Surnames.

BY JAMES SMITH, ONE OF THE AUTHORS OF “REJECTED ADDRESSES.”

“Men once were surnamed for their shape or estate
(You all may from history learn it),
There was Louis the Bulky, and Henry the Great,
John Lackland, and Peter the Hermit.
But now, when the doorplates of misters and dames
Are read, each so constantly varies;
From the owner’s trade, figure, and calling, surnames
Seem given by the rule of contraries.
Mr. Wise is a dunce, Mr. King is a whig,
Mr. Coffin’s uncommonly sprightly,
And huge Mr. Little broke down in a gig,
While driving fat Mrs. Golightly.
At Bath, where the feeble go more than the stout,
(A conduct well worthy of Nero,)
Over poor Mr. Lightfoot, confined with the gout,
Mr. Heavyside danced a bolero.
Miss Joy, wretched maid, when she chose Mr. Love,
Found nothing but sorrow await her;
She now holds in wedlock, as true as a dove,
That fondest of mates, Mr. Hayter.
Mr. Oldcastle dwells in a modern-built hut;
Miss Sage is of madcaps the archest;
Of all the queer bachelors Cupid e’er cut,
Old Mr. Younghusband’s the starchest.

Mr. Child, in a passion, knock’d down Mr. Rock;
Mr. Stone like an aspen-leaf shivers;
Miss Pool used to dance, but she stands like a stock
Ever since she became Mrs. Rivers.
Mr. Swift hobbles onward, no mortal knows how,
He moves as though cords had entwined him;
Mr. Metcalf ran off upon meeting a cow,
With pale Mr. Turnbull behind him.
Mr. Barker’s as mute as a fish in the sea,
Mr. Miles never moves on a journey,
Mr. Gotobed sits up till half after three,
Mr. Makepeace was bred an attorney.
Mr. Gardener can’t tell a flower from a root,
Mr. Wild with timidity draws back;
Mr. Ryder performs all his journeys on foot,
Mr. Foot all his journeys on horseback.
Mr. Penny, whose father was rolling in wealth,
Consumed all the fortune his dad won;
Large Mr. Le Fever’s the picture of health;
Mr. Goodenough is but a bad one.
Mr. Cruikshank stept into three thousand a year
By showing his leg to an heiress:
Now I hope you’ll acknowledge I’ve made it quite clear
Surnames ever go by contraries.”

The next verses are somewhat similar, and are taken from an old number of the European Magazine:

Coincidences and Contrarieties.

“Tis curious to find, in this overgrown town,
While through its long streets we are dodging,
That many a man is in trade settled down,
Whose name don’t agree with his lodging!
For instance, Jack Munday in Friday Street dwells,
Mr. Pitt in Fox Court is residing;
Mr. White in Black’s Buildings green-grocery sells,
While East in West Square is abiding!
Mr. Lamb in Red Lion Street perks up his head,
To Lamb’s, Conduit Street, Lyon goes courting;
Mr. Boxer at Battle Bridge hires a bed,
While Moon is in Sun Street disporting.
Bill Brown up to Green Street to live now is gone,
In Stanhope mews Dennet keeps horses;
Doctor Low lives in High Street, Saint Mary-le-Bone,
In Brown Street one Johnny White’s door sees.
But still much more curious it is, when the streets
Accord with the names of their tenants;
And yet with such curious accordance one meets,
In taking a town-tour like Pennant’s.
For instance, in Crown Street George King you may note,
To Booth, in Mayfair, you go shopping;
And Porter, of Brewer Street, goes in a boat
To Waters, of River Street, Wapping!
Mr. Sparrow in Bird Street has feathered his nest,
Mr. Archer in Bow Street wooes Sally:
Mr. Windham in Air Street gets zephyr’d to rest,
Mr. Dancer resides in Ball Alley.
Mr. Fisher on Finsbury fixes his views,
Mrs. Foote in Shoe Lane works at carding;
Mr. Hawke has a residence close to the Mews,
And Winter puts up at Spring Gardens!
In Orange Street, Lemon vends porter and ale,
In Hart Street, Jack Deer keeps a stable;
In Hill Street located you’ll find Mr. Dale,
In Blue Anchor Row, Mr. Cable.
In Knight-Rider Street, you’ve both Walker and Day,
In Castle Street, Champion and Spearman;
In Blackman Street, Lillywhite makes a display,
In Cheapside lives sweet Mrs. Dearman.
In Paradise Row, Mr. Adam sells figs,
Eve, in Apple Tree Yard, rooms has taken;
Mr. Coltman, in Foley Street, fits you with wigs,
In Hog Lane you call upon Bacon.
Old Homer in Greek Street sells barrels and staves,
While Pope, in Cross Lane, is a baker;
In Liquorpond Street, Mr. Drinkwater shaves,
In Cow Lane lives A. Veal, undertaker.”

The English Language.

“A pretty deer is dear to me,
A hare with downy hair;
I love a hart with all my heart,
But barely bear a bear.
’Tis plain that no one takes a plane
To pare a pair of pears;
A rake, though, often takes a rake
To tear away the tares.
All rays raise thyme, time razes all;
And, through the whole, hole wears.
A writ, in writing ‘right,’ may write
It ‘wright,’ and still be wrong—
For ‘wright’ and ‘rite’ are neither ‘right,’
And don’t to ‘write’ belong.
Beer often brings a bier to man,
Coughing a coffin brings;
And too much ale will make us ail,
As well as other things.
The person lies who says he lies
When he is but reclining;
And when consumptive folks decline,
They all decline declining.
A quail don’t quail before a storm—
A bough will bow before it;
We cannot rein the rain at all—
No earthly powers reign o’er it;
The dyer dyes awhile, then dies;
To dye he’s always trying,
Until upon his dying bed
He thinks no more of dyeing.
A son of Mars mars many a sun;
All deys must have their days,
And every knight should pray each night
To Him who weighs his ways.
’Tis meet that man should mete out meat
To feed misfortune’s son;
The fair should fare on love alone,
Else one cannot be won.
A lass, alas! is something false;
Of faults a maid is made;
Her waist is but a barren waste—
Though stayed she is not staid.
The springs spring forth in spring, and shoots
Shoot forward one and all;
Though summer kills the flowers, it leaves
The leaves to fall in fall.
I would a story here commence,
But you might find it stale;
So let’s suppose that we have reached
The tail end of our tale.”

Spelling Reform.