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GIVEN TO THE NEPAULESE AMBASSADOR BY THE PENIN
SULAR AND ORIENTAL COMPANY.
Now, like a pig in a mortar-bed wallowing, | This Gineral great then tuck his sate,
See the old bachelor kneading his dough ; With all the other ginerals,
And as be there, with princely air,
Recloinin on his cushion was, Never the bit is his bed made at all;
All round about his royal chair, So he creeps like a terrapin under the kivering ;
The squeezin and the pushin was. Bad luck to the pictur of Bachelor's Hall !
O Pat, such girls, such Jukes and Earls,
Such fashion and nobilitee !
Just think of Tim, and fancy him
Amidst the hoigh gentility!
Ministher and his lady there,
And I reckonized, with much surprise,
Our messmate, Bob O'Grady, there;
There was Baroness Brunow, that looked like Juno, To the Naypaulase Ambassador.
And Baroness Rehausen there, Begor ! this fête all balls does bate,
And Countess Roullier, that looked peculiar At which I worn a pump, and I
Well, in her robes of gauze in there. Must here relate the splendthor great
There was Lord Crowhurst (I knew him first Of th' Oriental Company.
When only Mr. Pips he was), These men of sinse dispoised expinse,
And Mick O'Toole, the great big fool, To fête these black Achilleses.
That after supper tipsy was. “We'll show the blacks," says they, “Almack's, There was Lord Fingall and his ladies all, And take the rooms at Willis's."
And Lords Killeen and Dufferin, With flags and shawls, for these Nepauls,
And Paddy Fife, with his fat wife, They hung the rooms of Willis up,
I wondther how he could stuff her in. And decked the walls and stairs and halls
There was Lord Belfast, that by me past, With roses and with lilies up.
And seemed to ask how should I go there? And Jullien's band it tuck its stand
And the Widow Macrae, and Lord A. Hay, So sweetly in the middle there,
And the Marchioness of Sligo there. And soft bassoons played heavenly chunes,
Yes, Jukes and Earls, and diamonds and pearls, And violins did fiddle there. And when the Coort was tired of spoort,
And pretty girls, was spoorting there ; I'd lave you, boys, to think there was
And some beside (the rogues !) I spied, A nate buffet before them set,
Behind the windies, coorting there. Where lashins of good dhrink there was !
O, there 's one I know, bedad, would show
As beautiful as any there ; At ten before the ball-room door,
And I'd like to hear the pipers blow, His moighty Excellency was ;
And shake a fut with Fanny there ! He smoiled and bowed to all the crowd,
So gorgeous and immense he was.
A VERITABLE MYTH, TOUCHING THE CONSTELLATION
OF O'RYAN, IGNORANTLY AND FALSELY SPELLED ORION. The noble Chair stud at the stair,
O'RYAN was a man of might
Whin Ireland was a nation,
But poachin' was his heart's delight
And constant occupation. O fair the girls, and rich the curls,
He had an ould militia gun, And bright the oys, you saw there, was ;
And sartin sure his aim was ; And fixed each oye, ye there could spoi,
He gave the keepers many a run, On Gineral Jung Bahawther was !
And would n't mind the game
WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY.
He weeps o'er the modern corruption,
Compared with the good old times, And don't know what is the matter
With the Upper Jura limes !
The hoary old Plesiosaurus
Does naught but quaff and roar;
Flew drunk to his own front door!
The Iguanodon of the Period
Grows worse with every stratum ;
Whenever he can get at 'em !
St. Pathrick wanst was passin' by
O'Ryan's little houldin',
He thought he'd enther bould in. “O'Ryan,” says the saint, “avick!
To praich at Thurles I 'm goin'; So let me have a rasher quick,
And a dhrop of Innishowen.” “No rasher will I cook for you
While betther is to spare, sir,
And there's a rattlin' hare, sir."
And says he, “Good luck attind you,
It's up to heaven I 'll sind you." O'Ryan gave his pipe a whiff,
“Them tidin's is thransportin', But
may I ax your saintship if There 's any kind of sportin'?” St. Pathrick said, “A Lion's there,
Two Bears, a Bull, and Cancer" * Bedad,” says Mick, “ the huntin 's rare ;
St. Pathrick, I'm your man, sir." So, to conclude my song aright,
For fear I'd tire your patience,
Amid the constellations.
