so I thought—and there you'll tarry,

'Tis past the hour-the gates are closed-
You know my orders-I shall lose
My place if I undo the door."-

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And I," (young Hopeful interposed,) "Shall be expell'd if you refuse, So pr'ythee"- -Ben began to snore. "I'm wet," cried Harry, "to the skin, Hip! hallo! Ben-don't be a ninney ; Beneath the gate I've thrust a guinea, So tumble out and let me in."

"Humph!" growl'd the greedy old Curmudgeon, Half overjoy'd and half in dudgeon, "Now you may pass, but make no fuss, On tiptoe walk and hold your prate." "Look on the stones, old Cerberus," Cried Harry as he pass'd the gate, "I've dropp'd a shilling-take the light, You'll find it just outside-good night."

Behold the porter in his shirt,

Cursing the rain which never stopp'd, Groping and raking in the dirt,

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