MERCHANT TAILORS' SCHOOL.

At Merchant Tailors' School, what time

Old Bishop held the rod,

The boys rehearsed the old man's rhyme

Whilst he would smile and nod.

Apart I view'd a little child

Who join'd not in the game:

His face was what mammas call mild

And fathers dull and tame.

Pitying the boy, I thus address'd

The pedagogue of verse—

"Why doth he not, Sir, like the rest,

Your epigrams rehearse?"

"Sir!" answered thus the aged man,

"He's not in Nature's debt;

His ears so tight are seal'd, he can-

Not learn his alphabet."

"Why not?" I cried:—whereat to me

He spoke in minor clef—

"He cannot learn his A, B, C,

Because he's D, E, F."

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