Page:Tale of the Rebellion of 1745, or, The broken heart (1).pdf/24

                24 THE COUNTRY SCHOOLMASTER.

A Country Schoolmaster, high Jonas Bell, Once undertook of little souls, To furnish up their jobbernowls— In other words, he taught them how to spell, And well adapted to the task was Bell, Whose iron visage measur’d half an ell: With huge proboscis, and eye-brows of soot, Arm'd at the jowl, just like a boar, And when he gave an angry roar. The little schoolboys stood like fishes mute.

Poor Jonas, tho' a patient man as Job, Yet still, like Job, was sometimes heard to growl, Was by a scholar’s adamantine nod, Beyond all patience gravell’d to the soul, I question whether Jonas in the Fish Did ever diet on a bitterer dish. ’Twas thus—a lady who supported Bell, Came unexpectedly to hear them spell The pupil fix’d on by this pedagogue, Her son, a little round fac’d ruddy rogue Who thus letter’s on the table laid— M. I. L. K,—and paused—"Well, sir, whats that?” "I cannot tell,” the boy all trembling said,— "Not tell, you little blind and stupid brat, "Not tell,” roar’d Jonas, in a violent rage, And quick prepar’d an angry war to wage. “Tell me this instant, or I’ll flay thy hide— “Come, Sir. “Dost thou this birchen weapon see? "What puts thy mother in her tea?" With lifted eyes, the quaking rogue reply’d “RUM, Sir..."

THE END.