Martinsburg gazette. [volume] (Martinsburg, Va. [W. Va.]) 1833-1855, 1847-07-22
Canning's Knife-Grinder.

t1toiyt NtOt bitco 1Vut idNt uOHt " Ntl,
sir" These words are so often quoted, or at
least alluded TO. that they may be said TO have
become proyerbidl, yet thousands, probably,
even OF those who use them, do not know
where they belong, or in what connexon they
were originally written. The line is quota
ton from burlesque written by George Can
ming, when hatred Of Revolutionary France
was most v;rulent IN England among the
mass OF the people, though ultra liberal, not to
say revolutionary, principles were ardenily
protested and disseminated by many active
proselyters. The burlesque, published in a
high Tory periodical called the anti .Jacobin,
was aimed at poem then recently written by
Southey--before he was made poet laureate
in which vehement stress was laid upon
the defective organization Of society as the
main cause OF individual sorrows and suffer
ing. We quote one of the stanZas, merely to
show the kind of metre in which il was writ
ten, the burlesque being faithful copy in
this particular -
"Cold was the night wind drifting fast the
SHOWS fell;
Wide were the downs and shelterless and ma.
ked
When poor wanderer struggled on her jour
ney,
Weary and way sore"
The burlesque was entitled 'sThe Friend Of
humanity and the knife-sriHds-," and ran
thus -
FRIEND OF HUMANTY.
Needy Kniie-grinder whiiher are you going
Rough is yoar road, your wheel is out Of or
der;
Bleak blows the blast-your hat has got hole
So have your breeches
Weary Knife grinder little think the proud
ones,
Who in their coaches roll along the turnpike
Road, what hard work It's crying all day.
Knives and
Scissors to grind o."
Tell me, Knife Grinder, how came you 10
grind Knives?
Did some rich man financially use you2
Was it the squire, or parson ofthe parish,
Or the aitorney2
Was it the squire, for killing of his game or
Coveious parson, for his tithes distrainlng2
Or roguish lawyer, made you loose your little
All in lawsuit
(Have you not read the Rights Of Man, by
Tom Paine p
Drops or compassion remble on my eyelids.
Ready to fall as soon as you have told your
Pititul story.
KNEE GRINDER.
Story God bless you have none 10 tell.
sir;
Only last night, drinking at the Chequers,
This poor old hat and breeches, as you see,
were
Torn in scuffle.
Constables came up for to take me into
Custody they took me before the justice;
Justice Oldmixon put me into the parish
Stocks for vagrant.
| should be glad TO drink yonr honors health In
A pot OF beer, il you will give me sixpence;
But for my part, never love TO NEEDLE
With politics, sir.
FRIEND OF Humanity.
give thee sixpencel will see thee id
first
Wretch whom no sense Of wrongs can rouse
to vengeance.
Sordid, unfeeling, reprobate, degraded
Spiritless outcast
Kicks the knife grinder, overturns his wheel,
and exit in a transport Of republican enthu-
siasm and universal philanthropy.
That Anti-Jacobin. by the way, caused no
little laughter in its day, and was by no means
an efficient agency Of the tories IN the force Of
political dissensions of the time. There are
not many things we regret more than the OPP
portunity we neglected, once, of buying
complete copy, at bookstall in London, for a
very trihing sum- something less than dol
lar 70 ,,,a rarnanober r,oht ~ v Co,n