Part 2

My Lords and Gentlemen advance, Come with a chearful countenance, And tell abroad my praise, Whether you in the senate sit, Or at the bar display your wit, 'Tis I your spirits raise; I from the hero banish fear, I whisper in the poet's ear, And teach him how to sing; At my approach care steals away, And all the troubles of the day, Immediately take wing: 'Tis I th' afflicted souls relieve, To the desponding comfort give, And make the statesman bold; The balm I yield, if well apply'd, Extends its friendly influence wide, And aids both young and old.

While tears fall down, behold how gay, How beautiful my dress; Not _Flora_ in the month of _May_ Does greater joy express, And as on her the short-liv'd pride, _Sol's_ friendly beams bestow, So I my charms, extended wide, To the same patron owe; The elements are all combin'd To form my transient beauty, And I as God himself design'd, Do my appointed duty: Thus plac'd aloft to catch the eye, Like Beacon on a hill, I tell not who comes to destroy, Yet obviate future ill.

Tho' big my belly, long my nose, And with one arm I strut; I make the fair their foes expose, And keep my own mouth shut: Before me they their secrets tell, The news of all the day; And for my silence I'm fed well, But empty sent away: Yet tho they love my company, And seem to me so civil; Sometimes you'd swear they thought that I Had dealings with the devil.

Emblem of youth and innocence, With walls enclos'd for my defence, And with no care oppress'd, I boldly spread my charms around, Till some rude lover breaks the mound, And takes me to his breast; Here soon I sicken and decay, My beauty lost, I'm turn'd away, And thrown upon the street; Where I despis'd and rolling lie, See no Samaritan pass by, But num'rous insults meet:-- Ladies, contemplate well my fate, Reflect upon my wretched state; Implore th' Almighty's aid, Lest you (which Heav'n avert) like me Shou'd come to want and misery, Be ruin'd and betray'd.

Look at the rainbow in the sky, See summer morning clouds pass by; Go search the gardens and the fields, Observe what bounteous nature yields; You'll scarcely find a flower or plant, Whose beauty I or colour want: Thus furnish'd, I oblige the fair, And change my colour ev'ry year; Attend the Gen'ral--grace the Lord, And to both sexes joy afford: But hold, methinks too far I go, Being oft the messenger of woe: Consult the glass with decent air, My nature, use, and name declare.

Who was he, that by a kiss Lost a more substantial bliss; Sold his crown for paltry pelf, Sneak'd away and hang'd himself? Beware, ye mercenaries all, Lest the same fate should you befall.

If old stories say true, I could once talk like you; But for fear of becoming a slave, I was instantly mute, And grew cunning to boot, Determin'd my freedom to save; Now to the fop and the fool, And the rude boy at school, All endeavour to practice my art; But their efforts are vain, They pretenders remain, And must--till the world they depart; To observe how I grin, With snub nose, lips, and chin, Would the laughter excite of a lord; And for mimicry too, I my betters out-do, And more innocent pleasure afford.

I, a busy active creature, Fashion'd for the sport of nature, Nimbly skip from tree to tree, Under a well-wrought canopy; And, for cleanliness and air, Am a pattern to the fair, I, to arms and blood a stranger, Apprehensive of no danger, Like the ant for winter store, Searching treasure to explore, On a sudden hear the foe, Cause and object of my woe; By whom I'm soon a prisoner made, Chain'd and in a dungeon laid; Bid _Chloe_ then and _Mira_ tell What's my name, and where I dwell.

Of all the arts in which we shine, Or sciences acquir'd, There's none so difficult as mine, Less practis'd, more admir'd; Behold my whimsical attire, How aukward my address; The trade which I take up for hire, Millions unknown profess. I fiddle, sing, prate, laugh and cry, To draw the thoughtless in; And num'rous other antics try, To bait the subtle grin: But when surrounded with a crowd, To shew myself more funny, I tell my master's fame aloud, And ease them of their money.

