His Journey to the Metropolis; and Mercantile Transactions

Through woods obscure and rough perplexing ways,Slow and alone, he urged the clumsy wheel;Now stopping short, to let his horses graze,Now treating them with straw and Indian meal:At length a lofty steeple caught his eye,"Higher (thought he) than ever kite did fly:--But so it is, these churchmen are so proudThey ever will be climbing to a cloud;Bound on a sky-blue cruise, they always rigThe longest steeple, and the largest wig."Now safe arrived upon the pebbled way,Where well-born steeds the rattling coaches trail,Where shops on shops are seen--and ladies gayWalk with their curtains some, and some their veil;Where sons of art their various labors shewAnd one cries fish! and one cries muffins ho!Amaz'd, alike, the merchant, and his pairOf scare-crow steeds, did nothing else but stare;So new was all the scene, that, smit with awe,They grinn'd, and gaz'd, and gap'd at all they saw,And often stopp'd, to ask at every door,"Sirs, can you tell us where's the cheapest store!""The cheapest store (a sly retailer said)"Cheaper than cheap, guid faith, I have to sell;"Here are some colour'd cloths that never fade:"No other shop can serve you half so well;"Wanting some money now, to pay my rent,"I'll sell them at a loss of ten per cent.--"Hum-hums are here--and muslins--what you please--"Bandanas, baftas, pullcats, India teas;"Improv'd by age, and now grown very old,"And given away, you may depend--not sold!"Lured by the bait the wily shopman laid,He gave his steeds their mess of straw and meal,Then gazing round the shop, thus, cautious said,"Well, if you sell so cheap, I think we'll deal;"But pray remember, 'tis for goods I'm come,"For, as to polecats, we've enough at home--"Full forty pounds I have, and that in gold"(Enough to make a trading man look bold)"Unrig your shelves, and let me take a peep;"'Tis odds I leave them bare, you sell so cheap."The city merchant stood, with lengthen'd jaws;And stared awhile, then made this short reply--"You clear my shelves! (he said)--this trunk of gauze"Is more than all your forty pounds can buy:--"On yonder board, whose burthen seems so small"That one man's pocket might contain it all,"More value lies, than you and all your race"From Adam down, could purchase or possess."Convinced, he turn'd him to another street,Where humbler shopmen from the crowd retreat;Here caught his eye coarse callicoes and crape,Pipes and tobacco, ticklenburghs and tape.Pitchers and pots, of value not so highBut he might sell, and forty pounds would buy.Some jugs, some pots, some fifty ells of tape,A keg of wine, a cask of low proof rum,Bung'd close--for fear the spirit should escapeThat many a sot was waiting for at home;A gross of pipes, a case of home-made gin,Tea, powder, shot--small parcels he laid in;Molasses, too, for swichell-loving wights,(Swichell, that wings Sangrado's boldest flights,When bursting forth the wild ideas roll,Flash'd from that farthing-candle, call'd his soul:)All these he bought, and would have purchased more,To furnish out his Lilliputian store;But cash fell short--and they who smiled while yetThe cash remain'd, now took a serious fit:--No more the shop-girl could his talk endure,But, like her cat, sat sullen and demure.--The dull retailer found no more to say,But shook his head, and wish'd to sneak away,Leaving his house-dog, now, to make reply,And watch the counter with a lynx's eye.--Our merchant took the hint, and off he went,Resolv'd to sell at twenty-five per cent.