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AY, who will o'er the Downs with me?

(Of course I don't refer
To those where Susan- eamo to see
Her black-eyed William, just as ho

Was leaving home and her;
And where ho waved his lily hand,
And said "A-do," and pointed to the Strand.

Nor do I mean tho "Downs" that como

With " Denies" at tho close
Of songs, instead of "Rum-ti-tum,"
Or "Tiddy-ol!" or "Tiddy-um,"

Or words resembling those;
The Downs that I intend to sing
You'll find a much more downy sort of thing!

Nor would I waste ono drop of ink

Upon the Downs that lie
Among the dead men, and would shrink
From plunging very deep in drink

To prove their loyalty;
Nor do I mean those hatting Downs
Who sell a man a tile for thrco half-crowns.

I didn't wish to spin you such >

A rigmarole as this;
But somehow I forgot to touch
Tho Downs; and, as I've put so much

In one parenthesis), •

The only question seems to be,

"Will anybody o'er tho Downs with me?"

DERBY NOTES.

By Nicholas Himself.

Bblorayia.

Descriptive writing being less my province than knowing a really good horse when I Bee him, and have been thrown off by a-many in my time, though, thanks bo, still hale and hearty for his age, Nicholas will not attemptto paint our national sports and customs which, even had he the pen of a Kelly's Post Office Directory, would be too numerous for insertion. The humours of the road are as laughable as anything in the writings of that genial wit Mr. Tufper, which I hope to meet him on the course, and now by the kind permission of the chair attempt an imitation of his style.

Remarkable indeed is Han, nor is ho ever more so than when, upon

the course at Epsom, Armed with a metallic pencil, he is ready to lay against the favourite; For the popular taste is fickle, and the odds in the, betting are apt to

fluctuate,

Oscillating like the pendulum of a clock, but with less regularity of purpose!

Wherefore, oh! my son, be wise, gentle, and prudent in thy dealings, Never putting all thy money on a single horse, but standing to win upon several;

For no one but a fool can expect to be perpetually fortunate,
Which is probably the reason of my own literary success!

The author has no warmer admirer than Nicholas, and his composition saves tho trouble of rhyming, besides being conducive to what he would call corpulence of thought.

After tho numerous Derbys which your sporting editor have attended, usually in a humble way, though never menial, whatever envious prophets may insinuate, and when I was younger, before misfortunes, could havo his glass of sherry wine where others were only too glad to get their half-pint of four-ale, it is with some amount of pardonable pride that I shall go down in my "own drag," with some of the noblest in the land a-bowing to me, as affable as oil, when they see the old man, which well they know his word was ever as good as his bond, and frequently better, whenever times was bad. It's money as makes the mare to go—mares reminding me of Friday and the Oaks, which will bring me back to original subject, so excuse digression.

Well, my noble sportsmen, trust your own old tipster when ho tells you where to put the pot on, and will now cast his eye down the whole boiling of the horses on the card.

Breadalbane is, to Nicholas's thinking, as fine an animal as ever cast

a fetlock or threw a pastern; added to which, he has Blood and Breed, which, in horses as in men, is almost invaluable, as well I know myself, my own family, though not absolutely rich, having always been respectable, and ono was under Government in the CustomsHouse; but that was before my time, I admit. What with Breadalbane, and what with Broomielaw, though the latter vicious as he's been known of few, Mu. Chaplin-, as has only recent gone upon the Turf, and may now be called Chaplin and Huntsman's Home,'the firm always knowing a good deal about horses, though not exactly racers—Mr. C. has a chance, a good chanco, and nothing but a chance.

Should Gladiateur keep his Two Thousand form, the stakes may go to our lively neighbours, les Francois; and Nicholas hopes he have rose above the meanness of being jealous when a foreign gentilhomme —or, as he might say, noble homme, though his French is not what it wa s—winsa great prize upon the turf of vieux Angleterre.

The success of "Tho Duke," which was to have carried tho colours of tho Marquis Of Hastings, would have been welcome to every lover of our national aristocracy, but scratching was decreed his doom, and such was fate. Far other be the lot of Lord StamFord's Archimedes, as recalls the term "Eureka!" to the student of classic lore.

