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CHIT-CHAT.

AN IMITATION OF THEOCRITUS.

IDYLL. XV. Evdor Igažiroc, &c.

BY ROBERT LLOYD.

MRS. BROWN.

Is Mistress Scot at home, my dear ?

SERVANT.

MA'm, is it you ? I'm glad you're here.
My Misess, tho' resolv'd to wait,
Is quite unpatient'tis fo late.
She fancy'd you would not come down,
-But pray

walk in, MA'M-Mrs. Brown.

5

MRS. SCOT.

Your servant, MADAM. Well, I swear
I'd giv'n you over--Child, a chair.
Pray, Ma'm, be seated.

MRS. BROWN.

10

Lard ! my dear,
I vow I'm almost dead with fear.
There is such [crouging and such Squeeging,
The folks are all so disobliging;

* Born 1733; dyed 1764.

15

And then the waggons, carts and drays
So clog up all these narrow ways,
What with the bustle and the throng,
I wonder how I got along.
Besides the walk is so immense
Not that I grudge a coach expence,
But then it jumbles me to death,

- And I was always short of breath. How can you live so far, my dear? It's quite a journey to come here.

20

MRS. SCOT.

Lard ! Ma'm, I left it all to Him,
Husbands, you know, will have their whim.
He took this house.—This house! this den.- 25
See but the temper of some men.
And I, forsooth, am hither hurld,
To live quite out of all the world.
Husband, indeed !

MRS. BROWN,

Hift! lower, pray, The child hears

every

word See how he looks

you say.

30

MRS. SCOT.

Jacky, come here, There's a good boy, look up, my dear. ?Twas not papa we talk'd about. -Surely he cannot find it out.

35

MRS. BROWN. See how the urchin holds his hands. Upon my life he understands.

- There's a sweet child, come, kiss me, come, Will Jacky have a sugar-plumb ?

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40

This Person, MADAM, (call him so,
And then the child will never know)
From house to house would ramble out,
And every night a drunken-bout.
For at a tavern he will spend
His twenty thillings with a friend.
Your rabbits fricasseed and chicken,
With curious choice of dainty picking,
Each night got ready at the Crown,
With port and punch to wash 'em down,
Would scarcely serve this belly-glutton,
Whilst we must starve on mutton, mutton.

45

50

MRS. BROWN.

My good man too-Lord bless us! Wives
Are born to lead unhappy lives,-
Altho' his profits bring him clear
Almost two hundred pounds a year,
Keeps me of cash so short and bare,
That I have not a gown to wear ;
Except my robe, and yellow fack,
And this old lutestring on my back.

55

-But we've no time, my dear, to waste.
Come, where's your cardinal, make hafte. 60
The King, God bless his majesty, I say,
Goes to the house of lords to-day,
In a fine painted coach and eight,
And rides along in all his state.
And then the QUEEN-

MRS. SCOT.

Aye, aye, you know, 65
Great folks can always make a show.
But tell me, do I've never seen
Her present majesty, the QUEEN.

MRS. BROWN.

Lard! we've no time for talking now,
Hark!-one-two-three-'tis twelve I vow. 70

MRS. SCOT.

75

Kitty, my things-I'll foon have done,
It's time enough, you know, at one.
-Why, girl ! see how the creature stands !
Some water here, to wash my

hands.
-Be quick-why sure the gipsy sleeps !
-Look how the drawling daudle creeps.
That bason there-why don't you pour?
Go on, I say-stop, stop-no more-
Lud! I could beat the huffey down,
She's pour'd it all upon my gown.
-Bring me my ruffles—can'ft not mind ?
And pin my handkerchief behind.

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Sure thou hast aukwardness enough,
Go-fetch my gloves, and fan, and muff.
-Well, heav'n be prais'd-this work is done, 85
I'm ready now, my dear-let's run.
Girl,-put that bottle on the shelf,
And bring me back the key yourself.

MRS. BROWN.

That clouded silk becomes you much,
I wonder, how you meet with such,
But you've a charming taste in dress.
What might it cost you, Madam?

90

MRS. SCOT.

Guess.

MRS. BROWN.

95

Oh! that's impossible--for I
Am in the world the worst to buy.

MRS. SCOT.
I never love to bargain hard,
Five shillings, as I think, a yard.
-I was afraid it should be

gone'Twas what I'd fet

my
heart

upon.

MRS. BROWN.

100

Indeed you bargain’d with success,
For its a most delightful dress.
Besides, it fits you to a hair,
And then 'tis nop'd with such an air.

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