A COUNTRY curate, visiting his flock, At old Rebecca's cottage gave a knock. "Good morrow, dame, I mean not any libel, But in your dwelling have you got a Bible?" "A Bible, sir?" exclaimed she in a rage, "D'ye think I've turned a Pagan in my age? Here, Judith, and run upstairs, my dear, 'Tis in the drawer, be quick and bring it here." The girl return'd with Bible in a minute, Not dreaming for a moment what was in it; When lo! on opening it at parlor door, Down fell her spectacles upon the floor. Amaz'd she stared, was for a moment dumb, But quick exclaim'd, "Dear sir, I'm glad you're come. 'Tis six years since these glasses first were lost, And I have miss'd 'em to my poor eyes' cost!" Then as the glasses to her nose she raised, She closed the Bible -- saying, "God be praised!" |