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or write, our captain would have made me a corporal. But it was not my good fortune to have any promotion, for I soon fell sick, and so got leave to return home again with forty pounds in my pocket. This was at the beginning of the present war, and I hoped to be set on shore, and to have the pleasure of spending my money; but the government wanted men, and so I was pressed for a sailor before ever I could set foot on shore. The boatswain found me, as he said, an obstinate fellow: he swore he knew that I understood my business well, but that I shammed Abraham, to be idle; but, God knows, I knew nothing of sea-business, and he beat me, without considering what he was about. I had still, however, my forty pounds, and that was some comfort to me under every beating; and the money I might have had to this day, but that our ship was taken by the French, and so I lost all. Our crew was carried into Brest, and many of them died, because they were not used to live in a jail; but, for my part it was othing to me, for I was seasoned. One night, as I was asleep on the bed of boards, with a warm blanket about me, for I always loved to lie well, I was awakened by the boatswain, who had a dark lanthorn in his hand: ‘Jack,' says he to me, 'will you knock out the French centry's brains?' 'I don't care,' says I, striving to keep myself awake, if I lend a hand.' Then follow me,' says he, and I hope we shall do business. So up I got, and tied my blanket, which was all the cloaths I had, about my middle, and went with him to fight the Frenchmen. I hate the French, because they are all slaves, and wear wooden shoes.
Though we had no arms, one Englishman is able to beat five French at any time; so we went down to the door, where both the centries were posted, and, ushing upon them, seized their arms in a moment, and knocked them down. From thence nine of us ran together to the quay, and seizing the first boat we met,
got out of the harbour, and put to sea. We had not been here three days before we were taken up by the Dorset privateer, who were glad of so many good hands, and we consented to run our chance. Ho ever, we had not as much luck as we expected. I three days we fell in with the Pompadour privateer, of forty guns, while we had but twenty-three; so to it we went, yard-arm and yard-arm. The fight last ed for three hours, and I verily believe we should have taken the Frenchman, had we but had some more men left behind; but, unfortunately, we lost all our men just as we were going to get the victory.
I was once more in the power of the French, and I believe it would have gone hard with me had I been brought back to Brest; but, by good fortune we were retaken by the Viper. I had almost forgot to tell you, that, in that engagement, I was wounded in two places; I lost four fingers off the left hand, and my leg was shot off. If I had had the good fortune t have lost my leg and use of my hand on board a king's ship, and not a-board a privateer, I should have been entitled to cloathing and maintenance during the rest of my life, but that was not my chance: one man is born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and another with a wooden ladle. However, blessed be God,! enjoy good health, and will for ever love liberty and Old England. Liberty, property, and Old England for ever, huzza!'
Thus saying, he limped off, leaving me in admiration at his intrepidity and content; nor could I avoid acknowledging, that an habitual acquaintance with misery serves better than philosophy to teach us to despise it.
THE CHARACTER OF A SOT.
A sot is a silly fellow without brains. His sight is
best when he is stone blind, for till then he can never find his way home. He is a post-boy's horn to alarm a quiet neighbourhood at the unseasonable hour of one in the morning; a brewer's pump to keep store cellars dry. He is a lawyer, for he understands conveyancing extremely well. Although he scarcely knows what a pulpit means, yet he is a most religious fellow, for the name of God is ever at his tongue's end; and he is particularly careful to teach his family the duty of fasting. He is a bare-footed carmelite, for vou seldom see him with a pair of shoes to his feet. His frugality is remarkable, for a shirt always lasts him a
onth without washing, and a pair of stockings till they are worn out. His tailor is Jack Ketch, or his Grace of Monmouth, to one or other of whom he applies, as often as he can afford it, for a left off suit. Strangers frequently mistake him for a Jew, because of his beard. In his draughts he is a camel. He is the wonderful camelion, which is never seen to eat. He is terribly afflicted with various distempers; being frequently seized with the falling sickness at midnight, accompanied with a dead palsy in his tongue: St. Anthony's fire has visibly settled in his face, and so terribly does the ague shake his hand, that he cannot lift a glass of gin to his head. The pawn-broker is his banker, and the publican his chief creditor. In short, while he's alive, he is worthy any person's notice, but after his death, there will be no traces found of his memory, except on the chalked walls of alehouses.
INSCRIPTION ON A SIGN-BOARD,
Here are frabricated and renovated, trochiliac hor ologies, portable and permanent, linguaculous or ta citurnal; whose circumgirations are performed by in ternal spiral elastic or extensive pendulous plumbages; diminutives, simple or compound, invested with aurent or argent integuments.
This is to give notice, to all lovers of cruelty and promoters of misery, that at the George-Inn, on Wednesday, in Whitsun week, will be provided for their diversion that savage sport of Cock-fighting, which cannot but give delight to every breast thoroughly di vested of humanity; and, for the music, oaths and curses will not fail to resound round the pit: so that this pastime must be greatly approved of by such as have no reverence for the Deity nor benevolence for his creatures.
THE CONTENTED PORTER.
A porter, resting himself, with his load by him, groaned aloud, and "wished he had five hundred pounds." “Why,” says a gentleman who was passing by, "I will give you five hundred pounds :-and now what will you do with it ?" "Oh," said the porter, "I will soon tell you what I will do with it. First, I will have a pint of ale, and a toast and nutmeg, every morning for my breakfast." "Well, and what time will you get up ?" "Oh, I have been used to get up at five or six o'clock, so I will do that "Well, what will you do after breakfast ?" Why, I will fetch a walk till dinner." "And what will you have for dinner ?" "Why, I will have a good dinner; I will have good roast and boiled beef, and some carrots and greens ;-and I will have a full pot every day, and then I will smoke a ipe." "Well, and then, perhaps you will take a nap." "May be I may-no, I will not take a nap; I will fetch another walk till supper." Well, and what will you have for supper ?" "I do not know -I will have more beef, if I am hungry; or else I will have a Welsh rabbit, and another full pot of beer." "Well, and then ?” "Why then I will go to bed, to be sure—“ Pray, how much may you now earn a week by your business ?" "Why, master, I can make you eighteen shillings a week."-" Will not you be tired now, do you think, after a little while, in doing nothing every day ?" "I do not know, master; I have been thinking so."" Well then, let me propose a scheme to you." "With all my heart, master."-"Cannot you do all this every day, as you are, and employ your time into the argain?" "Why, really, so I can, master, I think; and so take your five hundred pounds again, and thank you." Richardson.