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"The army surgeons made him limbs."

POEMS OF WIT AND HUMOR.

FAITHLESS NELLY GRAY.

BEN BATTLE was a soldier bold,

And used to war's alarms;
But a cannon-ball took off his legs,
So he laid down his arms.

Now as they bore him off the field,
Said he, "Let others shoot,
For here I leave my second leg,

And the Forty-second Foot."

The army surgeons made him limbs:
Said he, "They're only pegs;
But there's as wooden members quite
As represent my legs."

Now Ben he loved a pretty maid,
Her name was Nelly Gray;
So he went to pay her his devours,
When he'd devoured his pay.
But when he called on Nelly Gray,
She made him quite a scoff;

And when she saw his wooden legs,
Began to take them off.

"O Nelly Gray! O Nelly Gray!

Is this your love so warm?
The love that loves a scarlet coat
Should be more uniform."

Said she, "I loved a soldier once,
For he was blithe and brave;
But I will never have a man

With both legs in the grave.

"Before you had those timber toes
Your love I did allow,

But then, you know, you stand upon
Another footing now."

"O Nelly Gray! O Nelly Gray!
For all your jeering speeches,
At duty's call I left my legs
In Badajo's breaches."

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Robin Hood shot passing well,
Till his arrows all were gane;
They took their swords and steel bucklers,
They fought with might and main,

From ten o' th' clock that very day

Till four i' th' afternoon.
Then Robin Hood came to his knees
To beg of the friar a boon:

"A boon, a boon, thou Curtall Friar;
I beg it on my knee:

Give me leave to set my horn to my mouth,
And to blow blasts three."

"That will I do," said the Curtall Friar;
"Of thy blasts I have no doubt.
I hope thou'lt blow so passing well,
Till both thy eyes fall out."

Robin Hood set his horn to his mouth,
He blew out blasts three.

Half a hundred yeomen, with bows bent,
Came raking o'er the lea.

"Whose men are these?" said the friar;
"They come so hastily."
"Those are mine," said Robin Hood;
"Friar, what is that to thee?"

"A boon, a boon," said the Curtall Friar,
"The like I gave to thee;

Give me leave to set my fist to my mouth,
And to whute whutes three."

"That will I do," said Robin Hood,
"Or else I were to blame;
Three whutes in a friar's fist

Would make me glad and fain.”

The friar set his fist to his mouth,
And whuted whutes three;
Half a hundred good ban dogs
Came running o'er the lea.

"Here is for every man a dog,

And I myself for thee."

"Nay, by my faith," said Robin Hood, "Friar, that may not be."

W

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WIT THE FLAVOUR OF THE MIND.

ANONYMOUS.

HEN wit is combined with sense and information; when it is softened by beneve lence and restrained by principle; when it is in the hands of a man who can use it and despise it who can be witty and something more than witty-who loves honour, justice, decency, good-nature, morality, and religion ten thousand times better than wit

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