Till wild agitation made Howard to vomit, While Howard pour'd streams at each painful convulsion; "And where were you going?" said Bluster again, "Oh, my friend, I'll attend you-dispel all your cares." Now, while they were gone, taking care of each other, Now, one end of the Ward would never content her, That things did not please her, was plain by her grunting, And greediness always defeats the possessor. "Twas so with the grunter, whose conscience was such, That finding a little, she wanted too much : And coming at length to a kettle of tin Containing some soup-she resolv'd to be in; Else force must be us'd, for the handle was stout. Now the taste of the soup gave the grunter such pleasure, She scamper'd about with her head in the kettle! VI. Here Bluster, approaching wi' his guardian Howard, But where was she going?-ah! how could she know ?— "Lord save us," he roar'd out, “we're ta’en by the deʼils!” And fled-but the grunter was close at his heels. In his dread consternation to get to the door, Saunders tripp'd his companion, and fell on the floor; Where the pig undesignedly trying his mettle, His hand stretching out-caught the pig by the tail! VII. Foregoing his grip, without asking to quit her, VIII. The shrieks of O'Connor, in misery weeping, Depriv'd the whole Ward of the pleasure of sleeping: But the pain which they felt by the sense of their hearing Was lost in the view of the grunter's careering.. That the Devils were come to take them at last, They now were assur'd, when they thought of the past; And how to avoid them, if that could be done, Was the wish of each patient-but where could he run? The rest follow'd him-but the pigs went before! But altho' they were young, and their knowledge but small, IX. The patients were lost in confusion and terror, For he knew by their tails, and the shape of their legs. No, no!" said O'Connor? "they're the members of sin, "Did you ever see pigs wearing helmets of tin?" Bluster join'd with his friend, and confirm'd what he said, By disclosing the scar he receiv'd on his head. Paddy Mullen objected, by putting the task, If shame had made Satan to put on a mask? Now Howard and Holdfast agreed with the butcher, And proffer'd their services with him to catch her. To which he declar'd he was willing and ready, With help of Pat Mullen, O'Connor, and Eddy. Pat swore he would rather dispense with the trouble, And if he knew how, he would tip 'em the double. O'Connor cried out, 66 May the helmet confound 'em! "They're now in the corner-come, let us surround 'em.""Softly, there!"-said the butcher to waggish O'Connor"I will catch them myself, and have all the honour.” "Oh! take it my honey!" said Pat with a sneer, "And the Devil be with you in honour's career!” X. The butcher, aware of the mother's disaster, Was perfectly sure he was more than her master; But to catch the young grunters-ah! that was the chance! XI. These aukward mishaps, and unfortunate evils, Now prov'd beyond doubt that the grunters were devils ! Where now 'twas their turn to be hemm'd in themselves! For weakness was turn'd out, and strength had the wall. XII. As here they were coop'd in lamentable pother, The contrast was striking, 'twixt his shirt and his skin, And resolving to pay 'em for causing the trip, That her grunting assur'd him she wanted no more— A scene of confusion all over the room. The Black, in pursuit, thunder'd vengeance, and swore, XIII. But the lash of his whip, in his hurry to use it, And she, to complete it, ran faster and faster; Nor could he restrain her from striking the wall, And, tho' dragg'd thro' the ward, wouldn't yield to his grip. He, panting, pursu'd her; but now she could match him, "O catch them! O catch them! and take them below!" But thought, in their dread, that he spoke to the brood. UPON THE PRESENT STATE OF THE To the Editor of the Edinburgh SIR, In the year of our Lord One thousand eight hundred and eleven, there appeared a certain work, under the following title: "Bibliomania; A Bibliographical Romance, in Six Parts: by the Rev. Thomas Frognall Dibdin, 8vo. This was the second, and a greatly enlarged, edition, formed on a new plan, and composed of much more attractive materials, as well as ornamented with wood and copper cuts. The least attractive part, was the engravings. However, with the same spirit of ruthless Vandalism or Gothicism which distinguishes the Reverend author in all his Bibliographical productions, these cuts, both upon wood and copper, were destroyed. Many of the former ("it is noised abroad") were converted into snuff-boxes, which are now regularly displayed, filled with Havannah snuff, upon the anniversaries of the Roxburgh Club dinners; and the whole of the latter were utterly broken up and re-melted, into what forms, it is impossible now to learn; although it has been whispered that the portrait of Braithwait, prefixed to the limited edition of Drunken Barnaby, of which Mr Joseph Haslewood is the enterprising and fortunate editor, was cut upon the very piece of copper that had served for the small-clothes of Luther and Melancthon; see p. 158. however, somewhat sceptical upon this point. We are, The work above mentioned was no sooner published than it was out of print: that is to say, the edition was exhausted within six months of the day of publication, and yet, not only is the impression allowed to have been tolerably large, but the class of readers for which it was suited must have been necessarily small. The present price of the work *, even in boards, The original price was twenty-seven shillings but dare we venture to hope for a new edition? We dare not. Sooner think to straiten the crooked and gnarled branches of a Sussex oak, than indulge a rational idea of such a thing's coming to is little short of £.4: 4s., if the report of the hammers of Messrs Sotheby and Evans may be trusted. It is useless to bestow a word about the nature of the contents of the work in question. They are best known, and may be best appreciated, by the struggle to obtain a copy of it whenever it turns up," as the choice, as well as technical phrase is. My more immediate object is, the present and probable future state of the BIBLIOMANIA, as connected, more or less, with the productions of the author in question. 66 The year ensuing the publication of this "Bibliographical Romance," the sale of the Roxburgh Library took place, when Mr Evans made his debût as a book-auctioneer. Never was there an occasion more brilliant, more seductive, and more prosperous in its results; and, from that moment to the present, Mr Evans has run a career which we have reason to think has been as honourable and satisfactory to himself as to his employers. Not that we wish or mean to undervalue the efforts, or cast a "sere and yellow" tinge upon the reputation of the Waterloo-Place rival labourer in the sub-hâsta vineyard. Mr Sotheby, aided by the irresistible good humour, and "incomparable felicity of temper" (as Gibbon happily said of Lord North) of Sir Benjamin Wheatley †, continues to wield the sceptre of his authority with the same grace and good nature as distinguished his illustrious predecessor Mr Leigh. It is a sceptre indeed of an antiquity almost as remote as that wielded by Agamemnon, and upon which Homer has so pleasantly digressed. For yourself, pass—What odd mortals these Bibliographers are! It was this part of the title that gave the work admission into circulating li braries; and some roguish stories have thence, and feigned to be lost: wherebeen told of the book being borrowed from upon the loser paid the amount of the original price cheerfully-But was not the proprietor gulled? We think he was. What says a certain privately-printed Bibliographical poem upon this hero? -where BEN, Brave honest Ben, like BENBOW of the main, Of old, sits |