From that moment his heart was in Cupid’s net caught, She encouraged his visits, but just as he thought To make her his own, as she’d given her word, A rival he found in a tailor,--Good Lord! One night, unexpected, he popped in to see How she was, when the tailor was sitting at tea, Now, Sally, says he, turn him out if you can, Don’t you know that he’s but the ninth part of a man? The Tailor’s blood now, beginning to rise, He swelled himself up to near double his size, And he told him he wished that he never might squint, But he’d pummel him well for his _barbarous_ hint. Now, Sally, she said she was sorely perplexed, To know, which of the two she could fancy the best, And to see them go quarrel for her she was loth, For she thought she could very well manage them both. They told her, that certainly wouldn’t be right, But to see which would have her, they’d willingly fight, Then to settle the job, they went in the next room, And Sal, with a cobbler, jumped over a broom.[27] _WERY PEKOOLIAR, OR THE LISPING LOVERS._ HAVE you e’er been in love,--If you havn’t, I have, To the little God Koopid I’ve been a great thlave, He thot in my bothom, a quiver of arrowth, Like thmall naughty boyth, thoot Cock Robinth and Thparrowth, My heart wath pure ath the white alabathter, Till Koopid, my bothom, he did over mathter, Then tell me, ye Godth! how I love one Mith Thulia, There wath thomething about her tho vewy pekooliar. We firtht met at a ball, where our handth did entwine, Where I did thweedge her fingerth, and the did thweedge mine; When for my necth partner, I ventured to preth her, When I found that the lithped, when the anthered me “Yeth, thir.” Now in lithping, I think, there ith thomething uncommon, And I loveth in partickler, the lithph of a woman, And I’m thure you’d have liked the lithph of Mith Thulia, There wath thomething about it tho vewy pekooliar. Like a beautiful peach, wath the cheek of Mith Thulia, And then, in her eye, there wath thomething pekooliar, Thpeaking volumeth, it darted, each glanthe to one’th marrow, Ath keen and ath thwift, ath the wicked boy’th arrow. A thlight catht in her eye,--to her lookth added vigour, A catht in the eye, often tendth to dithfigure: But not though the catht in the eye of Mith Thulia, There wath thomething about it tho vewy pekooliar. Good friendth, we oft met, midth thmileth and midth tearth, I courted her nearly for three or four yearth, I took her to playth, and to ba11th--O! ye Powerth. How thweetly and thwiftly did then path my hourth; But oneth--oh, e’en now--I my feelingth can’t thmother, The danthed, all the evening, along with another, I didn’t thay nothing that night to Mith Thulia, Though I couldn’t help thinking ’twath vewy pekooliar.