I had a Gig-Horse, and I called him Pleasure, Because on Sundays, for a little jaunt, He was so fast and showy, quite a treasure; Although he sometimes kicked, and spied aslant. I had a Chaise, and christened it Enjoyment, With yellow body, and the wheels of red, Because ’twas only used for one employment, Namely, to go wherever Pleasure led. I had a wife, her nickname was Delight; A son called Frolic, who was never still: Alas! how often dark succeeds to bright! Delight was thrown, and Frolic had a spill, Enjoyment was upset and shattered quite, And Pleasure fell a splitter on _Paine’s Hill_! A SERIO-COMIC REMINISCENCE. It seems but the other day--instead of nearly ten years ago--that my drawing-room door opened, and the female servant, with a very peculiar expression of countenance, announced a memorable visitor. Shakspeare has enquired “What is there in a name?” But most assuredly he would have withdrawn the question could he have seen the effect of a patronymic on our Sarah’s risible muscles. To render the phenomenon more striking, she was a maiden little addicted to the merry mood: on the contrary, she was rather more sedate than her age warranted. Her face was of a cast decidedly serious--quiet brow--steady eyes--sober nose--precise mouth, and solemn chin, which she doubled by drawing it in demurely against her neck. The habitual expression of her physiognomy was as grave, short of actual sadness, as human face could assume, reminding you of those set, solid, composed, very decorous visages, that indifferent persons put on for the day at a funeral: her very complexion was uniformly colourless--pale yet not clear--that _slack-baked_ look which forbids the idea of levity. When she smiled, which was rarely, and in cases where most females of her years would have indulged in a titter, or excusable laugh, it was the faintest possible approach to hilarity--the corners of her mouth curving, if anything a little downwards. Nothing, in fact, less than galvanism, which “sets corpses a-grinning,” seemed likely to shock her features into any broad demonstration of jocularity, and yet, lo! there she was, her face shortened by half its length--her mouth stretching from ear to ear, and hardly able, for a suppressed giggle, to articulate its brief announcement. [Illustration: PLEASE, SIR! HERE’S MR. GRIMALDI!!!!]