Till Mars grows jealous raally,
CHARLES G. HALPINE.
SONG OF THE ICHTHYOSAURUS.
TO THE PLIOCENE SKULL.
4 GEOLOGICAL ADDRESS.
(This curious specimen of German scientific humor refers to the close of the Jurassic (or Liassic) period and the beginning of the Cretaceous, and describes the sad forebodings of a venerable Sau ("A human skull has been found in California, in the pliocene for rian, who sees in the degeneracy of the times a sign of the coming mation. This skull is the remnant, not only of the earliest pioneer cataclysm.
of this State, but the oldest known human being. . . The skull The translator says. “ Among the many extraordinary liberties was found in a shaft one hundred and fifty feet deep, two miles which we have felt obliged to take with the letter of the original, in from Angel's, in Calaveras County, by a miner named James Matorder to preserve as far as possible its spirit and its flowing move son, who gave it to Mr. Scribner, a merchant, and he gave it to Dr. ment, the most violent is the substitution in the last stanza but one,
Jones, who sent it to the State Geological Survey. .... The pubof an entirely new (and poor) joke for the very neat, but untrans lished volume of the State Survey on the Geology of California latable jeu of the German. The last two lines of the stanza are : states that man existed contemporaneously with the mastodon, but Sie kamen zu tief in die Kreide ;
this fossil proves that he was here before the mastodon was known Da war es natürlich vorbei.'
to exist." - Daily Paper.] The literal meaning is, ' They got too deep in the chalk, and it was, of course, all up with them.' The allusion is to the score
"SPEAK, Oman, less recent! Fragmentary fossil ! chalked up by a landlord against some bibulous but impecunious Primal pioneer of pliocene formation, customer; and the notion that the Saurians ran up so large an account for drinks that the chalk required to mark their indebtedness Hid in lowest drifts below the earliest stratum smothered the whole race, and brought on the Cretaceous or chalk
Of Volcanic tufa! period, is so absurdly funny that it is a pity to sacrifice it.")
THERE's a rustling in the rushes, Older than the beasts, the oldest Palæotherium ;
Older than the trees, the oldest Cryptogamia ;
Older than the hills, those infant eruptions Swims hither mournfully!
Of earth's epidermis !
When beside thee walked the solemn Plesiosaurus, And around thee crept the festive Ichthyosaurus, While from time to time above thee flew and circled
Tell us of thy food, — those half-marine refections, Crinoids on the shell, and Brachipods au naturel,Cuttle-fish to which the pieuvre of Victor Hugo
Seems a periwinkle.
Speak, thou awful vestige of the earth's creation,
Speak ! thou oldest primate !”
I begged for my master,
And got himn store of pelf; But, goodness now be praised ! I'm begging for myself.
And a-begging we will g In a hollow tree
I live, and pay no rent; Providence provides for me, And I am well content.
And a-begging we will go, etc. Of all the occupations
A beggar's is the best,
And a-begging we will go, etc. I fear no plots against me,
I live in open cell ;
And a-begging we will go,
Will go, will go,
Even as I gazed, a thrill of the maxilla
Ground the teeth together.
And from that imperfect dental exhibition, Stained with expressed juices of the weed Nicotian, Came those hollow accents, blent with softer
Of expectoration :
“Which my name is Bowers, and my crust was
busted Falling down a shaft, in Calaveras County, But I'd take it kindly if you'd send the pieces
Home to old Missouri !”
GOOD ALE. I CANNOT eat but little meat,
My stomach is not good ;
FRANCIS BRET HARTE.
But, sure, I think that I can drink
The tail of the steed pointed south on the dale, With any that wears a hood.
'T was the friar's road home, straight and Though I go bare, take ye no care ;
level ; I am nothing a-cold,
But, when spurred, a horse follows his nose, not I stuff my skin so full within
his tail, Of jolly good ale and old.
