On Ludgate Hill, a traveller may see John _Newcome_, Grocer, No. Fifty-three; Now, sober reader, don’t turn up your nose, But profit by the truths I shall disclose. The _Newcome_ family, you may believe, Straitways descended from good Madam Eve; Adam, a _Newcome_, when in Paradise, The wily serpent did Dame Eve entice To touch forbidden fruit; and to his shame, Poor Adam _Newcome_ slily did the same: For this, from Paradise they soon were hurl’d, And thus Cain _Newcome_ came into the World. ’Twould be an endless job were I to trace All the descendants of the _Newcome_ race: Let it suffice that I curtail my rhymes, To scenes connected with the present Times. Widely extended is the _Newcome_ Name, Some scoff’d for Folly, some renown’d for Fame; Did we in Foreign Courts but look askance, We find they’ve play’d the very Devil in France. Each in his turn assum’d the Sovereign Sway, ’Till Boney _Newcome_ drove them all away; Mighty in deeds, his Mighty power evinces, And makes his tribes of _Newcomes_ Kings and Princes. Louis to Holland went with State Regalia, And silly Jerome king’d it at Westphalia: Poor foolish Joe went slily into Spain, But Paddy _Newcome_ whipt him out again. Ah! Honey, that’s a _Newcome_, if you please, Makes Boney tremble in his Thuilleries. His fame--but, let me onward with my story, My humble rhymes would only mock his Glory. In London _Newcomes_ every where are seen, _Newcome’s_ a Lord, a General, Knight or Dean-- _Newcomes_, where’er you go, you’re sure to meet, The Park, the Playhouse, or St. James’s Street. Amongst our Quality, you’ll find a few, And Carlton House has got its _Newcome_ too. At both the Universities you find ’em, But in such numbers that they never mind ’em. In all Professions, Lawyers, Fiddlers, Bards, Lots in the Line, and many in the Guards. This leads me to the subject of my story, Tho’ first I thought it right to lay before ye, By way of preface, or of introduction, Or, if you please, a smattering of instruction; Go as you will, no matter when, or where, You’re sure to see a Johnny _Newcome_ there. Now this same Grocer was a man of weight, Eat turtle soup, and talked of Church and State,-- For twenty years had bustled well through life, Blest with one son by Doll his loving Wife: The Youth, a lankey, awkward, shuffling Blade, Bred by the old ones to pursue the Trade, School’d by Mamma, who thought all learning stuff, ‘Young John will have the Cash, and that’s enough.’ By Martial ardour fired, John scorn’d to stop And retail sugar in his father’s Shop! In spite of Daddy’s wrath, and Mother’s tears, Strutted an Ensign in the Volunteers; But the good souls were quickly reconcil’d In admiration of their darling Child. Old Johnny seem’d afraid he’d be too rash, But Mother doated on the Sword, and Sash. Soon Johnny grew ambitious of renown,