if you only look at him; his nose turns up; his mouth is drawn into wrinkles, so as to show his teeth; in short, he has altogether the look of a dog far gone in misanthropy, and totally sick of the world. When he walks, he has his tail curled up so tight, that it seems to lift his feet from the ground; and he seldom makes use of more than three legs at a time, keeping the other drawn up as a reserve. This last wretch is called Beauty!

These dogs are full of elegant ailments unknown to vulgar dogs; and are petted and nursed by Lady Lillycraft with the tenderest kindness. They are pampered and fed with delicacies by their fellow minion, the page; but their stomachs are often weak and out of order, so that they cannot eat; though I have now and then seen the page give them a mischievous pinch, or thwack over the head, when his mistress was not by. They have cushions for their express use, on which they lie before the fire, and yet are apt to shiver and moan, if there is the least draught of air. When any one enters the room, they make a most tyrannical barking that is absolutely deafening. They are insolent to all the other dogs of the establishment. There is a noble stag-hound, a great favourite of the squire's, who is a privileged visitor to the parlour; but the moment he makes his appearance, these intruders fly at him with furious rage; and I have admired the sovereign indifference and contempt with which he seems to look down upon his puny assailants. When her ladyship drives out, these dogs are generally, carried with her to take the air; when they look out of each window of the carriage, and bark at all vulgar pedestrian dogs. These dogs are a continual source of misery to the household; as they are always in the way, they every now and then get their toes trod on, and then there is a yelping on their part, and a lamentation on the part of their mistress, that fills the room with clamour and confusion.

Lastly, there is her ladyship's waiting-woman, Mrs. Hannah, a prim, pragmatical old maiden, whose every word

and look smacks of verjuice. She is the very opposite to her mistress, for the one hates, and the other loves, all mankind. How they first came together I cannot imagine; but they have lived together for many years; and the abigail's temper being tart and encroaching, and her ladyship's easy and yielding, the former has got the complete upper hand, and tyrannizes over the good lady in secret. Lady Lillycraft now and then complains of it, in great confidence, to her friends, but hushes up the subject immediately, if Mrs. Hannah makes her appearance. Indeed, she has been so accustomed to be attended by her, that she thinks she could not do without her; and the one great study of her life is, to keep Mrs. Hannah in good humour by little presents and kindnesses.

Master Simon has a most devout abhorrence, mingled with awe, for this ancient spinster. He told me the other day, in a whisper, that she was a cursed brimstone-in fact, he added another epithet, which I would not repeat for the world. I have remarked, however, that he is always extremely civil to her when they meet.

VII.-CONTEST BETWEEN THE EYES AND THE NOSE.

BETWEEN Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose,
The spectacles set them unhappily wrong;
The point in dispute was, as all the world knows,
To which the said spectacles ought to belong.

So the Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause
With a great deal of skill, and a wig-full of learning;
While chief baron Ear sat to balance the laws,

So famed for his talent in nicely discerning. "In behalf of the Nose, it will quickly appear,

And your Lordship," he said, "will undoubtedly find, That the Nose has had spectacles always in wear, Which amounts to possession time out of mind.”

Then, holding the spectacles up to the Court

"Your Lordship observes they are made with a straddle, As wide as the ridge of the Nose is; in short, Design'd to sit close to it, just like a saddle. "Again, would your Lordship a moment suppose— 'Tis a case that has happen'd, and may be again— That the visage or countenance had not a Nose,

Pray, who would, or who could wear spectacles then? "On the whole, it appears, and my argument shows,

With a reasoning the Court will never condemn,
That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose,
And the Nose was as plainly intended for them.”
Then shifting his side, as a lawyer knows how,
He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes;
But what were his arguments few people know.
For the Court did not think they were equally wise.
So his Lordship decreed, with a grave solemn tone,
Decisive and clear without one if or but,
That whenever the Nose put his Spectacles on-
By day-light or candle-light-Eyes should be shut.

VIII. THE NEWCASTLE APOTHECARY.

A MAN in many a country town we know

Professing openly with Death to wrestle;
Entering the field against the grimly foe,

Arm'd with a mortar and a pestle.

Yet some affirm, no enemies they are;
But meet just like prize-fighters in a fair,
Who first shake hands before they box,
Then give each other plaguy knocks,
With all the love and kindness of a brother:
So (many a suffering patient saith)

Though the apothecary fights with Death,
Still they're sworn friends to one another.

A member of this Esculapian line,
Lived at Newcastle-upon-Tyne:
No man could better gild a pill;
Or make a bill;
Or mix a draught, or bleed, or blister;
Or draw a tooth out of your head;
Or chatter scandal by your
bed;
Or spread a plaster.

His fame full six miles round the country ran,
In short, in reputation he was solus!
All the old women call'd him "a fine man!"
His name was Bolus.

Benjamin Bolus, though in trade,

Which oftentimes will genius fetter) Read works of fancy, it is said,

And cultivated the Belles-lettres.

And why should this be thought so odd?
Can't men have taste that cure a phthisic?
Of poetry though patron god,

Apollo patronizes physic.

Bolus loved verse; and took so much delight in't, That his prescriptions he resolved to write in't: No opportunity he e'er let pass

Of writing the directions on his labels, In dapper couplets-like Gay's Fables, Or rather like the lines in Hudibras.

Apothecary's verse !—and where's the treason?
"Tis simple honest dealing;-not a crime;
When patients swallow physic without reason,
It is but fair to give a little rhyme.
He had a patient lying at death's door,
Some three miles from the town-it might be four;
To whom one evening Bolus sent an article-
In pharmacy, that's call'd cathartical:

And on the label of the stuff
He wrote this verse,

Which one should think was clear enough

Are given by gentlemen who teach to dance;
By fiddlers, and by opera-singers:
One loud, and then a little one behind,
As if the knocker fell by chance
Out of their fingers.

The servant let him in with dismal face,
Long as a courtier's out of place—
Portending some disaster,
John's countenance as rueful look'd and grim,
As if the apothecary had physic'd him,

And not his master.

"Well, how's the patient?" Bolus said.
John shook his head.
"Indeed?-hum!-ha!-that's very odd,
He took the draught ?"—John gave a nod.

"Well-how ?-What then?-Speak out, you dunce!"

Why then," says John," we shook him once."