Were I Laid On Greenland's Coast, And

Good Housewives All The Winter's Rage Despise, Defended By The Riding-hood's Disguise; Or, Underneath The Umbrella's Oily Shade, Safe Through The Wet On Clinking Pattens Tread, Let Persian Dames The Unbrella's Ribs Display, To Guard Their Beauties From The Sunny Ray; Or Sweating Slaves Support The Shady Load, When Eastern Monarchs Show Their State Abroad; Britain In Winter Only Knows Its Aid, To Guard From Chilling Showers The Walking Maid.

Do You Think Your Mother And I Should Have Lived Comfortably So Long Together, If Ever We Had Been Married? Baggage!

Fill It Up. I Take As Large Draughts Of Liquor As I Did Of Love. I Hate A Flincher In Either.

Whoever Heard A Man Of Fortune In England Talk Of The Necessaries Of Life? . . . Whether We Can Afford It Or No, We Must Have Superfluities.

Who Hath Not Heard The Rich Complain Of Surfeits, And Corporeal Pain? He Barr'd From Every Use Of Wealth, Envies The Ploughman's Strength And Health.