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 to see ma; so I went to see poor Betty, and she said, "Richard, if I shou'd dee, thee'd goo to my burying, wou'dn't thee?" and I said, I nowd'nt not, haply I mought, so I said I wou'd, and I did, and I went to her burying, for poor Betty deed; and I ne'er goo through Hickleton churchyard without dropping a tear to the memory of poor Betty Hunt.

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THE THRIVING TRADESMEN.

When a couple of broom-men had chatted one day On a number of things in a sociable way, A new subject they started. Says Jack, "My friend Joe,              I have long been most plaguedly puzzled to know               How you manage to sell brooms cheaper than mine,               As I steal the materials." --"I like your design," Replied Joe; "but improvement's the soul of a trade:              All the brooms I dispose of, I steal ready made."

T H E L A D I E S' P E T I T I O N

Dear Doctor, let it not transpire How much your lectures we admire; How at your eloquence we wonder, When you explain the cause of thunder, Of lightning, and of electricity, With so much plainness and simplicity; The origin of rocks and mountains, Of seas and rivers, lakes and fountains: Of rain and hills, and frost and snow, And all the storms and winds that blow; Besides a hundred wonders more, Of which we never heard before. But now, dear Doctor, not to flatter, There is a most important matter, A matter which you never touch on, A matter which our thoughts run much on; A subject, if we right conjecture, That well deserves a long, long lecture, Which all the ladies would approve-- The Natural History of Love! Deny us not, dear Doctor Moyce: O list to our entreating voice!