CCCLXX.
THE THREE BLACK CROWS.
Two honest tradesmen meeting in the Strand,
One took the other briskly by the hand:
"Hark ye," said he, "'tis an odd story this,
About the crows!"—"I don't know what it is,"
Replied his friend.—"No? I'm surprised at that;
Where I came from 't is the common chat;
But you shall hear: an odd affair indeed!
And that it happened, they are all agreed.
Not to detain you from a thing so strange,
A gentleman, that lives not far from 'Change,
This week, in short, as all the alley knows,
Taking a puke, has thrown up three black crows."
"Impossible!"—"Nay, but it 's really true;
I had it from good hands, and so may you."
"From whose, I pray?" So having named the man,
Straight to inquire his curious comrade ran.
"Sir, did you tell?"—relating the affair—
"Yes, sir, I did; and if it's worth you care,
Ask Mr. Such-a-one; he told it me;
But, by-the-by, 't was two black crows, not three."
Resolved to trace so wondrous an event,
Whip to the third, the virtuoso went.
"Sir,"—and so forth—"Why, yes; the thing is fact,
Though in regard to number not exact;
It was not two black crows; 't was only one;
The truth of that you may depends upon,
The gentleman himself told me the case."
"Where may I find him?"—"Why, in such a place."
Away he goes, and having found him out—
"Sir, be so good as to resolve a doubt."
Then to his last informant he referred,
And begged to know if true what he had heard.
"Did you, sir, throw up a black crow?"—"Not I!"—
"Bless me! how people propagate a lie!
Black crows have been thrown up, three, two, and one,
And here I find at last all comes to none!
Did you say nothing of a crow at all?"
"Crow—crow—perhaps I might, now I recall
The matter over."—"And pray, sir, what was 't?"
"Why, I was horrid sick, and, at the last,
I did throw up, and told my neighbor so,
Something that was as black, sir, as a crow."
Byrom.
CCCLXXI.
HELPS TO READ.
A certain artist—I've forgot his name—
Had got, for making spectacles, a fame,
Or, "helps to read," as, when they first were sold,
Was writ upon his glaring sign in gold;
And, for all uses to be had from glass,
His were allowed by readers to surpass.
There came a man into his shop one day—
"Are you the spectacle contriver, pray?"
"Yes Sir," said he, "I can in that affair
Contrive to please you, if you want a pair."
"Can you? pray do, then." So at first he chose
To place a youngish pair upon his nose;
And, book produced, to see how they would fit,
Asked how he liked them. "Like 'em!—not a bit."
"Then, sir, I fancy, if you please to try
These in my hand will better suit your eye?"—
"No, but they don't."—"Well come, sir, if you please,
Here is another sort; we'll e'en try these;
Still somewhat more they magnify the letter,
Now, sir?"—"Why, now, I'm not a bit the better."—
"No! here, take these which magnify still more,—
How do they fit"?—"Like all the rest before!"
In short, they tried a whole assortment through,
But all in vain, for none of them would do.
The operator, much surprised to find
So odd a case, thought, sure the man is blind!
"What sort of eyes can you have got?" said he.
"Why very good ones, friend, as you may see."
"Yes, I perceive the clearness of the ball.
Pray let me ask you Can you read at all?"
"No! you great blockhead!—If I could, what need
Of paying you for any 'helps to read?'"
And so he left the maker in a heat,
Resolved to post him for an arrant cheat.
Byrom.