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"'Tis green, 'tis green, Sir, I assure ye”— "Green" cries the other in a fury"Why, Sir-d'ye think I've lost my eyes?" ""Twere no great loss,” the friend replies; "For, if they always serve you thus, "You'll find 'em but of little use." So high at last the contest rose, From words they almost came to blows: When luckily came by a thirdTo him the question they referr'd; And begg'd he'd tell 'em if he knew, Whether the thing was green or blue. "Sirs," cries the umpire, " cease your pother, "The creature's neither one nor t'other, "I caught the animal last night, "And view'd it o'er by candle light: "I mark'd it well-'twas black as jet "You stare-but Sirs, I've got it yet, "And can produce it." "Pray, Sir, do: "I'll lay my life the thing is blue." "And I'll be sworn, that when you've seen "The reptile, you'll pronounce him green." "Well then, at once to end the doubt," Replies the man, "I'll turn him out: "And when before your eyes I've set him, "If you don't find him black, I'll eat him." He said; then full before their sight Produc'd the beast, and lo!-'twas white. Merrick.

6.-The Newcastle Apothecary.

A MAN in many a country town we know,
Professing openly with death to wrestle:
Entering the field against the grimly foe,
Arm'd with a mortar and a pestle.

Yet some affirm, no enemies they are;
But meet just like prize-fighters in a fair:
Who first shake hands before they box,
Then give each other plaguy knocks,

With all the love and kindness of a brother.
So (many a suffering patient saith)
Though the Apothecary fights with death,
Still they're sworn friends to one another.

A member of the Esculapian line,
Liv'd at Newcastle-upon-Tyne;
No man could better gild a pill;
Or make a bill;

Or mix a draught, or bleed, or blister:
Or draw a tooth out of your head;
Or chatter scandal by your bed;

Or spread a plaster.

His fame full six miles round the country ran,
In short, in reputation he was solus !

All the old women call'd him "a fine man !"
His name was Bolus.

Benjamin Bolus, though in trade,

(Which often times will genius fetter,) Read works of fancy, it is said;

And cultivated the Belles Lettres.

And why should this be thought so odd?
Can't men have taste who cure a phthysic?
Of poetry though patron God,

Apollo patronises physic.

Bolus lov'd verse;-and took so much delight in't, That his prescriptions he resolv'd to write in't.

No opportunity he e'er let pass

Of writing the directions on his labels, In dapper couplets-like Gay's Fables; Or rather like the lines in Hudibras.

Apothecary's verse !-and where's the treason? 'Tis simply honest dealing;-not a crime; When patients swallow physic without reason, It is but fair to give a little rhyme.

He had a patient lying at Death's door,

Some three miles from the town, it might be four; To whom, one evening, Bolus sent an article,

In pharmacy, that's called cathartical.

And on the label of the stuff,

He wrote this verse;

Which one would think was clear enough

And terse.

"When taken,

"To be well shaken.”

Next morning, early, Bolus rose;
And to the patient's house he goes.
Upon his pad,

Who a vile trick of stumbling had :
It was indeed a very sorry hack;
But that's of course:

For what's expected from a horse,
With an apothecary on his back?

Bolus arriv'd, and gave a double tap;
Between a single and a double rap.

Knocks of this kind

Are given by gentlemen who teach to dance;
By fiddlers, and by opera singers:
One loud, and then a little one behind,
As if the knocker fell, by chance,
Out of their fingers.

The servant let him in, with dismal face,
Long as a courtier's out of place-

Portending some disaster;

John's countenance as rucful look'd, and grim,
As if the Apothecary had physick'd him,
And not his master.

"Well, how's the patient?" Bolus said.
John shook his head.

“Indeed ?—hum !-ha!--that's very odd,
"He took the draught?"-John gave nod!-

"Well-how?-What then?-Speak out you

dunce !"

"Why then," says John, " we shook him once."
"Shook him!-how?" Bolus stammer'd out:
"We jolted him about."

"Zounds !-shake a patient, man—a shake wont do."
"No Sir-and so we gave him two."
"Two shakes !-odds curse!

“'T would make the patient worse."

"It did so, Sir-and so a third we tried."

"Well, and what then?"" Then, Sir, my master

died."

Colman.

1.-Cheerfulness.

TRANQUILLITY appears by the composure of the countenance and general repose of the whole body, without the exertion of any one muscle. The countenance open, the forehead smooth, the eyebrows arched, the mouth just not shut, and the eyes passing with an easy motion from object to object, but not dwelling long upon any one. Cheerfulness adds a smile to tranquillity, and opens the mouth a little more.

Example.

Now my co-mates, and brothers in exile',

Hath not old custom made this' life more sweet

Than that of painted pomp'? Are not these woods'
More free from peril than the envious court'?
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam',
The season's difference'; as the icy fang
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind',
Which, when it bites and blows upon my body
Ev'n till I' shrink with cold', I smile and say,
This is no flattery'; these' are counsellors
That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Sweet' are the uses of adversity';

Which' like the toad', ugly and venomous',

Wears yet a precious jewel in its head';

And this our life', exempt from public haunts',

Finds tongues' in trees', books' in the running brooks',
Sermons' in stones, and good' in every` thing.

Shakespeare's As You Like it.

2.-Mirth.

MIRTH, or laughter, opens the mouth horizontally, raises the cheeks high, lessens the aperture of the eyes, and, when violent, shakes and convulses the whole frame, fills the eyes with tears, and occasions holding the sides from the pain the convulsive laughter gives them.

Example.

A FOOL!-a fool, I met a fool i' th' forest,
A motley fool;-a miserable varlet!—
As I do live by food, I met a fool ;-

Who laid him down, and bask'd him in the sun,
And rail'd on lady Fortune in good terms;

*In good set terms, and yet a motley fool:
Good-morrow, fool, quoth I; No, Sir, quoth he,

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