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Miscellanies in Prose and Verse

By Mrs. Catherine Jemmat
 

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The British pickled Herring and Anchovy.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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126

The British pickled Herring and Anchovy.

Quo' the last to the first, with an insolent scoff,
Whence com'st thou, intruder? March instantly off.
What! thou me supplant, who, from earliest days,
For enliv'ning a bumper have won ev'ry praise;
Who, exalting rich sauces, and crowning deserts,
Am oft, at kings tables, the rival of tarts?
Not shock'd at th' attack, tho' amaz'd at the pride,
With an air of disdain the bright Herring reply'd,
'Tis own'd, you add flavour to generous wine;
That a hash you improve, and a sauce you refine;
I add, for the latter, you're known to excel;
Yet in height'ning a toast surely I bear the bell.
Besides, your an alien, the son of a pope,
Whence multitudes think that you merit a rope.
But I, born a Briton, to freedom true blue,
Will soon rid the land of such whiflers as you.