Spaco preventing further criticism on the characteristic points of the horses, will abstain from absolute prophecy, but will give the novice a little hint:—If you back all the horses that run you are sure to win something or other. The plan, of course, requires capital, and you mightn't get paid after all; but

There Is No Other Golden Rule For Success Upon The Turf.

Nicholas.'

A Hint for Youth.

We observe "the guinea storm-coat" advertised. Young gentlemen who go to tho Dorby on tho sly and risk detection by "the governor" would do well to purchaso these invaluable articles. They wiU be equally efficient, we suppose, in keeping off the dust on the road and the dust that may be kicked up at home on the return.

Theatrical Mem.

It may be interesting to those connected with the drama to learn that this month, May (well known to amateur performers. N.B. Evening parties attended) will dress the Downs in a new suit of green for the Derby.

The Real " Derby Hamper."—When your wife insists on going with you.

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The West London Industrial Exhibition.

It is just possible that there are gome who haven't yet seen the interior of this very curious and very excellent exhibition, although the admirable advertisement, kindly given by the Bank of England authorities to the curiosities therein exhibited, crams the building with visitors, who nro all anxious to see the very curious specimens of imitativo penmanship which the obstinate stupidity of the Bank directors has caused to be mutilated. An ingonious man—a clerk, wo believe—has copied with astounding accuracy the externals of various magazines and periodicals, together with bank cheques and a Bank of England note. This is done, not upon cheque paper, or on bank paper, but on stiff cardboard, and yet Mb. Freshfield, the Bank Solicitor, has insisted on the destruction of the bank note, and consequently of the ruination of the whole work, lest any ono be deceived by the clerkly imitation. Everybody knows that there is no difficulty whatever in engraving a fac-simile of the letter-press of a bank-note; the real difficulty lies in the difficulty of imitating the peculiar paper on which it is printed. When the imitation is printed or drawn on stiff cardboard, the Bank ought to consider itself tolerably safe against imposition. If it isn't, it must be shaky indeed!

Literary Intelligence.

Shortly Will Be Published:— By the author of "Wild Wales," Salisbury Plain and Twopence Coloured.

Swilling Ramsgate, by the author of " The Gobbling Margate," and other poems.

How Cold it Has Been; or, The Foundation School.
The Genteel Subsistence, uniform with The Gentle Life.

The Knot-orious Brothers.—The Brothers Davenport mania has been found to be a form of tye-fuss.

TO A TIMID LEECH.

Bt Our Invalid Contributor.

Nay, start not from the banquet where the red wine foams for t
Though somewhat thick to perforate this epidermis bo;
'Tis madness, when the bowl invites, to linger at the brink,
So haste thee, haste thee, timid one. Drink, pretty creature, drink!

I tell thee, if these azure veins could boast the regal wine
Of Tudore or Plantagonets, the draught should still bo thine!
Though round the goblet's beaded brim plebeian bubbles wink,
'Twill cheer and not inebriate. Drink, pretty creature, drink'.

Perchance, reluctant being, I have placed thee wrong side up,
And the lips that I am chiding have been farthest from the cup.
I have waited long and vainly, and I cannot, cannot think
Thou would'st spurn the oft-repeated call: Drink, pretty creature,
drink!

Whilo I watched thy patient struggles, and imagined thon wort coy,
'Twas thy tail, and not thy features, that rofusod the proffered joy.
I will but turn theo tenderly—nay, never, never shrink.
Now, onco again the banquet calls: Drink, pretty creature, drink!

Horticultural Mem.

In about a week's time we may look for the Cochtcia Champimcnsi*, or Derby Day-sy, which will be met with on the turf in large quantities. A good deal of it may bo cut next Wednesday afternoon.

A CON BY AN AXGLO-GALLICAN. Why are Tom Thumb and family like a Terpsichorean evolution? —Because they are a Pouco-set.

Printed bj- JL'DD & GLASS, 80, Fleet Street, and Phoenix Works, 8t. Andrrw'8 Hill, Doctor*' Common?, and Publiebed (for the Proprietors) by THOMAS BAKKK,

at 80 Fleet Street.—Slay 27, 1869.

