The Works of Thomas Hood; Vol. 02 (of 11): Comic and Serious, in Prose and Verse, With All the Original IllustrationsHood, Thomas
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The Works of Thomas Hood; Vol. 02 (of 11): Comic and Serious, in Prose and Verse, With All the Original Illustrations
Hood, Thomas
English poetry -- 19th century; English wit and humor; Humorous poetry, English
How and ware it broke out is a mistery. Sum say both Howses was under
minded. Sum say the Common members got over heatid in there fluency.
A grate deal of property was burned, in spit of Lord Allthorp,
who ingaged every cotch, cab, and gobbing porter as conveyancers.
Westmunster may thenk his Lordship it did not lose its All. They say
the Lords and Communs was connectid with a grate menny historicle
associashuns, wich of coarse will hav to make good all dammage.
Fortnately, the Speker’s mornin, noon, and evning services of plait was
not at home, or it mite hav sufferd, for they say goold and silver as
stud the fire verry well, melted down when it got furthur off. Tauking
of plait a gentilman, who giv his card, Mr. William Soames, were verry
kind and partickler in his inquerries efter Mr. Speker’s vallybles. I
hope he will hav a place givn him for his indevvers.
Ware the poor burnt-out creturs will go noboddy nose. Sum say Exter
Hall, sum say the Refudge for the Destitut, and sum say the King will
lend them his Bensh to set upon! All I no is, I’ve had a frite that
will go with me to my grave. I am allways snifing fire by day and
dreeming on it by nite. Ony last Fryday I allarmd the hole naberhood by
screaching out of winder for the warter to be plugged up. Liting fires,
or striking lite, or making tindur, throes me into fits.
[Illustration: A REFINED WOMAN.]
I shall nevver be the womman I was; but that is no excus for John’s
unconstancy. I don’t dare to take my close off to go to bed, and I
practice clambering up and down by a rop in case, and I giv police M
25 a shillin now and than to keep a specious eye to number fore, and
be reddy to ketch anny won in his harms. But it cums to munny, and
particly givin the ingin keeper a pint of bear from time to time,
and drams to the turncox: where there’s nabers fires will happen,
howevver cerefull and precocius you may be youreself. I dred our too
nex dores; number three is a Gurmin fammily, and them orrid forriners
think nothink of smocking siggars in bed, witch will ketch sum day to
a curtainty. Number fiv is wus; since his wif’s deth Mr. Sanders has
betuck himself to comicle studis, and offin has a littel blo up amung
his pistles and morters. O! Mary, how happy is them as livs lick you,
as the song says, “Fur from the buzzy aunts of men.” If yu’re inflamd
its nobbody’s folt but youre hone. Pray take the gratest car. Have sure
eyes about you, and luck out for sparks; watever the men may say, don’t
allow backerpips or long snufs, and let evvery boddy be thurrowly put
out. Don’t neglect to rake out evvery nite, see that evvery sole in
the hows is turnd down or xtinguished, and allways blo yureself out
befour you go to yure piller. Thenk gudness you nevver larnd to reed,
and therefor will not take anny bucks to bed with you. Allways ware
stuff or woollin, insted of lite cottons and gingums, in case of the
coles throwin out coffens or pusses, by witch munny persons gains their
ends.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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