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MR. H-,




“ Mr. H, thou wert DAMNED. Bright shone the morning on the play oills that announced thy appearance, and the streets were filled with the buzz of persons asking one another if they would go to see Mr. H-, and answering that they would certainly; but before night the gayety, not of the author, but of his friends and the town, was eclipsed, for thou wert DAMNED! Hadst thou been anonymous, thou haply mighist have lived. But thou didst come to an untimely end for thy tricks, and for want of a better name to pass them off.”—Theatrical Esaminer.

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Gentlemen Ladies, Waiters, Servants, &e.



Ir we have sinn'd in paring down a name,
All civil, well-bred authors do the same.
Survey the columns of our daily writers
You'll find that some Initials are great fighters.
How fierce the shock, how fatal is the jar,
When Ensign W. meets Lieutenant R.
With two stout seconds, just of their own gizzard
Cross Captain X. and rough old General Izzard !
Letter to letter spreads the dire alarms,
Till half the alphabet is up in arms.
Nor with less lustre have Initials shone,
To grace the gentler annals of Crim. Con.,
Where the dispensers of the public lash
Soft penance give; a letter and a dash-
Where vice reduced in size shrinks to a failing,
And loses half her grossness by curtailing.
Faux pas are told in such a modest way-
The affair of Colonel B. with Mrs. A.-
You must forgive them-for what is there, say,
Which such a pliant vowel must not grant
To such a very pressing consonant?
Or who poetic justice dares dispute,
When mildly melting at a lover's suit.
The wife's a liquid, her good man a inute ?
Even in the homelier scenes of honest life,
The coarse-spun intercourse of man and wife,
Initials, I am told, have taken place
Of deary, spouse, and that oldfashioned race,
And Cabbage, ask'd by Brother Snip to tea,
Replies, “I'll come--but it don't rest with me
I always leaves them things to Mrs. C.”
Oh should this mincing fashion ever spread
From names of living heroes to the dead,
How would ambition sigh, and hang the head,
As each loved syllable should melt away-
Her Alexander turned into Great A.-
A single C. her Cesar to express-
Her Scipio shrunk into a Roman S.-
And nick'd and dock'd to these new modes of speech
Great Hannibal himself a Mr. H.




SCENE.—A Public Room in an Inn. Landlord, Waiters, Gen.

tlemen, fc.

Enter Mr. H. Mr. H. Landlord, has the man brought home my boots ? Landlord. Yes, sir. Mr. H. You have paid him?

Landlord. There is the receipt, sir, only not quite filled up; no name ; only blank—“Blank, Dr. to Zekiel Spanish for one pair of best hessians.” Now, sir, he wishes to know what name he shall put in; who he shall


6 Dr.” Mr. H. Why, Mr. H., to be sure.

Landlord. So I told him, sir ; but Zekiel has some qualms about it. He says, he thinks that Mr. H. only would not stand good in law.

Mr. H. Rot his impertinence, bid him put in Nebuchadnezzar, and not trouble me with his scruples. Landlord. I shall, sir.


Enter a Waiter.

Waiter. Sir, Squire Level's man is below, with a hare and a brace of pheasants for Mr. H.

Mr. H. Give the man half a crown, and bid him return my best respects to his master. Presents, it seems, will find me out, with any name or no name.

Enter 2d Waiter. 2d Waiter. Sir, the man that makes up the directory is at tho door.

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