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AY, who will o'er the Downs with me ?

(Of course I don't refer
To those where Susan came to see
Her hlack-eyed William, just as he

Was leaving home and her;
And where he waved his lily hand,
And said " A-do," and pointed to the Strand.

Nor do I mean the "Downs" that como

With " Domes" at the close
Of songs, instead of "Eum-ti-tum,"
Or "Tiddy-ol!" or "Tiddy-um,"

Or words resembling those;
The Downs that I intend to sing
You'll find a much more downy sort of thing!

Nor would I waste one drop of ink

Upon the Downs that lie
Among the dead men, and would shrink
From plunging very deep in drink

To prove their loyalty;
Nor do I mean those hatting Downs
Who sell a man a tile for thrco half-crowns.

I didn't wish to spin you such /

A rigmarolo as this;
But somehow I forgot to touch
The Downs; and, as I've put so much

In one parenthesis),

The only question seems to be,

"Will anybody o'er tho Downs with me?"

DERBY NOTES.

By Nicholas Himself.

Belgravia.

Descriptive writing being less my province than knowing a really good horse when I see him, and have been thrown oft by a-many in my time, though, thanks bo, still halo and hearty for his age, Nicholas will not attempt to paint our national sports and customs which, even had he the pen of a Kelly's Post Office Directory, would be too numerous for insertion. The humours of the road are as laughable as anything in the writings of that genial wit Ms. Tupper, which I hope to meet him on the course, and now by the kind permission of the chair attempt an imitation of his style.

Remarkable indeed is Man, nor is ho ever more so than when, upon

the course at Epsom, Armed with a metallic pencil, he is ready to lay against tho favourite; For the popular taste is fickle, and the odds in the, betting are apt to

fluctuate,

Oscillating like the pendulum of a clock, but with less regularity of purpose!

Wherefore, oh! my son, be wise, gentle, and prudent in thy dealings, Never putting all thy money on a single home, but standing to win upon several;

For no one but a fool can expect to be perpetually fortunate,
Which is probably the reason of my own literary success!

The author has no warmer admirer than Nicholas, and his composition saves the trouble of rhyming, besides being conducive to what he would call corpulence of thought.

After tho numerous Derbys which your sporting editor have attended, usually in a humble way, though never menial, whatever envious prophets may insinuate, and when I was younger, before misfortunes, could have his glass of sherry wine where others were only too glad to get their half-pint of four-ale, it is with some amount of pardonable pride that I shall go down in my " own drag," with some of the noblest in the land a-bowing to me, as affable as oil, when they see the old man, which well they know his word was ever as good as his bond, and frequently better, whenever times was bad. It's money as makes the mare to go—mares reminding me of Friday and the Oaks, which will bring mo back to original subject, so excuse digression.

Well, my noble sportsmen, trust your own old tipster when he tells you where to put the pot on, and will now cast his eye down the whole boiling of the horses on the card.

Breadalbane is, to Nicholas's thinking, as fine an animal as ever cast

a fetlock or threw a pastern ; added to which, he has Blood and Breed, which, in horses as in men, is almost invaluable, as well I know myself, my own family, though not absolutely rich, having always been respectable, and one was under Government in the Customs House; but that was before my time, I admit. What with Breadalbane, and what with Broomielaw, though the latter vicious as he's been known of few, Mr. Chaplin, as has only recent gone upon the Turf, and may now be called Chaplin and Huntsman's fiorne, The firm always knowing a good deal about horses, though not exactly racers—Mr. C. has a chance, a good chance, and nothing but a chance.

Should Gladiateur keep his Two Thousand form, the stakes may go to our lively neighbours, Its Francaii; and Nicholas hopes he have rose above the meanness of being jealous when a foreign gentilltommc —or, as he might say, noble homme, though his French is not what it wa s—winsa great prize upon the turf of rieux Anglcterre.

The success of "The Duke," which was to have carried the colours of the Marquis Of Hastings, would have been welcome to every lover of our national aristocracy, but scratching was decreed his doom, and such was fate. Far other be the lot of Lord StamFord's Archimedes, as recalls the term "Eureka!" to the student of classic lore.

