As there is always one[167] in every town
Who prattles much and takes transactions down,
Who smears the placard, then besmears the wall;
So there’s in villages—however small—
A man whose wisdom he, perchance, conceives
Excels his neighbours’, but himself deceives,—
A fellow who detests hard healthful work,
(By birth a Jew, or it may be—a Turk,)
Existing on his wit or tortuous brains,
Perhaps dishonest; and who takes sad pains
T’effect the purpose of his daily life—
The source of much contention and of strife;
In contradiction to all those who hap
To come in contact with the wily chap:
Here, there, then, when, and how; tells all he knows
And more;—at length it comes to blows:
Some fellow now detects his fraudful game,
Becomes combatable; at last with aim
Deals on his cheek, or breast, a direful shock!
The boaster ’turns not; dares, nor feigns to knock
His adversary: and so, disquieted,
He sneaks away; but not discomfited—
For when ’tis twilight there he is again
With pleasant features, but distorted brain,
Inducing some way-faring man[168] to cards;
And whilst he shuffles, cuts, deals out, discards,
The knave has managed to get hold the ace
From out the pack; then with his wont grimace
Allows his trusty friend to win awhile
A few odd pence, and whilst he feigns a smile
He meditates to cheat him of his gold
Or silver coin; then dashes out so bold—
“Ace,” “king,” and “queen,” (himself the “jack,”)
And throws his comrade quite upon his back,
As ’twere! The man, being sorely duped and “done,”
Picks up his sundry wares and travels on. * * *
[167] A news-monger, or “bill-sticker.”
[168] Suppose him to be a pedler.