, not to use
that Diversion near some particular Places about this Great City, where
many curious Epigrams, Sonnets, and Whims, are at present uncopy'd; and
if they should escape a few Days longer, will make a fourth Volume, with
the kind Assistance of those Correspondents who have sent me promissory
Notes for the Delivery of certain Parcels of such Wit, on or about the
Twenty-fifth of this Instant _January_. I remain, Gentlemen, after
hoping you are in good Health, as I am at this present Writing, and
wishing you all many happy Years,

_Your obliged humble Servant,_

HURLO THRUMBO.

THE

MERRY-THOUGHT.

PART III.

Mr. _BOG_,

The following _Miscellanea Curiosa_ you may either insert in your third
Part, or use them for your latter Part; which you please.

_From a Window at the Angel in Marlborough._

_W----s_ lay at the _Angel_ in _Marlborough_ Town,
And an Angel lay with him all Night:
He tipp'd her an Angel before she lay down,
Which you know was but decent and right.
But an Angel of Darkness she prov'd to be sure;
For scarce twenty Angels would pay for his Cure.

_Written on the Wall at the George in Sandy-Lane, in the Bath Road,
a Place famous for Puddings._

The Puddings are so good in _Sandy-Lane_,
That if I chance to go that Way again,
I'll not be satisfy'd, unless I've twain,
The one stuck thick with Plumbs, the other plain.

_At the Sun-Tavern at Billingsgate, written on the Wainscot._

Upon the Ground he spread his Cloak;
The Nymph she was not shy, Sir;
And there they fairly did the Joke,
Whilst through this Crack peep'd I, Sir.

_Oct._ 27, 1722.

_Underwritten._

Mr. Pimp, had I known your Worship was there,
Which I no more dreamt of, than sleeping,
When once I'd dispatch'd my Affair with the Fair,
By G----d, you'd paid dear for your Peeping.

_Dec._ 1722.

_At the Red-Lion, Shrewsbury._

The Drawer, _Tom_, has scarce forgot,
Since I was here last _Easter_;
I broke his Head with the Pewter Pot,
And gave him not a Teaster.
But why, d'ye think, I serv'd him so?
What Flesh alive could bear it?
I'd call'd a dozen Times, I trow,
Yet the Dog would bring no Claret.
This Discipline was not in vain,
For h'as his Manners mended;
I've been here twenty Times since then,
And always well attended.

_From a Window in Carlisle, the Sign forgot._

How says the Proverb, c