So he scampered due north, like a devil : Back and side go bare, go bare ;
"This new mode of docking,” the friar then said, Both foot and hand go cold;
“I perceive does n't make a horse trot ill ; But, belly, God send thee good ale enough, And't is cheap, --for he never can eat off his head Whether it be new or old !
While I am engaged at the bottle, I love no roast but a nut-brown toast,
Which goes gluggity, gluggity — glug And a crab laid in the fire ;
- glug - glug.” A little bread shall do me stead, Much bread I not desire.
The steed made a stop, - in a pond he had got, No frost nor snow, nor wind, I trow,
He was rather for drinking than grazing ; Can hurt me if I wold,
Quoth the friar, “'Tis strange headless horses I am so wrapt, and thorowly lapt
should trot, Of jolly good ale and old.
But to drink with their tails is amazing!" Back and side go bare, go bare, etc.
Turning round to see whence this phenomenon
rose, And Tyb, my wife, that as her life
In the pond fell this son of a pottle ;
Quoth he, “ The head's found, for I'm under his Full oft drinks she, till you may see
nose, The tears run down her cheek;
I wish I were over a bottle, Then doth she trowl to me the bowl,
Which goes gluggity, gluggity — glug Even as a malt-worm should ;
- glug - glug." And saith, Sweetheart, I took my part
Of this jolly good ale and old.”
ODE FOR A SOCIAL MEETING.
Good ale doth bring men to ;
COME! fill a fresh bumper, -- for why should we
go God save the lives of them and their wives,
logwood Whether they be young or old !
While the Heeter still reddens our cups as they Back and side go bare, go bare ;
decoction Both foot and hand go cold ;
Pour out the rieh juices still bright with the sun, But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
dye-stuff Whether it be new or old !
Till o'er the brimmed crystal the rubies shall run. JOHN STILL.
The purple globest clusters their life-dews have GLUGGITY GLUG.
sugar of lead THE MYRTLE AND THE VINE."
How sweet is the breath of the fragrantee theyskert!
rank polsons A JOLLY fat friar loved liquor good store, For summer's last poses lie hid in the wines And he had drunk stoutly at supper ;
stable-boys smoking long-nines He mounted his horse in the night at the door,
That were garnered by maidens who laughed And sat with his face to the crupper :
through the vines. “Some rogue," quoth the friar, “quite dead to
Then a smile, and aglaon, and a toast, and a cheer, Some thief, whom a halter will throttle,
strychnine and whiskey, and ratsbane and beer Some scoundrel has cut off the head of my horse, For all the good wine, and we're some of it here ! While I was engaged at the bottle,
In cellar, in pantry, in attic, in hall,
Down, down with the tyrant that masters us all!
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. - glug - glug.'
WITH SLIGHT ALTERATIONS BY A TEETOTALER.
A SIMILE FOR REVIEWERS.
YE overseers and reviewers
Consigns a wretch To Master Ketch, Having no grudge ; No reason clear can be assigned, Only, like you, he has not dined. So far from wishing your allowance shorter, I wish, for all your sakes, You may never want beefsteaks And porter, And for your merits A dram of British spirits. And so I leave you with a fable Designed, without a sneer, To exhilarate your table And give a relish to your beer. I beg my compliments to all your ladies The revieweressesHark !!! And, if you please take warning, My fable is concerning A cuckoo and a lark. If I had said a nightingale, You would have cried You could not fail, That it was pride, And naught beside, That made me think of such a tale. Upon a tree as they were sitting They fell into a warm dispute, Warmer than was fitting, Which of them was the better fluto. After much prating And debating, Not worth relating, Things came to such a pass, They both agree To take an ass For referee : The ass was studying botany and grass Under the tree. What do you think was the decree? “Why,” said the ass, “the question is not hard:" And so he made an excellent award, As you shall see. “The lark,” says he, “Has got a wild fantastic pipe, But no more music than a snipe ; It gives one pain And turns one's brain, One can't keep time to such a strain ; Whereas the cuckoo's note Is measured and composed with thought; His method is distinct and clear, And dwells Like bells Upon the ear, Which is the sweetest music one can hear. I can distinguish, I'll lay a wager,