I am chief of a clan, which by God was appointed To establish his throne, and preserve his anointed; The grandeur observe of my house and attire, And tell me what mortal can raise his head higher; My servants are num'rous, their wages well paid, Who for constant attendance insure future aid; To all ranks and degrees of mankind I am civil, And do all that I can to deter them from evil. Nay,--Those suppliant all who my levee attend, In me find a servant, a father, a friend: And some, who my service and sov'reign deny'd, Have liv'd to repent of that crime ere they dy'd.

When you the _fortune hunter_ meet, Upon a gaudy day, Compleatly rigg'd from head to feet, In _Monmouth Street_ array; Then turn your wand'ring eye to me, My vanity admire; Observe, here the like fallacy Lurks under my attire; For all the fin'ry round me thrown, I'm forc'd to beg or borrow; And shou'd my neighbours claim their own, Must naked go to-morrow.

How many millions for my sake have dy'd, What frauds and villanies have not been try'd! And all the grandeur which my race adorns Is like the rose beset around with thorns; Nay, when possess'd, such your enjoyments are, I to my owners trouble bring and care. Ev'n they, by whom I am so highly priz'd, If good are hated, and if bad despis'd. Thus 'twixt the plague of getting me and losing, By some I'm thought not worth a wise man's chusing.

Come hear and see a taudry thing, Fluttering with expanded wing; Like the lark that upward tends, And like her too, when she descends Toss'd by the owner to and fro, Her beauty and its own to show; Suff'ring much at ball and play And working ev'ry holiday; But what is still more strange to tell, When by _Belinda_ manag'd well, Its pow'r th' admiring youth perplexes, For her it cools, but burns _Alexes_.

I ne'er offend thee, Yet thou dost me whip, Which don't amend me, Tho' I dance and skip: When I'm upright, me you always like best, And barb'rously whip me when I want rest

My proper title I forsake, And often that of others take; Sometimes a king in stately pride, With lofty majesty I stride; Sometimes with sprightly nymphs and swains, I trip it o'er the flow'ry plains; Sometimes I fleet aloft in air, And oftentimes quite disappear: In various shapes I'm known to be, And children often start at me.

My nose is long, my back is broad and round, And in my belly oft two holes are found; No load I carry, yet I puff and blow, As much as heavy loaded porters do.

When in my youth, I was my mother's pride; We always went together, side by side; No harm I wrought, by either word or deed; For to be plain, I could not write or read; But soon as man seiz'd on my tender frame, Depriv'd of life, his pupil I became, And tho' of late so innocent and mild, With blackest deeds my virtues now defil'd; My tongue he slits, and I begin to prate Of friends and foes, of politics and state.

Legs I have got, yet seldom do I walk; I backbite many, yet I never talk: In secret places most I seek to hide me, For he who feeds me never can abide me

While young and gay, and deck'd with utmost pride, I long'd and thought it heav'n to be a bride: At length a wealthy merchant view'd my charms, Tall and genteel, I took him to my arms; But he, in spite of all the med'cines try'd, That very night light headed grew and dy'd: Instructed by this merchant's fortune go, Nor dream of lasting happiness below.

'Tis true I have both face and hands, And move before your eye; Yet when I go my body stands, And when I stand I lie.

Of all dame nature's progeny, There's scarce one being more than me Alive despis'd and hated; But tho' I am a filthy creature, Without one amiable feature, It strongly is debated, Whether I don't excel the man, Who thro' the paths of vice has ran, And does no good while living; But left a torn estate behind, To put his family in mind, He'd nothing worth the giving; While I, whene'er impartial death Pierces my heart or stops my breath, My income ne'er destroy; But for all favours done, Return the living three for one, And give the houshold joy.

Behold yon powder'd beau, how fine and fair: _Great Britain's_ glory, but his father's care; Observe his equipage, how grand, how neat, In ev'ry article alike compleat; See him look down with scorn upon his fire, While gaping passengers his pride admire. Would you his residence or haunts explore, Accept his key and open wide the door. When bus'ness in the senate calls you there, You'll soon behold this noble upstart near; Or if for pleasure you to _Vauxhall_ stray, 'Tis ten to one you pass him on the way; But thro' the city should you chance to range, You'll never find the booby upon change. Like those fine gentlemen whom courts inclose, He trade despises, though from trade he rose.

The END.

