JOSEPII'S LAMENT. We were just informed that Grimaldi was no longer to illuminate the world of pantomime with his annual light. Grimaldi retired! Well!. "It's growing dark! Boys, you may go!" Grimaldi gone! We scarcely know where we are; we scarcely know how to write! He was so entirely rich! There was his first distorted escape out of his disguisehis cavern of a mouth-his thievish eye-his supple limband most undoubted laugh. What decay on earth can have mastered all these? Go to !-he is not retired! We will not believe it. Yet, alack! his name is not in the bills"Clown, Mr. J. S. Grimaldi." Oh villainous J. S.! It should be,"Clown, Mr. Grimaldi ;" or Pantomime should betake itself to its weeds, and pine in perfect widowhood. We will say, without a fear of contradiction, that there not only never was such a clown, but that there never will be such another! Grimaldi requires rest-that must be all; and that we can imagine to be possible. No doubt, instead of pulling on his motley inexpressibles, and preparing his large lucky bag of a pocket, he is now sitting by a cosey fire, with a spoonful of Madeira in his eye, and J. S. (good in his way, but no Joe) listening to the clownish reminiscences of his inimitable papa. Perhaps he speaketh thus-but one should see him speak! Adieu to Mother Goose !-adieu, adieu, To spangles, tufted heads, and dancing limbs; Adieu to Pantomime—to all--that threw O'er Christmas' shoulders a rich robe of whims! Never shall old Bologna-(old, alack !— Once he was young and diamonded all o’e1) Take his particular Joseph on his back And dance the matchless fling, so loved of yore. Ne'er shall I build the wondrous verdant man, Nor make a fire, nor eke compose a coach, Of saucepans, trumpets, cheese, and such sweet fare; Sorrow hath "ta'en my number :"-I encroach No more upon the chariot-but the chair. Gone is the stride, four steps, across the stage! How Ware would quiver his mad bow about His rosined tight-ropes, when I flapped a dance; How would I twitch the Pantaloon's good gout, And help his fall and all his fears enhance! How children shrieked to see me eat! How I Stole the broad laugh from aged sober folk! Be wise-(that's foolish)-tumblesome! be rich- Carry a ponderous pocket at thy breech, And roll thine eye, as thou wouldst roll a hoop. Hand Columbine about with nimble hand, Cuff Pantaloon, be sure-forget not this: As thou beat'st him, thou'rt poor, J. S., or funny! And wear a deal of paint upon thy phiz; It doth boys good, and draws in gallery money. Lastly, be jolly! be alive! be light! Twitch, flirt, and caper, tumble, fall, and throw ! Grow up right ugly in thy father's sight! And be an "absolute Joseph," like old Joe! THE PAUPER'S CHRISTMAS CAROL. FULL of drink and full of meat, I hardly know Christmas comes but once a year. "After labor's long turmoil, Sorry fare and frequent fast, ་ THE PAUPER'S CHRISTMAS CAROL. 343 But are raisins high or low, Flour and suet cheap or dear? I hardly know Christmas comes but once a year. "Fed upon the coarsest fare Three hundred days and sixty-four I hardly know Christmas comes but once a year. "Treated like a welcome guest, One of Nature's social chain, I hardly know, Christmas comes but once a year! "Come to-morrow how it will ; I only know Christmas comes but once a year. . "Frozen cares begin to melt, I hardly know Christmas comes but once a year. "Bright and blessed is the time, With a sigh or with a tear, I hardly know ON A CERTAIN EQUESTRIAN STATUE. WHOEVER has looked upon Wellington's breast, |