"The law my damage shall decide,
"And know that I'll be satisfied.'
"Think, sir, I'm poor, poor as a rat.
"Think, I'm a justice, think of that!"
Hodge bow'd again, and scratch'd his head,
And recollecting, archly said,

"Sir, I'm so struck, when here before ye,
"I fear, I blunder'd in my story.

""Fore George! but I'll not blunder now --
"Your's was the bull, sir! mine the cow!"
His worship found his rage subside,
And with calm accent thus replied,
"I'll think upon your case to-night--
"But, I perceive 'tis alter'd quite !"
Hodge shrugg'd, and make another bow,
"An' please ye, who's the justice now?"

VIZ, VIDELICET; OR, THE GIBLET PIE.

A gentleman being deputed to make choice of a house and to order an annual dinner for a party, determined upon one pleasantly situated on the banks of the Thames, in the village of Mortlake. Having agreed with the landlord as to terms, and the precise dishes that were to be placed on the table, the gentleman informed him, that, in the event of the party being likewise satisfied, he would transmit him a letter by post, naming the day, &c. Their consent being signified, the gentleman accordingly wrote, stating, that on such a day he might expect the company, to the number of twenty-two, at so much per head; and, to guard against any misunderstanding, thought it prudent to recapitulate the dishes previously agreed upon, beginning, viz. Fish, veal, ham, &c."

By return of post the landlord returned the following curious answer :—

Sir, I received your commands, but I don't know what you mean by Videlicet, as I did not hear you mention it when you was at Mortlake. Every thing else shall be obeyed. Your's to command.———

MORTLAKE, July 4.

This letter, of course, afforded considerable mirth to the party who perused it--but it appeared to the gentleman strange that the landlord should be incapable of understanding the contraction, and yet write the word at length, though improperly spelt. The following dialogue, however, which actually took place, upon the receipt of the letter, at which time the landlord, his wife, and the writer were in the bar, will best elucidate the subject:-" Why, wife, did you ever hear me mention such a dish as viz. when the gentleman was down here ordering the dinner?"" Lor", husband, no ; what is viz?" A gentleman who had just paid the waiter, for his morning beverage, hearing the last question, politely answered "It means Videlicet, madām,” and passed on. Here the host was again at a pause," when he suddenly exclaimed, " And what is Videlicet? I never heard of such a dish in all my life." "Nor I, husband, though I have lived in the first families-aye, and where every kind of made dish has been sent to table." "Thomas, do you know what is Videlicet ?" "No, sir, but I suppose it's some of those new-fangled dishes that the French are so fond of. I'll ask in the kitchen." The inquries in the kitchen were equally unsuccessful; but Thomas, upon recollection, thought he had heard of a fish of that name. To the river the landlord immediately proceeded; all the river fishermen were, in turn, applied to, but all were equally positive that Videlicet did not grow in the river Thames, or else they must have caught himperhaps it might be a salt-water fish; but that opinion was not supported by the landlady, who declared that if Videlicet was any thing, it was a made dish; and, not to expose their ignorance, they agreed to apologize, and make no further inquiries.

On the day of the dinner, which, to do the landlord credit, was excellent, the idea of vix was not forgotten; the inquiries for it were so frequent, that the landlord, who waited in person, thought proper, with many apologies, to express his regret that he had not been able to procure it in time-the letter came too late

the notice was so short--but, desirous to oblige, he had placed on the table, in its stead, a giblet pie.

This explanation produced such an involuntary, such a general burst of laughter, that all sensibly felt for the landlord's embarrassment, from which, however, he was adroitly relieved by one of the party observing, "Why, really, Mr. B., I admire your substitution; your giblet pie is excellent, and so like videlicet, that I shall never eat of the one without thinking upon the other."

HOHENLINDEN.

On Linden, when the sun was low,
All bloodless lay the untrodden snow,
And dark as winter was the flow
Of Iser, rolling rapidly.

But Linden saw another sight,
When the drum beat at dead of night,
Commanding fires of death to light
The darkness of her scenery.

By torch and trumpet fast arrayed,
Each horseman drew his battle-blade,
And furious every charger neighed,
To join the dreadful revelry.

Then shook the hills with thunder riven,
Then rushed the steeds to battle driven,
And louder than the bolts of heaven,
Far flashed the red artillery.

And redder yet those fires shall glow,
On Linden's hills of blood-stained snow,
And darker yet shall be the flow
Of Iser, rolling rapidly.

"Tis morn! but scarce yon lurid sun
Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun,
Where furious Frank and fiery Hun,

Shout in their sulph'rous canopy.

The combat deepens. On, ye brave,
Who rush to glory, or the grave!
Wave, Munich, all thy banners wave!
And charge with all thy chivalry!
Ah! few shall part where many meet!
The snow shall be their winding-sheet,
And every turf beneath their feet
Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.

THE COUUNTRYMAN AND RAZOR-SELLER. A fellow, in a market town,

Most musical, called razors up and down,
And offer'd twelve for eighteen-pence;
Which certainly seem'd wond'rous cheap,
And, for the money, quite a heap,

As ev'ry man would buy, with cash and sense.
A country bumpkin the great offer heard;
Poor Hodge, who suffer'd by a broad black beard.
That seem'd a shoe-brush stuck beneath his nose;
With cheerfulness the eighteen-pence he paid,
And proudly to himself in whispers said,

"This rascal stole the razors,

suppose.

No matter if the fellow be a knave,
Provided that the razors shave,

It certainly will be a monstrous prize."

So home the clown with his good fortune went,
Smiling, in heart and soul content,

And quickly soap'd himself to ears and eyes.
Being well lather'd from a dish or tub,

Hodge now began, with grinning pain, to grub,
Just like a hedger cutting furze;

"Twas a vile razor !-then the rest he triedAll were impostors-'Ah!' Hodge sigh'd, "I wish my eighteen-pence within my purse." In vain, to chase his beard, and bring the graces,

He cut, and dug, and winced, and stamp'd, and swore; Brought blood, and danced, blasphemed, and made wry And cursed each razor's body o'er and o'er. [faces,

His muzzle, form'd of opposition stuff,
Firm as a Foxite, would not lose its ruff;
So kept it-laughing at the steel and suds.
Hodge, in a passion, stretch'd his angry jaws,
Vowing the direst vengeance with clench'd claws,
On the vile cheat that sold the goods.

'Razors !-a vile confounded dog-
Not fit to scrape a hog!'

Hodge sought the fellow-found him-and begun,
P'rhaps, Master Razor-rogue, to you 'tis fun,
That people flay themselves out of their lives:
You rascal! for an hour have I been grubbing,
Giving my crying whiskers here a scrubbing,
With razors just like oyster-knives.

Sirrah! I tell you, you're a knave,
To cry up razors that won't shave.
"Friend,' quoth the razor man, 'I'm not a knave:
As for the razors you have bought,

Upon my soul I never thought

That they would shave.'

'Not think they'd shave?' quoth Hodge with wond'ring

eyes,

And voice not much unlike an Indian yell,

"What were they made for then, you dog?' he cries. 'Made!' quoth the fellow, with a smile

to sell!'

THE YORKSHIREMAN AND HIS FAMILY.

A Yorkshireman saluted the guard of the coach with, "I say, Mr. Guard, have you a gentleman from Lunnun in coach ?" "How should I know?" said the guard. "Well," said he, "I am ganging about four miles whoam, and I'll gang inside if you please, and then I can find him out mysen." On being admitted into the coach, when seated, he addressed himself to the person opposite him, and said, "Pray, sir, ay'nt you from Lun"Yes," said the gentleman. "Pray, sir, ay'nt

nun !"

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