At the top a fried liver and bacon were seen; In the middle a place where the pasty-was not. rogue, With his long-winded speeches, his smiles, and his brogue: And, Madam,' quoth he, may this bit be my poison, A prettier dinner I never set eyes on; Pray a slice of your liver, though may I be carst But I've eat of your tripe till I'm ready to burst.' The tripe,' quoth the Jew, with his chocolate cheek, I could dine on this tripe seven days in a week: I like these here dinners so pretty and small; But your friend there, the doctor, eats nothing at all.' O ho quoth my friend, he'll come on in a trice, He's keeping a corner for something that's nice: There's pasty., A pasty!' repeated the jew: 'I don't care if I keep a corner for't too.' What the de'il mon, a pasty? re-echoed the Scot; Though splitting, I'll still keep a corner for that." 'We'll all keep a corner,' the lady cried out; 'We'll all keep a corner', was echoed about. While thus we resolv'd, and the pasty delay'd, With looks that quite petrified, enter'd the maid; A visage so sad, and so pale with affright, Wak'd Priam in drawing his curtains by night. But we quickly found out (for who could mistake. her?) That she came with some terrible news from the baker: And so it fell out, for that negligent sloven |