I will not let thee once repine

At having come with me to dine:

'T will be my pride to hear thee say,
"I have enjoy'd my Chop, to-day."

Come, dine with me; yes, dine with me;
Dine, dine, dine, with me, etc.

BARLEY WATER.

AIR" On the Banks of Allan Water."

FOR a jug of Barley Water

Take a saucepan not too small;
Give it to your wife or daughter,
If within your call.

If her duty you have taught her,
Very willing each will be
To prepare some Barley Water
Cheerfully for thee.

For a jug of Barley Water,

Half a gallon, less or more,

From the filter that you bought her,

Ask your wife to pour.

When a saucepan you have brought her

Polish'd bright as bright can be,

In it empty all the water,

Either you or she.

For your jug of Barley Water

('Tis a drink by no means bad),

Some two ounces and a quarter
Of pearl barley add.

When 'tis boiling, let your daughter
Skim from blacks to keep it free;
Added to your Barley Water

Lemon rind should be.

For your jug of Barley Water

(I have made it very oft),

It must boil, so tell your daughter,
Till the barley's soft.

Juice of a small lemon's quarter

Add; then sweeten all like tea; Strain through sieve your Barley Water"T will delicious be.

BOILED CHICKEN.

AIR" Norah Creina."

LESBIA hath a fowl to cook;

But, being anxious not to spoil it, Searches anxiously our book,

For how to roast, and how to boil it. Sweet it is to dine upon

Quite alone, when small its size is;

And, when cleverly 'tis done,

Its delicacy quite surprises.

Oh! my tender pullet dear!

My boiled-not roasted-tender Chicken I can wish

No other dish,

With thee supplied, my tender Chicken!

Lesbia, take some water cold,

And having on the fire placed it,
And some butter, and be bold-
When 'tis hot enough--taste it.

Oh! the Chicken meant for me
Boil before the fire grows dimmer,
Twenty minutes let it be

In the saucepan left to simmer.

Oh, my tender Chicken dear! My boil'd, delicious, tender Chicken! Rub the breast

(To give a zest)

With lemon-juice, my tender Chicken.

Lesbia hath with sauce combined

Broccoli white, without a tarnish;

'Tis hard to tell if 'tis design'd

For vegetable or for garnish.

Pillow'd on a butter'd dish,

My Chicken temptingly reposes,
Making gourmands for it wish,

Should the savor reach their noses.
Oh, my tender pullet dear!

My boiled-not roasted-tender Chicken!
Day or night,

Thy meal is light,

For supper, e'en, my tender Chicken.

STEWED DUCK AND PEAS.

AIR-"My Heart and Lute.”

I GIVE thee all, I can no more,
Though poor the dinner be;

Stew'd Duck and Peas are all the store
That I can offer thee.

A Duck, whose tender breast reveals
Its early youth full well;

And better still, a Pea that peels
From fresh transparent shell.

Though Duck and Peas may fail, alas!
One's hunger to allay ;

At least for luncheon they may pass,
The appetite to stay.

If seasoned Duck an odor bring

From which one would abstain,

The Peas, like fragrant breath of Spring, Set all to rights again.

I give thee all my kitchen lore,
Though poor the offering be;

I'll tell thee how 'tis cook'd, before
You come to dine with me:

The Duck is truss'd from head to heels,
Then stew'd with butter well;

And streaky bacon, which reveals

A most delicious smell.

When Duck and Bacon in a mass
You in the stew-pan lay,

A spoon around the vessel pass,
And gently stir away:
A table-spoon of flour bring,
A quart of water bring,
Then in it twenty onions fling,
And gently stir again.

A bunch of parsley, and a leaf

Of ever-verdant bay,

Two cloves-I make my language brief—

Then add your Peas you may!

And let it simmer till it sings

In a delicious strain,

Then take your Duck, nor let the strings

For trussing it remain.

The parsley fail not to remove,
Also the leaf of bay ;

Dish up your Duck-the sauce improve

In the accustom'd way,

With pepper, salt, and other things,

I need not here explain:

And, if the dish contentment brings,
You'll dine with me again.

CURRY.

THREE pounds of veal my darling girl prepares,
And chops it nicely into little squares;
Five onions next prepares the little minx
(The biggest are the best her Samiwel thinks).
And Epping butter, nearly half a pound,

And stews them in a pan until they 're brown'd.

What's next my dexterous little girl will do?
She pops the meat into the savory stew,
With curry powder, table-spoonfulls three,
And milk a pint (the richest that may be);

And, when the dish has stewed for half-an-hour,
A lemon's ready juice she 'll o'er it pour:
Then, bless her! then she gives the luscious pot
A very gentle boil-and serves quite hot.

P. S. Beef, mutton, rabbit, if you wish;
Lobsters, or prawns, or any kind of fish
Are fit to make A CURRY. 'Tis, when done,
A dish for emperors to feed upon.

THE RAILWAY GILPIN.

JOHN GILPIN is a citizen;

For lineage of renown,

The famed JOHN GILPIN'S grandson, he
Abides in London town.

To our JOHN GILPIN said his dear,
Stewed up here as we've been
Since Whitsuntide, 'tis time that we
Should have a change of scene.

"To-morrew is a leisure day,
And we'll by rail repair
Unto the Nell at Dedmanton,
And take a breath of air.

"My sister takes our eldest child;
The youngest of our three
Will go in arms, and so the ride
Won't so expensive be."

JOHN soon replied, "I don't admire

That railway, I, for one;

But you know best, my dearest dear,
And so it must be done.

"I, as a linen-draper bold,
Will bear myself, and though
'Tis Friday by the calendar,

Will risk my limbs, and go."

PUNCH