trong abilities in drinking; though they are such
whom the liquor, not the conversation, keeps together. But blockheads
may roar, fight, and stab, and be never the nearer; their labour is also
lost; they want sense: they are no rakes.

As a rake among men is the man who lives in the constant abuse of his
reason, so a coquette among women is one who lives in continual
misapplication of her beauty. The chief of all whom I have the honour to
be acquainted with, is pretty Mrs. Toss: she is ever in practice of
something which disfigures her, and takes from her charms; though all
she does, tends to a contrary effect. She has naturally a very agreeable
voice and utterance, which she has changed for the prettiest lisp
imaginable. She sees what she has a mind to see, at half a mile distance;
but poring with her eyes half shut at every one she passes by, she
believes much more becoming. The Cupid on her fan and she have their eyes
full on each other, all the time in which they are not both in motion.
Whenever her eye is turned from that dear object, you may have a glance,
and your bow, if she is in humour, returned as civilly as you make it;
but that must not be in the presence of a man of greater quality: for
Mrs. Toss is so thoroughly well bred, that the chief person present has
all her regards. And she, who giggles at divine service, and laughs at
her very mother, can compose herself at the approach of a man of a good
estate.

Will's Coffee-house, June 9.

A fine lady showed a gentleman of this company, for an eternal answer to
all his addresses, a paper of verses, with which she is so captivated,
that she professed, the author should be the happy man in spite of all
other pretenders. It is ordinary for love to make men poetical, and it
had that effect on this enamoured man: but he was resolved to try his
vein upon some of her confidantes or retinue, before he ventured upon so
high a theme as herself. To do otherwise than so, would be like making
an heroic poem a man's first attempt. Among the favourites to the fair
one, he found her parrot not to be in the last degree: he saw Poll had
her ear, when his sighs were neglected. To write against him, had been a
fruitless labour; therefore he resolved to flatter him into his
interests, in the following manner:

#"To a Lady on her Parrot.#

_"When nymphs were coy, and love could not prevail,
The gods disguised were seldom known to fail,
Leda was chaste, but yet a