But beauties such as yourn and hern
Were never born unseen to waste;
Like her, you're bound to come to light,
To gratify refinement's taste.
The fairest of the female race
To Ilium vent vith Priam's boy;
So the best oysters that I see
Are sent by railroad off to Troy.
Sleep on—sleep on—nor dream of woe
Until the horrid deed be done—
Then out and die, like Simile,[B]
In thy first glance upon the sun.
[A] Probably Lempriere.
[B] Semele (?)
Well, and 'ows bizness, Samivel? You've got a good stand, and you're bound to succeed. But beware of the Cracker-Fiend. I'll tell you about him.
There vas a chap as used to patronize me that vas one of the hungriest customers you ever did see. He was werry shabbily dressed, and he looked for all the world like the picturs I've seen of Shakspeare's "lean and hungry Cashier."
He used to come in, give his order, (generally a stew,) and then go and set down in a box and drop the curting. It allers looks suspicious for a customer to drop his curting afore you bring him the oysters—arterwards it's all perfectly proper, in course. Afore the stew was ready, he would call out—
"Waiter! crackers!"
The boy would hand him a basket; but when his stew was set before him, there warn't no crackers in his box.