Two gentlemen their appetite had fed, When opening his toothpick-case, one said, "It was not until lately that I knew That anchovies on terrâ firmâ grew." W. B. WAKE. "Grow!” cried the other, "yes, they grow, indeed, Like other fish, but not upon the land; You might as well say grapes grow on a reed, Or in the Strand!" “Why, sir,” returned the irritated other, "My brother, When at Calcutta Beheld them bonâ fide growing; He wouldn't utter A lie for love or money, sir; so in This matter you are thoroughly mistaken." "Nonsense, sir! nonsense! I can give no credit To the assertion-none e'er saw or read it; Your brother, like his evidence, should be shaken." "Be shaken, sir! let me observe, you are Perverse-in short-" "Sir," said the other, sucking his cigar, And then his port "If you will say impossibles are true, You may affirm just anything you please That swans are quadrupeds, and lions blue, "Then you force me to say, sir, you're a fool," Language like this no man can suffer cool: So, thunder-stricken, he at once replied, Who had the impudence to tell it you ;" face "Zounds! then d'ye mean to swear before my That anchovies don't grow like cloves and mace?" "I do!" Disputants often after hot debates Leave the contention as they found it-bone, And take to duelling or thumping têtes; Thinking by strength of artery to atone For strength of argument; and he who winces From force of words, with force of arms convinces ! With pistols, powder, bullets, surgeons, lint, Seconds, and smelling-bottles, and foreboding, And they did fight: from six full measured paces Ran up, and with a duelistic fear (His ire evanishing like morning vapors), Found him possessed of one remaining ear, Who in a manner sudden and uncouth, Had given, not lent, the other ear to truth; 39* AN ECHO. NEVER sleeping, still awake, Pleasing most when most I speak; Like the laborers of Babel. Now I am a dog, or cow, Drums and trumpets bring me out: Join in all the din of battle. Jove, with all his loudest thunder, Yet so tender is my ear, That the lowest voice I fear; Much I dread the courtier's fate, When his merit's out of date, For I hate a silent breath, ANONYMOUS. ON FACTOTUM NED. HERE lies Factotum Ned at last: Whoe'er was in, whoe'er was out Whatever statesmen did or said THOMAS MOORE. If not exactly brought about, Was all, at least, contrived by Ned. With Nap if Russia went to war, 'Twas owing, under Providence, To certain hints Ned gave the Czar(Vide his pamphlet-price six pence). If France was beat at Waterloo As all, but Frenchmen, think she wasTo Ned, as Wellington well knew, Was owing half that day's applause. Then for his news-no envoy's bag E'er passed so many secrets through it— Scarcely a telegraph could wag Its wooden finger, but Ned knew it. Such tales he had of foreign plots, With foreign names one's ear to buzz inFrom Russia chefs and ofs in lots, From Poland owskis by the dozen. When George, alarmed for England's creed, For though, by some unlucky miss, He had not downright seen the King, He sent such hints through Viscount This, To Marquis That, as clenched the thing. The same it was in science, arts, The drama, books, MS. and printedKean learned from Ned his cleverest parts, And Scott's last work by him was hinted. Childe Harold in the proofs he read, And, here and there, infused some soul in' Nay, Davy's lamp, till seen by Ned, Had-odd enough-a dangerous hole in't. 'Twas thus, all doing and all knowing, Wit, statesman, boxer, chemist, singer, |