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that which is now bent upon the page, for I hold that an indulgent, eye, like a good horse, cannot be of a bad colour.

My paper would be incomplete without a word or two upon eyebrows, which, it is to be observed, are peculiar to man, and were intended, according to the physiologists, to prevent particles of dust or perspiration from rolling into the eye. Nothing appears to me more impertinent than the fancied penetration of these human moles, who are for ever attributing imaginary intentions to inscrutable Nature; nor more shallow and pedlar-like than their resolving every thing into a use; as if they could not see, in the gay colours and delicious perfumes, and mingled melodies lavished upon the earth, sufficient evidence that the beneficent Creator was not satisfied with mere utility, but combined with it a profusion of gratuitous beauty and delight. I dare say that they would rather find a use for the coloured eyes of Argus in the peacock's tail, than admit that the human eyebrows could have been bestowed for mere ornament and expression. Yet they have been deemed the leading indices of various passions. Homer makes them the seat of majesty-Virgil of dejection-Horace of modesty-Juvenal of pride-and we ourselves consider them such intelligible exponents of scorn and haughtiness, that we have adopted from them our word supercilious. In lively faces they have a language of their own, and can aptly represent all the sentiments and passions of the mind, even when they are purposely repressed in the eye. By the workings of the line just above a

lady's eyebrows, much may be discovered that could never be read in the face; and by this means I am enabled to detect in the looks of my fair readers such a decided objection to any farther inquisition into their secret thoughts, that I deem it prudent to exclaim, in the language of Oberon-“ Lady, I kiss thine eye, and so good night."

THE LAWYER AND THE CHIMNEY-SWEEPER.

A ROGUISH Old Lawyer was planning new sin,
As he lay on his bed in a fit of the gout;

The mails and the daylight were just coming in,

The milkmaids and rushlights were just going out:—

When a Chimney-sweep's boy, who had made a mistake,
Came flop down the flue with a cluttering rush,
And bawl'd, as he gave his black muzzle a shake,

66

My master's a-coming to give you a brush."

"If that be the case," said the cunning old elf,

“There's no moment to lose—it is high time to flee ;
Ere he gives me a brush, I will brush off myself,
If I wait for the Devil, the Devil take me!"

So he limp'd to the door without saying his prayers;
But Old Nick was too deep to be nick'd of his prey,
For the knave broke his neck by a tumble down stairs,
And thus ran to the Devil by running away.

PETER PINDARICS.

The Surgeon and the House Painters.

PAINTERS are like the dry-rot, if we let 'em
Fix on our pannels and our planks,

There's no ejectment that can get 'em

Out till they've fairly play'd their pranks. There is a time, however, when the ghastly Spectres cease to haunt our vision;

And as my readers, doubtless, would like vastly
To calculate it with precision,

I'll tell them for their ease and comfort
What happen'd t'other day at Romford.

In that great thoroughfare for calves,
Destined to pacify the yearnings
Of Norton Falgate, gormandizing,
There dwelt a Surgeon, who went halves
With the apothecary, in the earnings
From broken limbs and accidents arising.
But somehow the good Romford drones
Were so confounded careful against harms,
They neither broke their legs nor arms,
Nor even slipp'd their collar-bones.
In short, he couldn't find one benefactor
Among these cruel calf and pig-herds,
To treat him with a single fracture.
Was ever such a set of niggards!

The fact is, that they never took the road,
Except on vehicles which God bestow'd-
But if with other legs you take a journey,
What wonder if they sometimes overturn ye?

One morn a Patent Safety Coach

Departed from the Swan with the Two Necks, A sign that seems intended to reproach

Those travellers of either sex,

Who deem one neck sufficient for the risks

Of ditches, drunkards, wheels, and four-legg'd frisks.
Just as they enter'd Romford with a dash,

Meaning to pass the Opposition,

The front wheel came in violent collision
With a low post—was shiver'd, smash !

And down the coach came with a horrid crash.

"Zooks!" cried the coachman, as he swore and cursed,
"That rascal Jack will get to Chelmsford first:-
We might have had worse luck on't, for I sees
None of the horses hasn't broke their knees."
As to his fare-or any human limb,
Had ten been broken, 'twas all one to him.
Luckily for the passengers, the master

Of the Plough Inn, who witness'd the disaster,
Ran with his men, and maids, and spouse,
Th' imprison'd sufferers unpounded,
Convey'd the frighten'd, sick, and wounded
Into his house;

Then hied himself into the town, to urge on
The speed of the aforesaid Surgeon.

He came—inquired the wounds and spasms
Of all the mistresses and masters;
Applied lint-poultice-balsams-plasters,
And cataplasms,

Bandaging some, and letting others blood,
And then ran home to tell how matters stood.
Like Garrick 'twixt Thalia and Melpomene,

His wife put on her tragi-comic features:-
She had a heart-but also an uncommon eye

To the main chance, and so she cried-" Poor creatures Dear me, how shocking to be wounded thus!—

THE SURGEON AND THE HOUSE-PAINTERS. 265

A famous God-send certainly for us!

Don't tell me any more, my dear Cathartic;
The horrid story really makes my heart ach.
One broken rib-an ankle sprain'd-that's worse,
I mean that's better, for it lasts the longer;
Those careless coachmen are the traveller's curse,
How lucky that they hadn't got to Ongar!
Two bad contusions-several ugly wounds,
Why this should be a job of fifty pounds!-
So now there's no excuse for being stingy;
'Tis full twelve years-no matter when it was—
At all events, the parlour's horrid dingy,
And now it shall be painted—that is

poz!
!"

The Painters come-two summer-days they give
To scrape acquaintance with each pannel,
Then mix the deadly stuff by which they live,
(The smell's enough to make the stoutest man ill,)
And now,
in all their deleterious glory,

They fall upon the wainscot con a more.

The parlour 's done-you wouldn't know the room,
It looks four times as large, and eight times lighter,
But most unluckily, as that grew whiter,

The hall look'd less, and put on tenfold gloom.

"There's no use doing things by halves, my dear,
We must just titivate the hall, that's clear."
66 Well, be it so, you've my consent, my love,
But when that's done, the painters go, by Jove !"-
They heard him, and began. All hurry-scurry
They set to work instanter,

But presently they slacken'd from their hurry
Into a species of snail's canter.

The Surgeon, who had had his fill

Of stench, and trembled for his bill,

Saw day by day, with aggravated loathing,
That they were only dabbling, paddling,
Twiddling, and fiddle-faddling,

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