“why, i thought, mister jean paul nemand (says the reader), that we left the captain safe and sound, in his own bed, next the window, with the patch-work coverlet?”
[pg 222]
“and so we did, mister carl wilhelm jemand (says the author,) but it was so short, that in five minutes he caught the cramp. wherefore, as there was a second spare bed in the room, and as honest dietrich had said nothing of other lodgers, and as of all blessings we ought to choose the biggest, the captain determined to give it a trial—and between you and me he liked the bed well enough, till he felt a sort of smashing pain all over his body, his eyes squeezing out of his face, his nose squeezing into it, and his precious front teeth, at a gulp, going uninvited down his gullet!”
“why did you sup on pork?”
ode for the ninth of november.
o lud! o lud! o lud!
i mean of course that venerable town,
mention’d in stories of renown,
built formerly of mud;—
o lud, i say, why didst thou e’er
invent the office of a mayor,
an office that no useful purpose crowns,
but to set aldermen against each other,
that should be brother unto brother,—
sisters at least, by virtue of their gowns
[pg 223]
but still if one must have a mayor
to fill the civic chair,
o lud, i say,
was there no better day
to fix on, than november ninth so shivery
and dull for showing off the livery’s livery?