ILLUSTRATED SHILLING SERIES OF FORGOTTEN CHILDREN'S BOOKS.

PUBLISHERS' NOTE.

The little books printed about a hundred years ago "for the amusement of little masters and misses" must now be looked for in the cabinets of the curious. The type is quaint, the illustrations quainter and the grayish tinted paper abounds in obtrusive specks of embedded dirt. For the covers, gaudy Dutch gilt paper was used, or paper with patchy blobs of startlingly contrasted colours laid on with a brush by young people. The text, always amusing, is of course redolent of earlier days.

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1899-1900. LONDON: PUBLISHED BY The Leadenhall Press, Ltd: 50, Leadenhall Street, E.C. _Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent & Co., Ltd:_

_New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 153-157 Fifth Avenue._

1. THE DAISY; OR, CAUTIONARY STORIES IN VERSE, adapted to Ideas of Children from Four to Eight Years Old. 1807.

Re-prints of this laughter-laden little book, written by Mrs. ELIZABETH TURNER, followed each other right up to about 1850: in the illustrated edition before the reader, nothing is omitted and nothing is added.

With a view to greater profit, the publisher discarded the pretty copperplates which adorned the first edition (now a thing of price) substituting roughly cut wooden blocks.

2. THE COWSLIP; OR, MORE CAUTIONARY STORIES IN VERSE. By the author of that much-admired little work, entitled THE DAISY. 1811.

Under this title in 1811 Mrs. Turner wrote some more Cautionary Stories which became almost as popular as _The Daisy_. She also wrote other books of poetry for children, including _The Crocus_, _The Pink_, and _Short Poems_; but none had the charm or vogue of _The Daisy_ and _The Cowslip_.

3. NEW RIDDLE-BOOK. By JOHN-THE-GIANT-KILLER, Esquire. 1778.

This covetable little book, published by F(rancis) Newbery, Jun. and T(homas) Carnan, the son and step-son of John Newbery, had been issued by their father at least twenty years earlier than the date on the title-page. The opening note concerning Francis, the nephew of John Newbery, relates to family differences which need not here be referred to. There would seem to be no copyright in riddles, at any rate one finds the same hoary-heads in other collections.

The destructive fingers of little riddle-readers have been the means of causing thousands of copies of this amusing book to disappear, and to obtain an original copy is now almost impossible. The quaintness of the wood-cut pictorial answers should appeal to the modern reader.

_It is intended to continue this Illustrated Shilling Series of_

FORGOTTEN CHILDREN'S BOOKS.

_OTHER VOLUMES ARE IN PREPARATION._

_SMILES AND LAUGHTER IN EVERY PAGE._

PAGES AND PICTURES FROM FORGOTTEN CHILDREN'S BOOKS. Brought together and introduced to the Reader by ANDREW W. TUER, F.S.A. Four hundred illustrations; five hundred pages, handsomely bound, top edge gilt, silk book-marker. LONDON: The Leadenhall Press, Ltd: 50, Leadenhall-street, E.C. [Six Shillings.

One hundred large paper copies at a Guinea, net.

* * * * *

_SMILES AND LAUGHTER IN EVERY PAGE._

STORIES FROM OLD-FASHIONED CHILDREN'S BOOKS brought together and introduced to the Reader by ANDREW W. TUER, F.S.A. Adorned with 250 amusing cuts. Nearly 500 pages: handsomely and attractively bound. LONDON: The Leadenhall Press, Ltd: 50, Leadenhall-street, E.C. [Six Shillings.

THESE ARE QUITE INDEPENDENT VOLUMES.

Transcriber's Note:

Obvious punctuation errors were corrected.

Capitalization of opening verses were made consistent; e.g. "I Am" changed to "I am".

Page 6: "oftn er" changed to oftner Page 58: "teaz d" changed to teaz'd Page 59: RoyalSociety changed to "Royal Society" Page 65: "caress d" changed to carres'd Page 76: Tis changed to 'Tis Page 86: "Determin d" changed to Determin'd Page 96: "dy d" changed to dy'd

End of Project Gutenberg's Food for the Mind, by John-the-Giant-Killer