e pigs,
Their cry is not so fine:
And if you have not, don't delay,
'Tis nearly half-past nine.

Wife.--There, now your noisy din begins,
Ding, ding, and endless ding,
I do believe your scolding voice
Me to the grave will bring.

H.--Were you to drop in there to-day,
This day would end my sorrow.

W.--But I shall not to please you, Mog,
To-day, nor yet to-morrow.

H.--Oh! were you, Jane, to leave this world,

W.--And you to beg and borrow,

H.--Stop, Jane, talk not so silly, Jane,

W.--Not at your bidding, never;
I'd talk as long as I thought fit,
Were I to live for ever.

H.--Your voice if raised a little more,
Would rouse the very dead,
A pretty noise, because I ask'd
If you the pigs had fed.

W.--I'll raise my voice, Mog, louder still,
As sure as you were born,
Why should you ask "How many loaves
Came from the peck of corn?"

H.--Should not the master of the house
Know every undertaking?

W.--And wear his wife's own crinoline,
And try his hand at baking!

H.--The breeches you would like to wear!

W.--What vulgar jests you're making!

H.--Stop Jane, stop Jane, don't speak so loud,
Your noise will stun the cattle!

W.--The only noise that could do that
Is your continued rattle.

H.--As sounds a bee upon her back,
So does this wasp I've got,
And all because I ask'd if she
Had fed the pigs or not.

W.--Your peevish growling, Mog, is worse,
Yes, ten times worse and more,
Still asking, "How this churning gave
Less than the one before?"

H.--You know the butter pays our rent,
And many another matter.

W.--I know that if the cows are starved
They won't get any fatter!

H.--I give the cows enough to eat.

W.--Well do, and hold your clatter.

H.--Stop Jane, stop Jane, confound your noise,
'Twould shame a barrel organ.

W.--If I were half as loud as you,
I think it would, Old Morgan!

H.--Your temper, Jane, will drive me soon
To share a soldier's lot,
To march with gun and martial tune
'Midst powder, smoke, and shot.

W.--What! you a soldier? never, Mog!
Your heart is coward too,
You'll fight with no one but with me,
You've then enough to do!

H.--I'll go and fight the mighty Czar,
To aid the Turkish nation.

W.--Then go, a greater Turk than you
Breathes not within creation!

H.--For shame, to call your husband Turk.

W.--Such is my pledg'd relation.

H.--Stop Jane, stop Jane, let's now shake hands
And we'll be henceforth friends.

W.--No, not till you have stopp'd