But I warrants you reads (for you cant spel we nose) nyther Bybills or Good Tracks, Or youd no better than Taking the Close off one’s Backs-- And let your neighbours Oxin an Asses alone,-- And every Thing thats hern,--and give every one their Hone! Well, its God for us All, and every Washer Wommen for herself, And so you might, without shoving any on us off the shelf, But if you warnt Noddis youd Let wommen a-be And pull off your Pattins,--and leave the washing to we That nose what’s what--Or mark what I say, Youl make a fine Kittle of fish of Your Close some Day-- When the Aulder men wants Their Bibs and their ant nun at all, And Crismass cum--and never a Cloth to lay in Gild Hall, Or send a damp shirt to his Woship the Mare Till hes rumatiz Poor Man, and cant set uprite to do good in his Harm Chare-- Besides Miss-Matching Larned Ladys Hose, as is sent for you not to wash (for you dont wash) but to stew And make Peples Stockins yeller as oght to be Blew, With a vast more like That,--and all along of Steem Which warnt meand by Nater for any sich skeam-- But thats your Losses and youl have to make It Good, And I cant say I’m sorry, afore God, if you shoud, For men mought Get their Bread a great many ways Without taking ourn,--aye, and Moor to your Prays, You might go and skim the creme off Mr. Mack-Adam’s milky ways--that’s what you might, Or bete Carpets--or get into Parleamint,--or drive crabrolays from morning to night, Or, if you must be of our sects, be Watchemen, and slepe upon a poste! (Which is an od way of sleping I must say,--and a very hard pillow at most,) Or you might be any trade, as we are not on that I’m awares, Or be Watermen now, (not Water wommen) and roe people up and down Hungerford stares. If You Was even to Turn Dust Men a dry sifting Dirt, But you oughtint to Hurt Them as never Did You no Hurt! Yourn with Anymocity, BRIDGET JONES. THE BLUE BOAR. ’Tis known to man, ’tis known to woman, ’Tis known to all the world in common, How politics and party strife Vex public, even private, life; But, till some days ago, at least They never worried brutal beast. I wish you could have seen the creature, A tame domestic boar by nature, Gone wild as boar that ever grunted, By Baron Hoggerhausen hunted. His back was up, and on its ledge The bristles rose like quickset hedge; His eye was fierce and red as coal, Like furnace, shining through a hole, And restless turn’d for mischief seeking; His very hide with rage was reeking; And oft he gnash’d his crooked tusks, Chewing his tongue instead of husks, Till all his jaw was white and yesty, Showing him savage, fierce, and resty.