Published 2<sup>nd</sup> February 1798, by L. AURIE & WHITTLE, 53 Fleet Street, London.

THE OLD CHEESE;

An Original Tale,

RECITED BY MR. FAWCETT, AT COVENT-GARDEN THEATRE.

YOUNG Slouch, the farmer, had a jolly wife,
That knew all the conveniences of life,

Whole diligence and cleanliness supplied

The wit which Nature had to him denied:

But then she had a tongue that would be heard,

And make a better man than Slouch afraid.

This made cenforious persons of the town

Say, Slouch could hardly call his foul his own;

For, if he went abroad too much, she'd ufe

To give him flippers, and lock up his shoes.

Talking he lov'd, and ne'er was more afflicted

Than when he was diffurb'd, or contradicted;

Yet still into his story she would break

With—"'Tis not so; pray give me leave to speak."

His friends thought this was a tyrannic rule,

Not diff'ring much from calling of him fool;

Told him he must exert himself, and be,

In fact, the master of his family.

He said "That the next Tuesday noon would shew

"Whether he were the lord at home, or no;

"When their good company he would entreat

"To well-brew'd ale, and clean, if homely, meat."

With aching heart home to his wife he goes,

And on his knees does his rafh aft difcloſe;

And prays dear Sukey, that, one day at leaſt,

He might appear as master of the feaſt.

"I'll grant your will," cries ſhe, "that you may fee

"Twere wisdom to be govern'd still by me."

The gueſts upon the day appointed came,

Each bowſy farmer with his ſimp'ring dame.

"Ho, Sue!" cries Slouch, "why do't not thou appear?

"Are theſe thy manners when aunt Snap is here?

"I pardon aſk," ſays Sue; "I'd not offend

"Any my dear invites, much leſs his friend."

Slouch, by his kinfman Gruffy, had been taught

To entertain his friends with finding fault,

And make the main ingredient of his treat,

His—"faying there was nothing fit to eat:

"The boild pork ſinks, the roaſt beef is not enough,

"The bacon's rufſy, and the hens are tough;

"The veal's all rags, the butter's turn'd to oil;

"And thus I buy good meat for fluts to ſpoil.

"'Tis we are the firſt Slouches ever ſat

"Down to a pudding without plums or fat.

"What teeth or ſtomach's ſtrong enough to feed

"Upon a goofe my grannum kept to breed?

"Why muſt old pigeons, and they ſtale, be dreſt,

"When there's ſo many ſquab ones in the neſt?

"This beer is four; 'tis muſſy, thick, and ſtale,

"And worſe than any thing, except the ale."

Sue all this while many excufes made:

Some things ſhe own'd; at other times ſhe laid

The fault on chance, but oft'ner on the maid.

Then cheeſe was brought, ſays Slouch. "This "e'en ſhall roll;

"I'm ſure 'tis hard enough to make a bowl;

"This is ſkim-milk, and therefore it ſhall go;

"And this, becauſe 'tis Suffolk, follow too."

But now Sue's patience did begin to waeſt;

Nor longer could diffimulation laſt.

"Pray let me rife," ſays Sue, "my dear; I'll find

"A cheeſe perhaps may be to lovy's mind."

Then in an entry ſtanding cloſe, where he

Alone, and none of all his friends, might fee;

And brandiſhing a cudgel he had ſeſt,

And far enough on this occafion ſmelt.—

"I'll try, my joy," ſhe cried, "if I can pleaſe

"My deareft with a tafe of his Old Cheeſe!"

Slouch turn'd his head, ſaw his wife's vigorous hand

Wielding her oaken ſapling of command,

Knew well the twang—"Is't the Old Cheeſe my dear?

"No need, no need of Cheeſe," cries Slouch; "I'll ſwear,
"I think, I've din'd as well as my Lord Mayor!"

BM 9332
L-A, Vol. VII, 1798