Trew
Tale. Phansy a country through whose werdant planes the selvery Garonne
wines, like--like a benevvolent sarpent. In its plasid busum antient
cassles, picturask willidges, and waving woods are reflected. Purple
hills, crownd with inteak ruings; rivvilets babbling through gentle
greenwoods; wight farm ouses, hevvy with hoverhanging vines, and from
which the appy and peaseful okupier can cast his glans over goolden
waving cornfealds, and M. Herald meddows in which the lazy cattle are
graysinn; while the sheppard, tending his snoughy flox, wiles away the
leisure mominx on his loot--these hoffer but a phaint pictur of the
rurial felissaty in the midst of widge Crinoline and Hesteria de
Viddlers were bawn.

Their Par, the Marcus de Viddlers, Shavilear of the Legend of Honor and
of the Lion of Bulgum, the Golden Flease, Grand Cross of the Eflant and
Castle, and of the Catinbagpipes of Hostria, Grand Chamberleng of
the Crownd, and Major-Genaril of Hoss-Mareens, &c. &c. &c.--is the
twenty-foth or fith Marquis that has bawn the Tittle; is disended
lenyally from King Pipping, and has almost as antient a paddygree as
any which the Ollywell Street frends of the Member of Buckinumsheer can
supply.

His Marchyniss, the lovely & ecomplisht Emily de St. Cornichon, quitted
this mortial spear very soon after she had presented her lord with the
two little dawling Cherrybins above dixcribed, in whomb, after the loss
of that angle his wife, the disconslit widderer found his only jy on
huth. In all his emusemints they ecumpanied him; their edjacation was
his sole bisniss; he atcheaved it with the assistnce of the ugliest and
most lernid masters, and the most hidjus and egsimplary governices which
money could procure. R, how must his peturnle art have bet, as these
Budds, which he had nurrisht, bust into buty, and twined in blooming
flagrance round his pirentle Busm!

The villidges all round his hancestral Alls blessed the Marcus and his
lovely hoffsprig. Not one villidge in their naybrood but was edawned by
their elygint benifisns, and where the inhabitnts wern't rendered
appy. It was a pattern pheasantry. All the old men in the districk
were wertuous & tockative, ad red stockins and i-eeled drab shoes,
and beautiful snowy air. All the old women had peaked ats, and crooked
cains, and chince gowns tucked into the pockits of their quiltid
petticoats; they sat in pictarask porches, pretendin to spinn, while the
lads and lassis of the v