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Just like a hedger cutting furze:
'Twas a vile razor ;—then the rest he tried
All were impostors—“Ah," Hodge sigh'd ! “I wish my eighteen-pence within my purse,”
In vain to chase his beard, and bring the graces, He cut, and dug, and winc'd, and stamp'd, and
swore ; Brought blood, and danc'd, blasphem'd, and made
wry faces, And curs'd each razor's body o'er and o’er.
His muzzle, formed of opposition stuff,
Firm as a Foxite, would not lose its ruff ; So kept it-laughing at the steel and suds :
Hodge, in a passion, stretch'd his angry jaws,
Vowing the direst vengence, with clenched claws, On the great cheat that sold the goods.
“Razors! a vile, confounded dog,
Hodge sought the fellow_found him—and begun : “Perhaps, Master Razor-rogue, to you 'tis fun,
“ That people flay themselves out of their lives : “ You rascal ! for an hour have I been grubbing, Giving my scoundrel whiskers here a scrubbing, “With razors just like oyster knives.
“ Sirrah! I tell you, you're a knave,
“ Friend,” quoth the razor man, “ I'm not a knave :
“ As for the razors you have bought,
“ Upon my soul I never thought That they would shave.”
“Not think they'd shave !" quoth Hodge, with
wond’ring eyes, And voice not much unlike an Indian yell; “What were they made for then, you dog,” he cries; “Made!” quoth the fellow, with a smile,—“to sell.”
Wodge and the Justice.
Hodge held a farm, and liv'd content,
For rent must come, when rent was due.
But luckless still, poor Hodge's fate!
the last and best, By sickness he had lost the rest. Hodge felt at heart resentment strong! The heart will feel that suffers long. A thought, that instant, took his head, And thus ithin himself he said : “ If Hodge, for once, don't fling the 'Squire, The village post him for a liar ! He said and 'cross his shoulder throws The fork, and to his landlord goes. “I come, thus early, to unfold “ What soon or late you must be told.
My bull (a creature tame till now) “My bull has gor'd your worship's cow. “ 'Tis known what shifts I make to live; “Perhaps your honour may forgive !"
“Forgive !" the 'Squire replied, and swore !
Think, sir, I'm poor, sir, as a rat!”
ONCE on a time, as holy authors say,
“ A prodigy I've seen :- last night a rat “ Eat my old shoe :—what think you, Sir, of that? “My wife is sick and hence I surely spy “ She will recover, or myself shall die.” Thus spake the knight, and thus the seer began, “ Your idle fears dispel, and be a man, “Rats will maraud; and if I augur true, “Nor death, nor disappointment thence ensue. “ If your old shoes, indeed, had eat the rat, “ I should have thought a prodigy in that,"
Ye belles, who of your beaux so fine
famed in court and city ;