When prudish, to help out your fies and your

hushes, Miss,

What if you throw for this bottle of blushes,

Miss —

Sal-Volatile, when your lover gets ranting,

You'll find, that to tip him a faint may be

wanting.

Ma'am, a twee that won't leave a grey hair in

your brow.

Sir, a wife book to read in, that's — if you

know how,

[Aside.

Hall's, Benson's and Silver's, not saunter like

drones about,

But all come to Austin's, and here knock the

bones about.

Then, Ma'am &c.

III.

Ye Londoners, who would sling sorrow and cash

away,

Welcome to Margate, in Salt-water dash away.

Clean as a penny we'll souse, sop, and pickle ye;

Our of your gold, neat as Brighton we'll tickle

ye;

Says spousey to deary, to Margate we'll trip

In the dog-days, and give little Jacky a dip;

Tho' here in the Dilly, gay pleasure attend ye,

Yet back in the Hoy, poor as Job, we'll soon

send ye.

Then Ma'am &c.

Omai and Harlequin with Londina and Colombine leave Europe, and are pursued, which closes the First Part.

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