She's all that fancy painted her, she's rosy without rouge, Her gingham gown a modest brown turned up with bright gamboge; She learns to jar the light guitar, and plays the harpsi- chols, Her fortune's five-and-twenty pounds in Three per Cent Consols. At Beulah Spa, where love is law, was my fond heart beguiled; I pour'd my passion in her ear--she whisper'd, “Draw it mild!” In Clerkenwell you bear the bell: what muffin-man does not? And since, my Paul, you've gain'd your p'int, perhaps you 'll stand your pot. The Charlie quite, I've, honour bright, sent packing for a cheat; A watchman's wife, he'd whack me well when he was on his beat. “Adieu!” he said, and shook his head, “my dolor be your dow'r; And while you laugh, I 'll take my staff, and go and cry --the hour.” Last Greenwich Fair we wedded were; she's won, and we are one; And Sally, since the honey-moon, has had a little son. Of all the girls that are so smart, there's none than Sally smarter; I said it 'fore I married her, and now I say it _arter_. Geo. II. R. “This is to give notice to all gentlemen, ladies and others, that there is to be seen from eight in the morning till nine at night, at the end of the great booth on _Blackheath_, a west of England woman 38 years of age _alive_, with _two heads_, one above the other; having no hands, fingers, nor toes; yet can she dress and undress, knit, sew, read, sing,” _Query--a duet with her two mouths?_ “She has had the honour to be seen by Sir Hans Sloane, and several of the Royal Society. * “N.B. Gentlemen and ladies may see her at their own houses, if they please.