Space preventing further criticism on the characteristic points of the horses, will abstain from absolute prophecy, but will give the novice a little hint:—If you back all the horses that run you are sure to win something or other. The plan, of course, requires capita], and you mightn't get paid after all; but

There Is No other Golden Rule For Success Upon The Turf.

Nicholas.'

A Hint for Youth.

We observe "the guinea storm-coat" advertised. Young gentlemen who go to tho Derby on tho sly and risk detection by "the governor" would do well to purchase these invaluable articles. They will be equally efficient, we suppose, in keeping off the dust on the road and the dust that may be kicked up at home on the return.

Theatrical Mem.

It may be interesting to those connected with the drama to learn that this month, May (well known to amateur performers. N.B. Evening parties attended) will dress the Downs in a new suit of green for the Derby.

The Real " Derby Hamper."—When your wife insists on going with you.

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TOWN TALK.

By Thb Saunteber In Society,

HERE is not t h o loast earthly use, I suppose, in talking about anything except the Derby this week. To be sure, I know very little about i t beyond the fact that the continuance of the French treaty' is entirely dependent

upon Gladiateur"s success at Epsom; that Archimedes has nothing of the screw of that ilk about him; that 13roomielaw—or more properly, Broughamy-law—is so called as a delicate allusion to a veteran ex-chancellor; that The Duke was*so named, because he belongs to a Marquis —an excellent reason; and, finally, that Mr. Charles Dickens is going to bring an action for piracy against tho proprietor of "Christmas Carol," for bringing it out in a new form without permission.

I suppose I ought to give a prophecy, and I have no doubt it will bo quite as valuable as tho general run of tips, for they usually upsetjyour calculations. On tho whole, then, I am inclined to think that the winner's namo will begin with the second or third, or some other letter of the alphabet, and that he will be recognisable by going past the post first.

'The Union Chargeability Bill has met with very strong opposition. What do its enemies mean? One would fancy that they were of opinion that the labouring man, like the race-horse, requires a preliminary canter before ho settles down to his work, and that a good trudge of five or six miles, cold or hot, wet or dry, to his labour, is necessary for his health.

There was no very extra display of illuminations on the Queen's birthday, although some of the shows were fine. It struck me to be rather odd that none of the public offices lit up. Whitehall was dark, and tho War Office, in Pall-mall, looked quite singular among the blazing jets of the club-houses. I don't think that any of the latter looked better than "The Rag." The Royal Academy might have afforded a star, one would think—but it didn't.

How completely, and in how short a time, the Southern Confederacy has vanished! It is scratched for the human race; but then, you see, the Yankees early promised to make all the running.

The weather, in spito of somo smartish thunder showers, continues warm, and it is not impossible that tho Derby may end in a dead heat. We may look now for febris cqutslris. Its early symptoms are a horse,laugh and an eruption of penny dolls. The remedy usually adopted is Epsom Salt, taken on its nativo heath, with a running accompaniment of champagne and cold chicken. A slight headache next day and a feeling of sinking in the pockets must bo expected to follow, but generally speaking tho patient is quito restored on the third day. No fatal case has ever been known to occur.

It may be interesting to some of my readers to know that the Saunterer will be on the Downs on the day. A light coat, white hat, green veil, light trousers, patent leather boots, and a cigar will be the unmistakeable and original costume by which he may be known. He is prepared to accept invitations to lunch (champagne indispensable) up to tho number of a hundred, but must decline any further engagements. He has already arranged to go down on twenty-three different drags, four mail-phaetons, and one greengrocer's cart, and will arrive simultaneously by all those conveyances at stated intervals. In reply to numerous lady correspondents, ho begs to add that he has accepted already upwards of twenty thousand bets in gloves and scent, and is obliged to close his arrangements, owing to his betting-book having already reached six volumes largo octavo. In order to prevent disappointments he has prevailed on tho Chelsea Wateiworks to lay down pipes for the conveyance of the Eau de Cologne to the Downs direct. The gloves will bo forwarded from Paris by telegraph to the Grand Stand.

