A joiner, to faften a faint in a nitch,

Bor'd a lage auger-bole in the image's breech.
But, finding the ftatue to make no complaint,
He would ne'er be convinced it was a true faint.
When the true Wood arrives, as he foon will, no doubt,
(For that 's but a fham Wood they carry about*;)
What Auff he is made of you quickly may find,
If you make the fame trial, and bore him behind.
I'll hold you a groat, when you wimble his bum,
He'll bellow as loud as the Devil in a drum.
From me, I declare, you fhall have no denial;
And there can be no harm in making a trial:
And, when to the joy of your hearts he has roar'd,
You may
fhew him about for a new groaning-board.

Hear one flory more, and then I will stop.
I dreamt Wood was told he fhould die by a drop:
So methought he refolved no liquor to taste,

For fear the first drop might as well be his last.
But dreams are like oracles; 'tis hard to explain 'em ;
For it prov'd that he died of a drop at Kilmainham †.
I wak'd with delight; and not without hope,
Very foon to fee Wood drop down from a rope.
How he! and how we, at each other fhould grin !
'Tis kindness to hold a friend up by the chin.
But foft! fays the Herald; I cannot agree;
For metal on metal is falfe Heraldry.

Why, that may be true; yet Wood upon Wood,
I'll maintain with my life, is Heraldry good.

* He was frequently burnt in effigy.
Their place of execution.

TO

IT

SIR,

TO DR. SHERIDAN.

Dec. 14, 1719*, 9 at night.

T is impoffible to know by your letter whether the wine is to be bottled to-morrow, or no.

If it be, or be not, why did not you, in plain English, tell us fo?

For my part, it was by mere chance I came to fit with the ladies this night:

And if they had not told me there was a letter from

you; and your man Alexander had not gone, and come back from the deanry; and the boy here had not been sent to let Alexander know I was here; I fhould have miffed the letter out-right.

Truly I don't know who's bound to be fending for corks to stop your bottles, with a vengeance.

Make a page of your own age, and fend your man Alexander to buy corks; for Saunders already has

gone above ten jaunts.

Mrs. Dingley and Mrs. Johnfon fay, truly they don't

care for your wife's company, though they like your wine; but they had rather have it at their own house to drink in quiet.

However, they own it is very civil in Mr. Sheridan te make the offer; and they cannot deny it.

*This is probably dated too early.

Mrs. Dingley and Mrs. Johnfon,

I wish Alexander fafe at St Catharine's to-night, with all my heart and foul, upon my word and honour: But I think it base in you to fend a poor fellow out fo

late at this time of year, when one would not turn out a dog that one valued; I appeal to your friend Mr. Connor

I would prefent my humble fervice to my lady Mountcafhel; but truly I thought she would have made advances to have been acquainted with me, as fhe pretended.

But now I can write no more, for you fee plainly my paper is ended.

1 P. S.

I wish, when you prated, your letter you'd dated :
Much plague it created. I fcolded and rated;
My foul is much grated; for your man I long waited.
I think you are fated, like a bear to be baited:

Your man is belated; the cafe I have stated;
And me you have cheated. My ftable 's unflated.
Come back t'us well freighted.

I remember my late head; and wish you translated,
For eazing me.

2 P. S.

Mrs Dingley defires me fingly

Her service to prefent you; hopes that will content you;

But Johnson madam is grown a fad dame,

For want of converfe, and cannot fend one verfe.

3 P. S.

You keep fuch a twattling with you and your bottling; But I fee the fum total, we fhall ne'er have a bottle;

The

The long and the short, we shall not have a quart. I wish you would fign 't, that we have a pint. For all your colloguing, I'd be glad of a knoggin : But I doubt 'tis a fham; you won't give us a dram. 'Tis of fhine a month moon-full, you won't part with a fpoonfull,

And I must be nimble, if can fill my thimble.

You fee I won't stop, till I come to a drop ;

But I doubt the oraculum is a poor fupernaculum; Though perhaps you tell it for a grace, if we smell it. STELLA,

то

QUILСА,

A COUNTRY-HOUSE of Dr. SHERIDAN,

In no very good Repair, 1725.

ET me thy properties explain :

LE

A rotten cabbin dropping rain ;
Chimnies with fcorn rejecting fmoak;
Stools, tables, chairs, and bedfteds broke.
Here elements have loft their uses,
Air ripens not, nor earth produces;
In vain we make poor Sheelah * toil,
Fire will not roaft, nor water boil.
Through all the valleys, hills, and plains,
The goddess Want in triumph reigns:
And her chief officers of ftate,

Sloth, Dirt, and Theft, around her wait.

The name of an Irish fervant.

The

The BLESSINGS of a COUNTRY-Life. 1725.

FAR from our debtors; no Dublin letters;
Not feen by our betters.

The PLAGUES of a COUNTRY-LIFE.

A companion with news; a great want of shoes;
Eat lean meat, or chufe; a church without pews.
Our horses aftray; no straw, oats, or hay;
[play.
December in May; our boys run away; all fervants at

DR. SHERIDAN TO DR. SWIFT.

'D have you to know, as fure as you 're Dean,
On Thursday my cafk of Obrien I'll drain :
If my wife is not willing, I fay fhe's a quean;
And my right to the cellar, egad, I'll maintain
As bravely as any that fought at Dunblain :
Go tell her it over and over again.

I hope, as I ride to the town, it won't rain;
For, fhould it, fear it will cool my hot brain,

Entirely extinguith my poetic vein ;

And then I fhould be as ftupid as Kain,

[twain.

Who preach'd on three heads, though he mention'd but

Now Wardel's in hafte, and begins to complain;
Your most humble fervant, Dear Sir, I remain,

Get Helfham, Walmfiey, Delany,
And fome Grattans, if there be any
Take care you do not bid too many.

* i. e. in Dublin, for they were country-clergy.