With watch in hand, Joe ’gan to moan

With watch in hand, Joe ’gan to moan— While tears stole from his eye— “Is this enough, John, as a loan?” “Yes,” was the man’s reply. “Ah! John,” said Captain, “this old jew’l Belong’d to my grandsire; To take it from me ’tis, ’tis cruel.” * * * With cheeks flushed up like fire The Captain rushed into the street— A labyrinth of beings— In hopes somewhere a friend to meet. He scans all sorts of things,

And prays to Providence he may (His eyes bedimm’d with tears,) Detect the rogue this very day: “That I might ring the ears Of him, the wretch! that plunder’d me, And brought me to such grief,— Could I the rascal only see, ’Twould be, O! Lord, relief: I’d thrust him madly in the muck, Him trundle to a toad:— O! heaven, pray change this direful luck, And let the devils goad” * * * Joe almost swoon’d: he bent his head, And press’d his aching sides; A hundred times wish’d he was dead, And that d——’d rogue besides: Search’d all his pockets o’er and o’er, But not a mite could find; Scratch’d his poor temples till so sore It worried his poor mind:— Again he felt!—rais’d up his face! “What’s this? what’s this?” exclaim’d. “A button? no!—they’re all in place,”— A “godsend!” (’tis reclaim’d).