Sensation Dramas for the Back Drawing-Room.

EPSOM UPS AND DOWNS;

OK,

The Magnificent Woman and the Mysterious Minstrel.

As Equestrian Deama Op Real Life, In Three Acts.
Act I.

Scene.Room at the Junior Disunited Senior Lookbetter Club, Tallstreet, St. James's Hall. The house looks generous, the very windows having an open appearance. A stmt buthr is trying Banting at the front door, and a verdict of fatal result of overfeeding is being brought in (on wheels) by an intelligent jury, as the curtain rises, like one man. Lord Bon Lon, who has spent most of the recent years of his existence on the shady side of Pall Mall, and forty-fine, got up about three and about thirty, is lounging at the first-floor window. Hat ing become in the course of the first lieur (during which the more sensible portion of the audience go out and demand the return of their money, especially those who came in with orders) somewhat weary of lounging, his lordship varies the monotony by lolling. Eventually subsiding into a gentle slumber, dreams he is a boy again, and leaves a good deal of his hair-dye on the new morocco chair-back.

Swells enter right; others wrong. Chorus of Swells.
Haw, haw, haw,

Just so, precisely, 'zactly;
Haw, haw, haw,

What's become of Whackleigh?

Enter Major-general Corporal Bombardier Private Brevet Drummer Whackleigh, a martinet. He coughs, hems, grunts, takes snuff, scowls, growls, curses his tailor, mutters the word "puppies," kicks a waiter, and exit foaming.

Viscount Verdigris.—What can have put tho general in such a good temper?

Lord Lor (rising suddenly).—I see it all. I was black bald before I took to a brown wig. But that's neither here nor there. Some of the Members. —Ho mutters. The others.—IN docs. Lord L.—I don't look above twenty-five. Viscount V.—Inches f Lord L.—No, sir—years. All the members previously silent.—Oh! Lord L.—I call you all out.

All the members except the viscount.—Wo como. (They sleep.)

Lord L.—But I will be revenged on some one. To-morrow is

Viscount V.—It is.

Lord L.—Rash youth, I have spared you; I did not include you in the general challenge. You alone will live to toll the tale. To-morrow, before the race is run, their faces will be. Ha ! ha! Good! Twig? Their manly but defunct forms will dot Wimblcdon-common. Give me Wimbledon for a duel.

Viscount V. (with the generosity of youth).—Take it.

Lord, L. (dropping a tear and a quarter).—This generosity unmans me. Lend me eighteenpenco.

Viscount V.—'Tis there. (Slow music during a monetary transaction. Music played faster when

the business assumes the tone of a pecuniary arrangement. Lord Lob

rushes off with the money, flushed, followed by the generalwho has been

in ambush behind the hats, sticks, and playbills in the hallheated.

Both pant off hurriedly, and take cabs simultaneously.)

Both (together, but in different cabs).—Bryanstone-square!

Act II.

Brauing-room at Mrs. Caroline Ravenswixg's. A decided coolness pervades the apartment, none of the chairs and tables being upon terms. With the exception of two robust macaws, who shriek duets, q communicative canary, a musical snuff-box at full swing, and Master Ravbnswlng playing with the fire-irons, all is silent.

Enter Mrs. Ravenswing. She is of an exquisitely chiselled aquiline
figure; her nose is tall, and delicately pencilled; her expression is marked
in plain figures. Her costume is of the period, and her brow is guilelvss,
and innocent even of a freckle. She sweeps the auditorium with her eye
(this effect is registered), and beholding her only child dropping the tongs
for the fifteenth time, catches him to Iter maternal bosom, and administers
a mild but efficient spank. Master Ravenswlno fancies himself a bit
of India-rubber, and rubs himself out centre door, leaving his mother
in possession of the stage. She smiles and takes it.
Mrs. R.—Ah, me!

Enter Lord Lob and General Whackleigh, perspiring freely. They
mop their facts with silk pocket-handkerchiefs, and glower.
Mrs. R. (with the delicacy of a true lady).—Now, you two!
Lord L.—Be mine!

Miis. R.—Ha! ha!

