A nervous old gentleman, tired of trade,
By which though, it seems, he a fortune had made,
Took a house between two sheds, at the skirts of town,
Which he meant at his leisure to buy and pull down.
This thought struck his mind, when he viewed the estate.
But alas! when he entered, he found out too late;
For in each dwelt a smith: a more hard-working two
Never doctored a patient, or put on a shoe.
At six in the morning, their anvils at work,
Awoke our new squire, who raged like a Turk:
"These fellows," he cried, "such a clattering keep,
That I never can get above four hours sleep."
From morning till night they kept thumping away,--
No sound but the anvil the whole of the day:
His afternoon nap, and his daughter's new song,
Were banished and spoiled by their hammer's ding-dong.
He offered each Vulcan to purchase his shop;
But no, they were stubborn, determined to not stop.
At length, (both his spirits and health to improve,)
He cried, "I'll give each 1,000 greenbacks to move."
"Agreed," said the pair, "that will make us amends."
"Then come home," said the squire, "and let us part friends:
You shall dine; and we'll drink on this joyful occasion,
That each may live long in his new habitation."
He gave the two blacksmiths a sumptuous regale;
He spared not provisions, his wine or his ale;
So much was he pleased with the thought that each guest
Would take from him the noise, and restore to him rest.
"And now," said he, "tell me,-- Where mean you to move?
I hope to some spot where your trade will improve!"--
"Why, sir," replied one, with a grin on his phiz,
"Tom Forge moves to MY shop, and I move to HIS!"
(slightly revised) Anno.1846
Provided by Mark Cortino