Mrs. Merdle Describes the Sufferings of Dyspepsia and its Remedy.

But come, now, I hear by the sound of the ringing

That dinner is ready; and time none to spare

To finish our eating in time for the singing

At Niblo's; or at Burton's drop in for a stare.

To‘ kill time’ the object, whatever the source is,

And that is the reason we sit at the table

And call for our dinner in slow-coming courses,

To kill, while we eat, all the time we are able.

Though little, I told you, that's worthy your taste

You'll find on our table, pray do n't think us mean —

Your welcome is ample — that's better than waste —

Oh! here comes the soup in a silver tureen —

‘ Tis mock turtle too — so good for digestion:

That kills me by inches, the wretched complaint

Dyspepsia — to cure which, I take by suggestion

Port-wine in the soup, when I feel slightly faint.