[phamicom-devel] Fate will frown; The clumsy kitchen c

[Batiste <her...@de...>]

 the youth, Maids, to this day, their story tell: And hence the proverb
rose, that Truth Lies in the bottom of a well. [Illustration] DICK
ended:--TOM and WILL approve'd his strains; And thought his Legend made
as good a figure As naturalizing a dull German's brains, Which beget
issues in the Heliconian stews, Upon a profligate _Tenth_ Muse, In all
the gloomy _impotence of vigour_.[1] "'Twas now the very witching time
of night, When _Prosers_ yawn."--Discussion grew diffuse: Argument's
_carte and tierce_ were lost, outright: And they fought loose. Says
WILL, quite carelessly,--"the other day, As I was lying on my back, In
bed, I took a fancy in my head;-- Some writings aren't so difficult as
people say;-- They are _a knack_." "What writings? whose?" says
TOM--raking the cinders. "Many," cried WILL:--"For instance,--PETER
PINDAR'S." "What! call you his a knack?"--"Yes;--mind his measure, In
_that_ lies half the _point_ that gives us pleasure." "Pooh!--'tisn't
that," DICK cried-- "_That_ has been tried, Over and over:--Bless your
souls! 'Tis seen in _Crazy Tales_, and twenty things beside: His measure
is as old as Poles." "Granted," cries WILL: "I know I'm s