"Madam," replied the Gascon, "how can you reward me for passing a night with this old fellow?"
The widow answered, with a laugh, "Perhaps by admitting you to pass a night with one you think more agreeable."
He took the hint, put on his night clothes, and had not been in bed above an hour before he heard a knocking at the door, and the treading of one who approached the other side of the bed, and who he did not question was the good man of the house. I do not know whether the story would be the better by telling you in this place, or at the end of it, that the person who went to bed to him was our young coquette widow.
The Gascon was in a terrible fright every time she moved in the bed, or turned towards him, and did not fail to shrink from her, till he had conveyed himself to the very edge of the bed. I will not dwell upon the perplexity he was in the whole night, which was augmented when he observed that it was now broad day, and that the husband did not yet offer to get up and go about his business. All that the Gascon had for it was to keep his face turned from him, and feign himself asleep, when to his utter confusion the widow at last put out her arm and pulls the bell at her bed head. In came her friend, and two or three companions to whom the Gascon had boasted of her favours. The widow jumped into a wrapping gown, and joined with the rest at laughing at this man of intrigue.
AFFAIRS IN GREECE
Affairs in Greece have caused some ire,
And fat's been thrown into the fire;
To sing my song I will begin,
For remember, mine's not a case of tin.
In fashion's great Belgravia
Lived a voluptuous cookey dear,
Amongst her beaus who were the don,
Was butler James and footman John;
Now John meant marriage, that be sure,
But James meant stuff, and nothing more.
The cook knew this, and tho' sweet upon the butler,
She gammoned the modest with the other.
To the pantry every day 'tis clear,
Voluptuous cookey used to repair,
Tho' a novel place for such a treat,
Twas there James used to spit cook's meat.
One day the footman wanting cook,
About the house in vain did look;
Altho' he no suspicion bore,
At length he knocked at the pantry door, The cook let in the flunkey dear, The butler hid in the pantry near.
John grew quite bold, he'd had some lush, And began to finger cookey's plush, The cook resisted all she could — She'd acquaint her mistress, that she would.
John heeded her not, but slackened his smalls, And gave her a taste of his forced meat balls.
"Oh, don't," says she, "oh, don't, oh lor'!
You're going where no one's been afore!"
When the butler roars with lungs of brass -
'Then I'm damn'd if he aint going up your arse!"
ADVENTURES AND AMOURS OF A BARMAID A SERIES OF FACTS
Polly D- is the daughter of an inkeeper in a market town in the county of W — . From the earliest infancy she was not less remarkable for the vivacity of her temper, than the beauty of her person. Mr. D-, her father, contemplated with the greatest delight the growing charms of his youthful daughter; which, with a proper education, he thought when her person arrived at maturity, would be a most captivating ornament for the decoration of his bar.
Accordingly, at the age of twelve, Miss Polly was sent to a boarding school a short distance from her native home for the purpose of learning a few fashionable embellishments. After staying at this seminary a competent time, the lovely girl was returned to the longing eyes of her fond father, replete with every accomplishment that is in the power of those elegant receptacles of female education to bestow.
For a few months after the arrival of our heroine at her native place, her father gratified every wish of her heart; but he soon began to perceive, with inexpressible regret, the taste his fair daughter had imbibed for dress, and every other extravagance which young ladies, who have had the benefit of a boarding-school education, generally learn. He then lamented with the greatest concern the sums which he had lavished in the vain hope of making his beloved child a perfect mistress of the business of keeping an inn. Polly had an utter contempt for everything that was low and vulgar; therefore, the uncouth admiration of the country squires could not but be disgusting to her.
During the time of our heroine's being bar-mistress or barmaid, if the reader pleases, a company of strolling players arrived in the town, in order to exhibit their talents for the amusement of the country folks. Miss Polly was greatly pleased at this, for she had been once or twice indulged with a play whilst at school, and had, we must confess, a taste for theatrical performances. The King's Head being the principal inn in the town, it cannot be supposed but the merry sons of Thalia made it a house of constant resort; nor is it surprising that, in their frequent visits, the greatest notice should be taken of the all captivating Polly. Indeed, the manager, who was a very polite man, soon made himself intimate with her; and all the hours that he appropriated to the drowning of care were spent in the company of our heroine. She had been long a stranger to adulation, and it is not to be wondered at if the insinuating eloquence of the leader of the sock and buskin tribe had not great influence over the heart of this lively and beautiful girl. In short, he prevailed upon her when the company was about to quit the town to accompany him.
Our heroine, no less delighted with the thought of "wielding the dagger," as of exhibiting her person on the stage before a country audience, the manager had not much difficulty in gaining her consent, especially upon promising that her first appearance should be in the character of Desdemona.
Mr. D-, being now quite tired of his daughter's extravagance, and she of the business of retailing, did not give himself any sort of trouble on her being supposed to have gone off with the player folks; but, on the contrary, to use his own words, "was very glad she had taken herself off."
However, the personal charms of our heroine, which were universally allowed to be inexpressibly beautiful, attracted the merited admiration of every lover of female excellence, her manifest deficiency in every part she undertook could not escape observation; indeed the manager well knew this, but it was the desire of enjoying the person of the fair Polly that prompted him to decoy the unsuspecting maid from her father's house. He had tried every art in vain to obtain his wish; and when he was fairly convinced the port was impregnable, he sincerely began to hate the poor girl as much as he had formerly loved her.
Our heroine could not but perceive this, which, together with the thoughts of owing a considerable sum to her landlady for board and lodging, and for which she had been more than once solicited, gave her some unpleasant moments, which even the natural liveliness of her temper could not at all times dissipate.
As she sat one morning ruminating upon these ideas, a note was brought to her in the following words: "Colonel H-'s compliments to Miss D — , would be exceedingly happy if she will grant him an hour's conversation this evening, after the play is over." Our heroine, seeing a servant in a genteel livery waiting for an answer, imagined this billet could come from no person of mean circumstances; and as she was now really destitute of money, and her landlady become very troublesome, began to think that it would be the best way to recruit herself by disposing of that commodity which had been so much wished for by more than one, but no price, in her own estimation, offered any way equal to the value of the purchase. With these thoughts in her head she returned for answer that she should be happy to see the colonel at the time appointed.