192 A BOOK ABOUT THE GARDEN. 



They met, and the present 'e brought for poor Jane 

 Was a knife, which 'e put to 'er jugyleer vein ; 

 And then with a fury, hi ne'er 'erd the loikes, 

 'E throwed fair Miss Jones to the chubs and the poikes 

 Ho, cleavers and bones, &c. 



'E sailed off next inoraing to Ha-meri-ka, 

 But a storm met the ship ere she'd got arf 'er way ; 

 The waves they did foam, and the lightnings did fly, 

 And a thunderbolt 'it Sammel Cox in the hi ! 



Ho, cleavers and bones, &c. 



S. Cox hupon this lost 'is presence o' mind, 

 And likewise 'is legs, for a nowlin gret wind 

 Blow'd 'iin bang overboard, and the sailors hagree 

 As a shark nipped 'iru hup, when 'e got to the sea. 



Ho, scrunching 'is bones, havenging Miss Jones, &c. 



XIV. 



MORAL. 



Young ladies hengaged with gay butchers don't dally, 

 Or p'r'aps you may meet this sad fate of Miss Sally ; 

 And gentilmen hall from the gin-bottle fly, 

 Hor a thunderbolt's sure to 'it you in the hi. 



Ho, cleavers and bones, &c. 



CHAPTER XII. 

 MY MINIATURE GARDEN. 



BY THE CURATE. 



IT is within the range of your sad experience that 

 we gardeners are subject to bitter disappointments, 



