QUITE raw was Alice; for his purpose fit; Not overburdened with a store of wit; Of this indeed she could not be accused, And Cupid's wiles by her were never used; Poor lady, all with her was honest part, And naught she knew of stratagem or art. HER husband then away, and she alone, This neighbour came, and in a whining tone, To her observed, when compliments were o'er:-- I'm all astonishment, and you deplore, To find that neighbour William's gone from hence, And left your child's completing in suspense, Which now you bear within, and much I fear, That when 'tis born you'll find it wants an ear. Your looks sufficiently the fact proclaim, For many instances I've known the same. Good heav'ns! replied the lady in a fright; What say you, pray?--the infant won't be right! Shall I be mother to a one-eared child? And know you no relief that's certain styled? Oh yes, there is, rejoined the crafty knave, From such mishap I can the baby save; Yet solemnly I vow, for none but you I'd undertake the toilsome job to do. The ills of others, if I may be plain, Except your husband's, never give me pain; But him I'd serve for ever, while I've breath; To do him good I'd e'en encounter death. Now let us see, without more talk or fears, If I know how to forge the bantling ears. Remember, cried the wife, to make them like. Leave that to me, said he, I'll justly strike. Then he prepared for work; the dame gave way; Not difficult she proved:--well pleased she lay; Philosophy was never less required, And Andrew's process much the fair admired, Who, to his work extreme attention paid; 'Twas now a tendon; then a fold he made, Or cartilage, of which he formed enough, And all without complaining of the stuff. To-morrow we will polish it, said he: Then in perfection soon the whole will be; And from repeating this so oft, you'll get As perfect issue as was ever met. I'm much obliged to you, the wife replied, A friend is good in whom we may confide.