112 



notion of what is meant by the fat of the land, till 

 he has feasted off a hone of this kind, under such 

 circumstances. 



When we were done, we hegan to philosophise. 

 Most men do so after being fed. We began to 

 rummage up our knowledge of bones. We remem- 

 bered that funny personage, Count Eumford, and 

 his Essay on Bones ; and likewise the story in the 

 Persian Tales, where it is stated that a man " staid 

 a whole year with the genii of the earth, feeding on 

 nothing but herbs." As for the genii themselves, 

 their common nourishment was bones ; these bones 

 made their rarest entertainments ; and whilst they 

 were grinding them with their teeth, they would 

 cry out, "what excellent food they were." When 

 our disquisitions had ended, and we had taken a 

 little of the mountain dew, we made up a hash of the 

 following lines on our rich and providential repast : 



0, noble bone ! dear token of joy past, 



Have we not shown we lov'd thee to the last? 



Come ! let us tell thee, Shankie, ere we part, 



How like a sage philosopher thou art. 



Lean, insignificant, fit for the fire, 



We even threw thee on it in our ire. 



But from the ashes like the phoenix lo ! 



Thou breath edst forth in re-existing glow 



Of flavour double strong. 0, glorious bone ! 



Say, have we loved thee for thyself alone ? 



Yet, though we've torn the meat from off thy back, 



And sucked the juices which thy sides now lack, 



An honourable bone thou art, indeed, 



For unto us thou wert a friend in need 



