Tenderness Is A Virtue.

Pity And Friendship Are Two Passions Incompatible With Each Other.

As In Some Irish Houses, Where Things Are So-so, One Gammon Of Bacon Hangs Up For A Show; But, For Eating A Rasher Of What They Take Pride In, They'd As Soon Think Of Eating The Pan It Is Fried In.

Elegy On The Death Of A Mad Dog And In That Town A Dog Was Found, As Many Dogs There Be, Both Mongrel, Puppy, Whelp, And Hound, And Curs Of Low Degree.

As For Murmurs, Mother, We Grumble A Little Now And Then, To Be Sure; But There's No Love Lost Between Us.

Like The Tiger, That Seldom Desists From Pursuing Man After Having Once Preyed Upon Human Flesh, The Reader Who Has Once Gratified His Appetite With Calumny Makes Ever After The Most Agreeable Feast Upon Murdered Reputations!