Major-gen. W.-—No—mine!

Mns. R.—He! he!

Lord L.—She consents! Rapture!

Major-gen. W.—She accepts mo! Bliss!

Mrs. R.—Nothing of tho kind. I will decide to-morrow.

Lord L. (crushed).—Agony!

Major-gen. W. (squashed).—Despair! (They weep aside.)

Mrs. R. (aside).—What a gift is woman's wit.

Lord L.—To-morrow P Where?

Mrs. R.—At Epsom.

Major-gbn. W.—After tne Derby?

Mrs. R.—Yes.

Lord L.—-Till then, down tempestuous waistcoat! Major-gen. W.—Till then, rest perturbed frill! [Slow music composed by Ann Dante. The act drop descends upon the heads of the two ttdmirtrs with a loud bump. Confident of success, titty are oblivious of the fact, and dance off gaily with Measured stride^

Act III. Scenb.The Course. (The arrangements of this elaborate scene areunder the personal supervision of Mr. Oscar Harris, Augustus Byrne, Mr. Robert West, W. Roxby, and as many other stage managers as can be obtained to get in others' tray. All the carpenters employed for the great "ship" scene in the. Africaine are engaged, and many of them married. The most celebrated figure painters of the day arc retained to draw the pidtlie. The police are seen taking up a great many of the company, and nearly all the rosm. The first race is over, and the husband of Lady Elizabeth Mountflashington is looking very disconsolate at having lost his Bet. A theatrical manager who is notorious for having many bad actors in his company, is offering the M at " three sticks a penny," and the sides of the course are crowded with rank, fashion, tag, ray, bobtail, carts, carriages, eabs, shandy-gaffs, and shandry Daniels come to judgment and grief) Chorus of Convivial Crowd.

Hooray, hooray,

For the Derby day!

Hooray, hooray, hooray!

For the Derby day,

Hooray, hooray! And {after a pause)—Hooray, hooray, hooray! (This inspiriting chorus, with encore versesthe same over againis published by Crammer and Coe, limited, and may be had at the scales of the weighter.) 1st Mob.—Slap bang! 2nd Mob (ironically).—Here we are agftin! 3rd Mob (obtusely).We It again? What, the Queen? 4th Mob.—You're a witty one, you arc.

3rd Mob (with powers of retort, which promise much).—You ain't.' (They grapple. The annual 11 dog" takes his gallop amidst the cheers and

howls of everybody, and the subdued shrieks of the rest.)

3rd Mob (nngrappling).—It strikes me you are my long lost father.

4th Mob.—Tho same observation I was just on the point of making to yon .'

3rd Mob.—That being tho case, two to one bar one. 4tk Mob.—You're another! (^Acy embrace.)

Everybody.—Hats off! Some Millions.—They're off! Some Thousands.—What, the hats? A Select Few.-—No, tho horses. (Here takes place the race. It will be somewhat difficult to accomplish effectively in a back drawing-room, but if everything came easy, acting would cease to be an art. The race is won by the first horse (as usual). Howls, growls, yells of delight, and shrieks of joy proclaim the various emotions of the winners and the losers.)

(Dance of hedgers and ditchers.)

(The scene changes pamramically to the "Hill," where Mrs. RavensWing is seated in an open barouclie and six. She is toasting a friend in the sun, and the champagne glass is on her lip, and a tear in Iter eye. She has Iter fortune told, commands negro ballads, presents cold fowl to vagrancy in general, and an inebriated policeman in particular, and awaits the coming of her admirers. They come.) Major-gen. W.—Decide!

Lord L.—Settle! (A negro minstrel listens anxiously.)

Mrs. R. (taking a Bath bun in the confusion of the moment from the tray of a peripatetic confectioner).—I cannot! I cannot! (The rivals order the negro minstrel to move on. He proudly curls his upper

lip, and passes his ebony fingers over the strings of his banjo. Mrs. It.

turns pale as he docs so.)

Mrs. R.—Give mo till after the Oaks.

The Rivals (simultaneously).—The HoakB! (See they have made an unintentional joke, and consider themselves wags

from that moment.)

