And thus discussing features, and questions to be met, We landed on the landing of lodging to be let. Upon the door with knuckle she struck a low rum-tin, And tardily was answered by husky voice "Come in." To purpose of her visit, he gave a mild assent, Which somewhat indicated a debt of backward rent. We entered the apartment, and gaunt, and wan, and scared! From tangle of the blankets, blear-eyed, and towsel-haired, A moment rose the lodger, then underneath the clothes, He snapped himself like oyster, and only left his nose. I took a swift synopsis, again we stepped the stair, She bowed me to her parlour, and all around me there, Were virtue objects, suited for curioso sale, Art of the reign of Louis, and good old Chippendale, Cameo ware of Wedgewood, and Worcester bric-a-brac, Miniatures of beauties, and oriental lac, A cabinet and tables, in marquetry of buhl, And feminine arrangements, of bombazine and tulle. Old mezzotint engravings of Regent, buck and lord, Between the window curtains, an agèd harpsichord.-- The instrument she fingered, and sang an olden rune, She sang with taste, but slightly, the strings were out of tune, She warbled of the Regent, of Sheridan and Burke, Buck Nash, and of Beau Brummel, and of the fatal work, Enacted in a duel, then struck a broken string, And with a sigh she faltered, and then she ceased to sing. I told her, composition of song, was in my line, Then, with a look intended as tender and divine, And mode of days of Brummel, in manner and in style, She lauded up the bedroom with captivating smile, Electro-biologic, magnetic in her glance, She fixed me like a medium, as tenant in advance! * * * * * I entered occupation, as soon as I could get, And everything in order, was for my comfort set, The room was daily garnished, and swept, my bed was made, In this was comprehended the lot for which I paid, My daily mastication, in public grill was frayed, Monotonous, and easy, with quiet self-content, I went and came in silence, in silence came and went, Was no domestic welcome when I came in, not one! And in the morning ditto, till I was up and gone. No sound of brush or bucket! no jar of door, or delph! No foot upon the stairs, except the pair I have myself! No smutty wench to greet me with cloud of dusty mat! No snarl of vicious lap dog, or hiss of humping cat! No slavey whiting up the steps, did ever strike my sight! Yet everything was fixed for me, when I came home at night! [Illustration]