And though vicked Charley Thompson.
Boulted like a miscrant base,
Presently another Pleaseman
Took him to the self-same place.

And this precious pair of raskles
Tuesday last came up for doom;
By the beak they was committed,
Vich his name was Mr. Combe.

Has for poor Eliza Davis,

Simple gurl of tventy-four,
She, I ope, will never listen

In the streets to sailors moar.

But if she must ave a sweet-art
(Vich most every gurl expex),
Let her take a jolly Pleaseman,
Vich is name peraps is-X.

LINES ON A LATE HOSPICIOUS EWENT.*

BY A GENTLEMAN OF THE FOOT-GUARDS (BLUE).

I PACED upon my beat

W. MAKEPEACE THACKERAY.

With steady step and slow,

All huppandownd of Ranelagh-street;
Ran'lagh, St. Pimlico.

While marching huppandownd

Upon that fair May morn,

Beold the booming cannings sound,

A royal child is born!

The Ministers of State

Then presnly I sor,
They gallops to the Pallis gate,

In carridges and for.

* The birth of Prince Arthur.

With anxious looks intent,

Before the gate they stop,

There comes the good Lord President,
And there the Archbishopp.

Lord John he next elights;

And who comes here in haste? 'Tis the ero of one underd fights,

The caudle for to taste.

Then Mrs. Lily, the nuss,

Toward them steps with joy; Says the brave old Duke, “Come tell to us, Is it a gal or a boy?"

By memory backards borne,

Peraps his thoughts did stray

To that old place where he was born
Upon the first of May.

Peraps he did recal

The ancient towers of Trim;

And County Meath and Dangan Hall
They did rewisit him.

I phansy of him so

His good old thoughts employin;

Fourscore years and one ago

Beside the flowin' Boyne.

His father praps he sees,
Most musicle of Lords,

A playing maddrigles and glees
Upon the Arpsicords.

To see that carriage come
The people round it press:
"And is the galliant Duke at ome?"
"Your Royal Ighness, yes."

He stepps from out the Broosh
And in the gate is gone,
And X, although the people push,
Says wery kind "Move hon.

The Royal Prince unto

The galliant Duke did say, "Dear Duke, my little son and you Was born the self-same day.

"The lady of the land,

My wife and Sovring dear, It is by her horgust command I wait upon you here.

"That lady is as well As can expected be;

And to your Grace she bid me tell
This gracious message free.

"That offspring of our race,
Whom yesterday you see,

To show our honor for your Grace,
Prince Arthur he shall be.

"That name it rhymes to fame;
All Europe knows the sound;
And I could n't find a better name
If you'd give me twenty pound.

"King Arthur had his knights That girt his table round,

But you have won a hundred fights, Will match 'em, I'll be bound.

"You fought with Bonypart, And likewise Tippoo Saib;

I name you then, with all my heart, The Godsire of this babe."

That Prince his leave was took,
His hinterview was done.
So let us give the good old Duke
Good luck of his god-son,

And wish him years of joy

In this our time of Schism,
And hope he'll hear the royal boy
His little catechism.

And my pooty little Prince

That's come our arts to cheer,

Let me my loyal powers ewince
A welcomin of you ere.

And the Poit-Laureat's crownd,
I think, in some respex,
Egstremely shootable might be found

For honest Pleaseman X.

THE LAMENTABLE BALLAD OF THE FOUNDLING OF SHOREDITCH.

W. MAKEPEACE THACKERAY.

COME, all ye Christian people, and listen to my tail,

It is all about a Doctor was traveling by the rail,

By the Heastern Counties Railway (vich the shares don't desire), From Ixworth town in Suffolk, vich his name did not transpire.

A traveling from Bury this Doctor was employed

With a gentleman, a friend of his, vich his name was Captain

Loyd;

And on reaching Marks Tey Station, that is next beyond Colchester, a lady entered into them most elegantly dressed.

She entered into the carriage all with a tottering step,

And a pooty little Bayby upon her bussum slep;

The gentlemen received her with kindness and siwillaty,
Pitying this lady for her illness and debillaty.

She had a fust-class ticket, this lovely lady said,
Because it was so lonesome she took a secknd instead.
Better to travel by secknd class than sit alone in the fust,
And the pooty little Baby upon her breast she nust.

A seein of her cryin, and shiverin and pail,

To her spoke this surging, the Ero of my tail;
Saysee you look unwell, ma'am, I'll elp you if I can,

And you may tell your case to me, for I'm a meddicle man.

"Thank you, sir," the lady said, "I only look so pale, Because I ain't accustom'd to traveling on the rale;

I shall be better presnly, when I've ad some rest:"

And that pooty little Baby she squeeged it to her breast.

So in conwersation the journey they beguiled,

Capting Loyd and the medical man, and the lady and the child, Till the warious stations along the line was passed,

For even the Heastern Counties' trains must come in at last.

When at Shoreditch tumminus at lenth stopped the train,
This kind meddicle gentleman proposed his aid again.