Quæ Genus Gives A Grand Party.]

Miss Emily, the blooming niece } Of the old Broker, Master Squeeze, } Who made some figure in the piece, } And, at no very distant page, Was seen to figure on the stage; The Lady all her points had carried, Was rich, and had the Pleader married; Had chang'd her uncle's name of Squeeze'em To her shrewd husband's, Lawyer Seize'em: Who, by his cunning and his skill, Had brought all contests to her will, When he had got his promis'd fee Of Beauty, Wealth and Luxury. To her, with smiles of gay content, The 'Squire his eager footsteps bent, And did in lofty tone proclaim His change of fortune as of name; And told her it would be his pride, At a small Fête would she preside, Which he propos'd in style to give, Where he would all her friends receive; For this was now the only way He had to make his party gay: And the first flourish of his plan To figure as a Gentleman. --She smil'd and said she'd bring him plenty, Then ask'd at once his cards for twenty. --The fête was given,--the dance, the song, And feasting did the night prolong, Which pleasure gave to full two score, Whom he had never seen before;-- But, his great object to maintain, These he must strive to see again; At all their doors his cards present, And thus, by various compliment, To form a circle of such friends As would secure his serious ends, In social ease to pass the day, And often find an evening gay. --But 'Squire Free-born quickly found He did not tread on solid ground, And 'gan to fear he should not see The way to that society, Which forms of life the happiest measure: By mutual interchange of pleasure. --'Twas but slight chat if he should meet His new acquaintance in the street; He seldom found, or more or less, But gen'ral forms of politesse, And that, too often, at the best, Was but in flimsy style exprest. --Ladies would ask him to the play, To take his arm and let him pay; And when to cards, he always lost More than the wine and biscuits cost. He found, as yet, but little done-- 'Twas neither common sense nor fun, Where kind regard would ne'er encrease, And int'rest wak'd the wish to please; Where words were either cold or hearty, As he propos'd to give a party; And a good supper was the charm That did to transient friendship warm, For that, alas, no longer lasted, Than while they thought on what they tasted.

'Squire Free-born soon began to feel A relaxation in his zeal To push away that class among Who did his evening parties throng, From whom no fair return was made, And mod'rate fashion was display'd. Manners were ap'd, but in a way That did vulgarity betray; And the best show that he might see, Was dash of awkward finery:-- Besides, a rude and rough event Gave spirit to his discontent. --He call'd, one day, where, on admission, The parties were in sad condition; It was a scene of mutual flame, 'Tween Start-up and his lovely dame. He was a clerk on public duty, And she a most conceited beauty: When, as he enter'd, her sharp tongue Began in tones both harsh and strong,-- "Pray, FREE-BORN, do you think it breeding, That he should thus be always reading? When he does from his office come 'Tis thus he sits hum-drum at home, As if he thought so low my wit I'm not for conversation fit; Nor does he seem to rate me higher Than to trace figures in the fire!" --"Call you, hum-drum, that information So suited to official station," He sternly said, "which now engages Attention to these curious pages!" --"My mind," she cried, "was in the dark When I was married to a Clerk:-- O had I join'd a fool instead Of one to office breeding bred! He, who in honour should protect me, You see, Sir, how he dares neglect me!" --In terms polite to praise and blame, Free-born now hop'd to quench the flame, And therefore offer'd, nothing loth, To give a little spice of both.