'Tis rumored our Manager means to bespeak
The Church tumblers from Exeter Hall for next week;
And certainly ne'er did a queerer or rummer set
Throw, for the amusement of Christians, a summerset.
'Tis feared their chief "Merriman," C--ke, cannot come,
Being called off, at present, to play Punch at home;
And the loss of so practised a wag in divinity
Will grieve much all lovers of jokes on the Trinity;--
His pun on the name Unigenitus, lately
Having pleased Robert Taylor, the _Reverend_, greatly.
'Twill prove a sad drawback, if absent he be,
As a wag Presbyterian's a thing quite to see;
And, 'mong the Five Points of the Calvinists, none of 'em
Ever yet reckoned a point of wit one of 'em.
But even tho' deprived of this comical elf,
We've a host of _buffoni_ in Murtagh himself.
Who of all the whole troop is chief mummer and mime,
And Coke takes the _Ground_ Tumbling, _he_ the
_Sublime_;[1]
And of him we're quite certain, so pray come in time.
[1] In the language of the play-bills, "Ground and _Lofty_ Tumbling."
LETTER II.
FROM MISS BIDDY FUDGE TO MRS. ELIZABETH ----.
Just in time for the post, dear, and monstrously busy,
With godly concernments--and worldly ones, too;
Things carnal and spiritual mixt, my dear Lizzy,
In this little brain till, bewildered and dizzy,
'Twixt heaven and earth, I scarce know what I do.
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