Negro minstrel sings—" Dandy Joe from Caroline!" Ya, ya, ya!

Cuowd (expostulating).Jim, if you please.

Mus. R. (whose name is Caroline).—Can it be fate?

(Falls back upon the bun.)

Negro Minstrel (severely).—I forbid the buns—I mean the banns.

Mrs. R.—That voice !, (Seizing the musical instrument of the minstrel.) You forbid the ban-JoE! (Shrieks.) (The negro minstrel throws off his wig, his big shir' collar, seizes Mrs. It's

lace pocket-handkerchief, and rubs the black off his face. Crowd shudder.)

Negro (now a pale brown).—Am I not a man and a

Mrs. R. (shrieks).—Husband!

(Swoons.)

Negro.Caroline! 'Tis I! (Mops her brow with the lace handkerchief dipped in champagne. The pictorial effect produced is dazzling.) Lord L. (aside to his rival).—Humph! Major-gen. W.—My sentiments exactly. Lord L.—I will never marry.

Major-gejt. W.—I will turn hermit. (Comes to terms with Mr. E. T. Smith, who happens to be on the spot, and who is in want of novelty.)

The Mysterious Minstrel (supporting his wife, which he refused to do onceItence the separation).—And if our keyind friends in front will only be good enough to take their hats off, we shall be able to Bee the rest of the racing, and there will then be nothing wanting to complete the general satisfaction at JSpsoin L'ps aiui Downs.

(All the unopened champagne bottles burst with a simultaneous bang; and taking advantage o f tlte geneViU confusion, the curtain, who is not a green one, but an old hand, sneaks quietly down.)

SMOOTHING THE BDGES.

It has always been a great question in the theory of rhyming whether one should appeal to tho eye or to the ear of one's readers. Is "come" or " comb," for instance, the better rhyme for "home?" The former is much prettier to look at; the latter is much nicer to listen to. Which is the legitimate object of verso—to be seen), or to be heard P

It strikes us that the question might be disposed of in a very simple and satisfactory way by the adoption of a bran-new method—of which, by the bye, wo reserve the right of translation. Let future versifiers contrive to gratify two senses at the same time. This may be done by taking a few very trifling liberties with orthography whenever orthography happens to come in tho poet's way. Let us illustrate this.

Our own acquaintance with English poetry commenced in the cradle. Even yet we can recite certain versos that were familiar to us bofore we were big enough to be trusted with a Noah's Ark. (X.B.—When we were trusted with a Noah's Ark, wo beg to say that we behaved very tenderly to the dumb animals, and contented ourselves with sucking all the paint off the bodies of Shem, Ham, and jAniETH.) The verses in question began with the words, "Twinkle, twinklo" (which are not words, but only one'word artfully repeated, with a design of making it sound like two; a knack which has been pilfered by Alfred Tenny60nvide "Break, break, break," passim.) Now these verses, though perfectly satisfactory to the ear, present rhymes which are very far from good-looking. Should our theory be embraced, wo hope to see them made more perfect in future. Thus:—

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star;
How I wonder what you ar!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the skigh!" &c.

But, after all, it is only proper that we should illustrate our new and original notion upon a new and original poem. It's not a great deal too full of thought, perhaps, but we con answer for the rhymes:— Spring, tho late comer—bright herald of Somer

Has deck'd with her garlands the threshold of June.
London's at leisure for frolic and pleisure,

And carnival comes not a minute too sune;
Sunshiny weather brings trooping togeather

The wise and the witty, the rich and tho poor;
The road to the Derby is quite rus in erby
(You've probably heard the quotation befoor).

Racing delights us, and Epsom invights us,

And modus of conveyance are thoughtfully plann'd.
Folks are preparing to take for an a'ring

The modest four-wheeler, or trim four-in-hann'd.
Fortnum And Mason (who relish a ras, on

Account of the eating and drinking that's done)
May do all they can, Sir, but nothing will ansir

Unless you remember to purchase your Fone!

Thero! wo could go on like this for several hours if we chose; but wo don't wish to over-exert ourselves just at present, in consequence of something that is to take place on Wednesday.

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