224

SEVENTEENTH EVENING.

Or m a ditch, both gig and you
Will tumble in a trice.

“ Spare, spare the whip, hold hard the reius,
The steeds go fast enough ;

Keep in the middle, beaten track,
Nor cross the ruts so rough :

« And when within the town you come,
Be sure, with special care,

Drive clear of signposts, booths, and stalls,
And monsters of the fair.”

The youth searce heard his father out,
But roar’d, “ Bring out the whisky !”

With joy he view’d the rolling wheels,
And prancing ponies frisky.

THe seized the reins, and. up he sprang,
And waved the whistling lash ;

“Take care! take care!” his father ecricd ;
But off he went, slap-dash.

“ Who’s this lignt spark P”’ the horses thought,
“We'll try your strength, young master ;”’
So, o’er the rugged turnpike-road,
Still faster ran, and faster.

Young Jehu, tott’ring in his seat,
Now wish’d to pull them in;

But pulling, from so young a hand,
They valued not a pin.

A drove of grunting pigs, before,
Ful’d up the narrow way ;

Dash through the midst the horses crove,
And made a rueful da; :

For some were trampled under foot,
Some erush’d beneath the wheel ;

Lord! how the drivers cursed and swore,
And how the pigs did squeal !