The honest Grocer was in daily use, When he had din’d, to take a quiet snooze; Whilst his good Dame, whose anxious mind was fill’d With dread her dearest Johnny might be kill’d, Sat pensively, lamenting her sad case-- In burst her Son, and flew to her embrace: She sigh’d, she sobb’d, and press’d him to her breast, And all the Mother’s fondest love exprest. The honest Grocer, waking in amaze, Rubbing his eyes, did on our Hero gaze,-- ‘Why dang it now, do my old eyes tell true? ‘Is it my boy,--dear Johnny, is it you? ‘When did you come? how got you leave, my Boy? ‘Zounds! I’m so glad, I can’t contain my joy!’ John now explain’d how England he did reach; Th’ enraptur’d Parents hung upon his speech. His anxious Mother sadly now survey’d The alteration that disease had made; Saw his pale look, his sunk, and languid Eye, Then gently said (with a Maternal sigh), ‘I see you’re ill, my Son, with pain, and grief: ‘What shall we do to give our John relief?’ ‘Ah, Dame! your slops and stuffs I see no good in-- ‘Give him a belly-full of beef and pudding; ‘The Boy’s half-starv’d--o’drat that cursed Spain: ‘Thank God! my child’s come back alive again.’ [Illustration: _Johnny safe returned to his Mama._] Our John ’tween Dad and Mother took a Chair, And now more tranquil grew the happy pair; Related what he’d seen, and how he felt When first in action he the powder smelt: Then prattled on until old Dad was yawning-- When tucked up by Mamma, he slept till morning.