Classic Poem

Old Gripus went to buy a Suit of Clothes,
(And to the cheapest Place each Body knows)
But thinking that the Merchant was too hard,
He fell confounded foul upon the Yard.
Is this your Measure, Sir! is this three Foot!
As I'm an Alderman, by G — — look to't.

H E said: and waggish Pickthank thus replies,
(For all your Tradesmen are most monstrous wise)
That it is Measure, Sir, the Cloth I'll lay,
And we'll go try it yonder, o'er the way:
But let me tell you this before you go,
That, were't a Measure for your Conscience, tho'
Before such lumping Pen'worths should go down,
You'd swear't as long, as all the Yards in Town.