We
have been amused with the pleasantries of the author, and in return we
thank him, and recommend his little book to our readers.
* * * * *
SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS
* * * * *
CLASSICAL CORRECTIONS.
In a neat little cottage, some five miles from town,
Lived a pretty young maiden, by name Daphne Brown,
Like a butterfly, pretty and airy:
In a village hard by lived a medical prig,
With a rubicund nose, and a full-bottomed wig,
Apollo, the apothecary.
He, being crop sick of his bachelor life,
Resolved, in his old days, to look for a wife--
(_Nota bene_--Thank Heaven, I'm not married):
He envied his neighbours their curly-poled brats,
(All swarming, as if in a village of Pats,)
And sighed that so long he had tarried.
Having heard of fair Daphne, the village coquette,
As women to splendour were never blind yet,
He resolved with his grandeur to strike her;
So he bought a new buggy, where, girt in a wreath,
Were his arms, pills, and pestle--this motto beneath--
_"Ego opifer per orbem dicor.
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