The Quadrupedes, &c., Or, Four-footed Petitioners, against the Sale of Nun's-Green. A Terrestrial Poem. Written by me The Celestial Bard!!

☞I sing of Asses:——(A Motto of my own.) Two Jack-Asses, (the Father, and his Son,) Who, after work, on Nun's-Green us'd to run Exactly like two Bards;—the other day Stood in a muse;—and then began to bray With human voice;—For Balaam's breed were they. Quoth old Ned, to his Lad;—"I have been told, Nun's-Green, my little dear, is to be sold To pave, and light, old Derby; (fulsome town!) And save the Poor from laying money down. Now is it fair, that you and I should be Depriv'd of our just Rights, and Property? It is an Insult on the Jack-Ass kind, Who have possess'd this Green, time out of mind; And in Co-partnership with Pigs and Geese (A truly ancient, honorable race!) Enjoy'd a bit o' mouth, and Common run, Quite down from John of Ghent, to you my son. "Say little David, why the devil should Asses Find fault with dirty ways, and narrow passes? These wild Projectors, are the Asses foes, For pavements, boy, will only hurt our toes; And when the town's improv'd, in proud array We poor Jack-Asses, shall be driven away! No panniers then, forsooth, must there be seen, So let us all unite to keep Nun's-Green." The youthful Ass, brim full of spiteful Ire, Prick'd up his ears; and answer'd thus, his Sire, "This shall not be;—this shall not come to pass; They shall not rob us of our lawful grass! And if to Parliament the Knaves should stray, We'll throw Petitions in the Robbers' way." So saying, young David, on all fours bent, To Lawyer Goose, for pious counsel went: Quill took his fee, (the life and soul of Law) Then heard the Case; and thus, unscrew'd his jaw: "You must petition, Sir; and every creature That is aggriev'd, must put his pen to paper: "As hunters' pudding, we most toothsome find, The more with currants or with plumbs, 'tis lin'd; So your Petition will disturb their dreams, The more 'tis stuff'd, with any kind of names." "Thank ye," quoth he; "my business now is done; Back to my Daddy, and Nun's-Green I'll run;" So saying, swift he flew; and Edward found All at his ease; and rolling on the ground: The scrawl he read; and all compos'dly then, Stretch'd forth his hoofs; and 'twixt them held his pen, The paper sign'd, and after him the Geese, And Pigs, aggriev'd;—fill'd up each vacant space. Yet not enough, to please his craving maw, And answer all the good intents of Law, Young David did a glorious thought reveal; "That Rats, and Mice, would suffer by the Sale! And by destroying Swamps, and wholesome Bogs, It must invade the property of Frogs! So these amongst the rest, as I divine Should be solicited, forthwith to sign." "Right;" said old Ned, "you reason well, my son; Directly to the dikes, and gutters run; And if you cannot there, get names enough, Employ some Rat to canvass every sough." Away he went;—away, away, went he; Out came my Lady Froggy, who but she! Smirk'd at the paper, nibb'd her crow quill pen, Then sign'd her name against these naughty men. Next to the Mice, young David went with speed; Poor little souls, they could not write or read! But well inclin'd, to stop, these horrid scenes, Employ'd the Jack-Ass, to write down their names. Now David got the whole, engross'd on skins, Forming a pile, much higher than one's shins! And when roll'd up, upon his back 'twas ty'd, Who, then for London went, in stately pride! But here's the Rub;—when Parliament, serene, Consider'd well, the business of Nun's-Green; And by each house, most clearly understood, That 'twas a Plan, design'd for Public Good, They curs'd the names, and laugh'd at all the rigs, Contriv'd by Asses, Geese, Frogs, Mice, and Pigs.