For want of cash he soon had pawn’d One half that he possess’d, And drinking show’d him _duplicates_ Beforehand of the rest! So now his creditors resolved To seize on his assets; For why,--they found that his _half-pay_ Did not _half-pay_ his debts. But Luff contrived a novel mode His Creditors to chouse; For his own _execution_ he Put into his own house! A pistol to the muzzle charged He took devoid of fear; Said he, “This _barrel_ is my last, So now for my last _bier_!” Against his lungs he aimed the slugs, And not against his brain, So he blew out his _lights_--and none Could blow them in again! A Jury for a Verdict met And gave it in these terms:-- “We find as how as certain _slugs_ Has sent him to the _worms_!” LOVE HAS NOT EYES. Of all the poor old Tobits a-groping in the street, A Lover is the blindest that ever I did meet, For he’s blind, he’s blind, he’s very blind,-- He’s as blind as any mole! He thinks his love the fairest that ever yet was clasp’d, Though her clay is overbaked, and it never has been rasp’d. For he’s blind, &c. He thinks her face an angel’s, although it’s quite a frump’s, Like a toad a-taking physic, or a monkey in the mumps. For he’s blind, &c. Upon her graceful figure then how he will insist, Though she’s all so much awry, she can only eat a twist! For he’s blind, &c. He’ll swear that in her dancing she cuts all others out, Though like a _Gal_ that’s galvanised, she throws her legs about. For he’s blind, &c. If he should have a letter in answer to his sighs, He’ll put it to his lips up, instead of to his eyes. For he’s blind, &c. Then if he has a meeting the question for to put, In suing for her hand he’ll be kneeling at her foot. For he’s blind, &c. Oh Love is like a furnace wherein a Lover lies, And like a pig before the fire, he scorches out his eyes. Till he’s blind, &c. A HAPPY NEW YEAR! “If the affairs of this world did not make us so sad, ’Twould be easy enough to be merry.”--OLD SONG. There is nothing but plague in this house! There’s the turbot is stole by the cat, The Newfoundland has eat up the grouse, And the haunch has been gnawed by a rat! It’s the day of all days when I wish That our friends should enjoy our good cheer; Mr. Wiggins--our dinner is dished-- But I wish you a happy New Year! Mr. Fudge has not called, but he will, For his Rates, Church, and Highway, and Poor; And the butcher has brought in his bill-- Twice as much as the quarter before. Little Charles is come home with the mumps, And Matilda with measles, I fear; And I’ve taken two sov’reigns like dumps-- But I wish you a happy New Year!