"
Thus with purges and blisters,
Pills, bleeding, and clysters,
The poor patient they threatened
Should be deluged and sweatened.
Unable to endure the riot,
And wishing for a little quiet,
The sickman raised his head,
And said--
Gentlemen, I do beseech ye, cease your pother,
Nor any more with me your wise heads bother,
Scratching your wigs,
Like sapient pigs;
Whate'er you may decide is my disease,
I humbly do conceive a little ease
From your infernal noise and chatter.
With which I'm dunn'd
And nearly stunn'd,
Would greatly tend to mend the matter;
And if, perforce, I must resign my breath,
For heav'n's sake let me _die_ a NATURAL _death_.
P.M.
* * * * *
AN AGITATOR.
M. Monchenut, an old man of eighty, afflicted with the palsy, was
arrested during the reign of terror, under suspicion of being an agitator.
Being asked what he had to say to the accusation, "Alas, gentlemen, it is
very true, I am agitated enough, God knows, for I have not been able to
keep a limb still for these fifteen years.
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