Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 8.djvu/201

 One day he cried — "Murders, and songs, and great news!" Another as loudly — "Here blacken your shoes!" At Domvile's full often he fed upon bits, For winding of jacks up, and turning of spits; Lick'd all the plates round, had many a grubbing, And now and then got from the cook-maid a drubbing: Such bastings effect upon him could have none: The dog will be patient that's struck with a bone. Sir Thomas, observing this Hartley withal So expert and so active at brushes and ball, Was mov'd with compassion, and thought it a pity A youth should be lost, that had been so witty: Without more ado, he vamps up my spark, And now we'll suppose him an eminent clerk; Suppose him an adept in all the degrees Of scribbling cum dasho, and hooking of fees; Suppose him a miser, attorney per bill, Suppose him a courtier — suppose what you will — Yet would you believe, though I swore by the Bible, That he took up two news-boys for crying the libel? A FRIENDLY