THE MODERN GILPIN, &c. &c. "He little dreamt, when he set out, PART I. JOHN OLDSTOCK was a store-keeper, An ebon nymph grac'd his shop-door-- John was not young, nor was he old: He was a sober, careful man, And constant at his labour; His spouse was fair as spouse could be- She lov'd a little gentle jaunt, To Highgate or to Hampstead; And sometimes visited an aunt, Who liv'd quite snug at Flamstead. While John, good soul, still plodded on;— "There's nought to me like home," thought John; "I ne'er shall be a ranger." But men are wayward creatures, sure, But time can resolution cure For time's the best of pickle, THE MODERN GILPIN. 7 So, as at supper sat the pair, After the day's exertion, Dame spoke so well-John told the fair, And thus he thought, and thus he said, And spend a day with Ann and Fred, "We've seen but nought of life you know; The dame return'd him many For she did never grumble; smiles As ten was booming thro' Saint Giles', PART II. 'Twas six o'clock (they rose at five)—— For John, as soon as he awoke, And when he'd found the street and folk, Few friends had John-but these were true, And merry ones beside: For all his other friends-the crew Had turn'd with fortune's tide. Well, now at breakfast sit the lot, THE MODERN GILPIN. And now the hour is drawing near- The hamper fill'd with goodly cheer- A coach is call'd-they mean to ride, Well, now the door is clos'd at last, John Oldstock was not pleas'd to find Fain would his friends have stay'd for John, But this he'd not allow: He told the coachman to drive on, And he would quickly follow. 9 |