How do the Gentlemen do after marriage?— Oh, then nothing pleases 'em, But everything teases 'em; Then they're grumbling and snarling— You're a "fool" not a "darling;" Though they're rich as the _Ingies_, They're the stingiest of stingies; And what is _so_ funny, They've _never_ got money; Only ask them for any And they haven't a penny; But what passes all bounds, On themselves they'll spend pounds— Give guineas for lunch Off real turtle and punch; Each week a noise brings about, when they pitch all the things about; Now bowing in mockery, now smashing the crockery; Scolding and swearing, their bald heads tearing; Storming and raging past all assuaging. Heaven preserve us! it makes one so nervous, To hear the door slam to, be called simple Ma'am too: (I wonder if Adam called Mrs. Eve Madam;) As a matter of course they'll have a divorce; Or "my Lord Duke" intends to send you home to your friends: Allow ten pounds a quarter for yourself and your daughter; Though you strive all your might you can do nothing right; While the maids—the old song—can do nothing wrong; "Ev'ry shirt wants a button!" Every day they've cold mutton; They're always a-flurrying one, or else they're a-hurrying one, or else they're a-worrying one; Threatening to smother your dear sainted Mother, or kick your big Brother; After all your fine doings, your strugglings and stewings—why, "the house is in ruins!" Then the wine goes like winking, and they cannot help thinking you've taken to drinking; They're perpetually rows keeping, 'cause out of the house-keeping they're in bonnets their spouse keeping; So when they've been meated, if with pies they're not treated, they vow that they're cheated; Then against Ascot Races, and all such sweet places, they set their old faces; And they'll never leave town, nor to Broadstairs go down, though with bile you're quite brown; For their wife they unwilling are, after cooing and billing her, to stand a cap from a Milliner—e'en a paltry twelve shillinger; And it gives them the vapours to witness the capers of those bowers and scrapers the young linendrapers; Then to add to your woes, they say nobody knows how the money all goes, but they pay through the nose for the dear children's clothes; Though you strive and endeavour, they're so mightily clever, that please them you'll never, till you leave them for ever—yes! the hundredth time sever—"_for ever_—AND EVER"!! Now the gentlemen sure I've no wish to disparage, But this is the way they go on _after_ marriage. [Illustration: "I SINK YOU DID SAY, MADAME, YOU SHALL TAKE VON COBBLARE AND A LEETEL BEESHOFE TO FOLLOW." ] ANACREONTIC IN PRAISE OF "SHERRY COBBLERS," BY A LADY OF QUALITY.