[There isn't a man living who does not have at least a
      sneaking reverence for a horse-shoe.—Evening Post.]

  Thus the poor ass whose appetite has ne'er
  Known than the thistle any sweeter fare
  Thinks all the world eats thistles. Thus the clown,
  The wit and Mentor of the country town,
  Grins through the collar of a horse and thinks
  Others for pleasure do as he for drinks,
  Though secretly, because unwilling still
  In public to attest their lack of skill.
  Each dunce whose life and mind all follies mar
  Believes as he is all men living are—
  His vices theirs, their understandings his;
  Naught that he knows not, all he fancies, is.
  How odd that any mind such stuff should boast!
  How natural to write it in the Post!