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They tell me Nancy Low
Has married Mr. R.;
The jilt! but I can live,
So I have my cigar.

BACKING THE FAVORITE !

Он, a pistol, or a knife!

For I'm weary of my life;

My cup has nothing sweet left to flavor it;
My estate is out at nurse,

And my heart is like my purse

And all through backing of the Favorite!

At dear O'Neil's first start,

I sported all my heart;

Oh, Becher, he never marred a braver hit!

For he crossed her in her race,

And made her lose her place,

And there was an end of that Favorite!

Anon, to mend my chance,

For the goddess of the Dance*

I pined, and told my enslaver it;

But she wedded in a canter,

And made me a Levanter,

In foreign lands to sigh for the Favorite!

* The late favorite of the King's Theatre, who left the pas seul of life, for a perpetual Ball. Is not that her effigy now commonly borne about by the Italian image-vcnders-an ethereal form holding a wreath with both hands above her head—and her husband, in emblem, beneath her foot?

Then next Miss M. A. Tree

I adored, so sweetly she

Could warble like a nightingale and quaver it;

But she left that course of life

To be Mr. Bradshaw's wife,

And all the world lost on the Favorite !

But out of sorrow's surf,

Soon I leaped upon the turf,

Where Fortune loves to wanton it and waver it; But standing on the pet,

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Oh, my bonny, bonny Bet!"

Black and yellow pulled short up with the Favorite!

Thus flung by all the crack,

I resolved to cut the pack;

The second-raters seemed then a safer hit!

So I laid my little odds.

Against Memnon! Oh, ye gods!

Am I always to be floored by the Favorite!

THE PURSUIT OF LETTERS.

THE Germans for Learning enjoy great repute;
But the English make Letters still more a pursuit;
For a Cockney will go from the banks of the Thames
To Cologne for an O, and to Nassau for M's.

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One liking this, one hating that,
Each snapping each, like dog and cat,
With divers bents, and tastes perverse,
One's bliss, in fact, another's curse;
How seldom anything we see
Like our united family!

Miss Brown of chapels goes in search,
Her sister Susan likes the church;
One plays at cards, the other don't;
One will be gay, the other won't;
In prayer and preaching one persists,
The other sneers at Methodists;
On Sundays even they can't agree,
Like our united family.

There's Mr. Bell, a Whig at heart,
His lady takes the Tories' part,
While William, junior, nothing loth,
Spouts Radical against them both.
One likes the News, one takes the Age,
Another buys the unstamped page;
They all say I, and never we,
Like our united family.

Not so with us;-with equal zeal
We all support Sir Robert Peel;
Of Wellington our mouths are full,
We dote on Sundays on John Bull;
With Pa and Ma on self-same side,
Our house has never to divide ;
No opposition members be
In our united family.

Miss Pope her "Light Guitar" enjoys,
Her father "cannot bear the noise,"
Her mother's charmed with all her songs,
Her brother jangles with the tongs :
Thus discord out of music springs,
The most unnatural of things,
Unlike the genuine harmony
In our united family!

We all on vocal music dote,
To each belongs a tuneful throat,
And all prefer that Irish boon

Of melody" The Young May Moon;"
By choice we all select the harp,
Nor is the voice of one too sharp,
Another flat-all in one key
Is our united family.

Miss Powell likes to draw and paint,
But then-it would provoke a saint-
Her brother takes her sheep for pigs,
And says her trees are periwigs.
Pa praises all, black, blue, or brown;
And so does Ma-but upside down!
They cannot with the same eyes see,
Like our united family.

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