MRS. BROWN ON SOCIETY. I CERTAINLY very well knows that I'm better off nor ever I expected to be, but that's not my case alone, for look at them Lord Mayors, as often comes from nothing, and LOUIS NAPOLEON, as I've heard say was brought down to mend his own boots in a back garret of St. Giles's, where in my opinion he might be now for all I cares, for I don't hold with them Brummagem kings and queens like some, as might as well stop in the Sandwich Islands as come here a-showin' their black faces, as I see her myself with nothin' but a converted boatswain for a father, though they do say as she is amiable, but, as I says, why not stop at home, and then no questions wouldn't be asked. As for that MISS CHELLINS a-tellin' me as they wouldn't never have asked me into their society if they'd know'd as I'd been a monthly nuss its downright cheek. So I says, MISS CHELLINS, your words is falsehood, though pr'aps unbeknown to utter. I never were a monthly nuss; not as I'm goin' to deny havin' been with parties in their troubles, as I should not mention through its bein' a-blowin' of my own trumpet, for I'm sure I never got a penny by it, and neglected my own home through a seein' after others as proved ungrateful," as I'm sure that MRS. WADDELL was, as I stayed with off and on over six weeks, and then to say as she couldn't sleep for my snores, as am a infant in my slumbers. "No," I says, "MISS CHELLINS, I can hold my head up with anybody, for I was a poor girl, though brought up respectable, with hardworkin' parents, and my father a fellowship porter, as was crushed between two lighters a-closin' as he slipped with a sack of wheat on his back, and a mercy he wasn't drownded though, and never able for to straighten hisself to his dyin' day, and fourteen shillin's a week pension ain't much for them as had had three pounds and five in family, and I'm sure the way as my dear mother slaved is a credit to her memory, as lies in Horselydown Churchyard, though a-wishin' to be buried in Redriff with her parents, close to PRINCE LEBOO, as they didn't never ought to have brought from his friends, as is well-known that they never can live through it, for however can they throw it out through a black skin, as must be that tough as defies perspiration. "So when she was a widow and me only sixteen, I goes to service, and never had but two places in seven years, as ended in marrying BROWN, as were as steady as Old Time with a horse and cart. "I had worked hard as a gal at home, and worked hard as a wife, and the mother of five and buried two. A happy wife too, though I must say I do think as BROWN were harsh about NED, as wasn't a bad boy, though one as would answer, as the father couldn't give in to; but pr'aps it's all for the best, though I did nearly break my heart when he 'listed; but now as he's give up soldierin', is doin' well in Canada, and sent me home that five pounds, as is in the savings' bank now for him, as I'd rather have starved than touched, I seems reconciled. "He was a fine young fellow as ever you see, just under six feet in his socks, with a good, honest face, and a mouth of teeth as might make a elephant envious for ivory. "I shan't never forget the evenin' as he come in to wish me goodbye, because BROWN wouldn't see him and only seventeen. He was a brave boy. How I loved him when I see him with his under lip a-quiverin' like a arrow; but he didn't give way, and I wouldn't neither, but spoke cheerful, a-tryin' for to joke him about his red coat. It wouldn't do though, for I was pretty near a-chokin' and when he got up sudden like and said, 'Good-bye, mother. Say God bless you, NED, and then I shall go happy,' I thought I must have died; but no, I didn't, I give him a hearty mother's kiss and said, 'God bless you, my boy,' and off he went, but what it cost me to part with him, and just at Christmas too, nobody would ever know in this world." I says, "MISS CHELLINS, I'll trouble you for to take your muddy boots off my fender." I could a-said they ain't nothin' for to show, as was kid tops wore to nothin', only I wouldn't hurt her feelin's, though she might have had the mud brushed off, for poverty ain't no crime, though, in my opinion, dirt is despisable. So she says, "I'm a-goin'." I says, "By all means." She says, "I didn't go and say nothin' to MRS. BUTLER, as was the party as told me as you was a nuss, and your daughters in service, and MR. BROWN only a engine-driver." I says, "Both my daughters was in service decided, and our JANET is married to a ivory-turner and a-doin' well, though not a young man as ever I took to, and don't see much on, for I never did go very often when they was in two rooms, and am not goin' now as they've got a pretty house, furnished beautiful, as I've only seen it twice, through him gettin' into a large way of business in the turnin' line. "As to my ELIZA, as is the child of my heart, she's been three years in Devonshire, and is a-goin' to be married next month to a young farmer, with two hundred acres of land, though livin' with a mother-in-law wouldn't suit me. "I wants her to come home to be married, and she wants me to go there through the young ladies where she's been a-livin' a-wanting her to be married there. "I don't know how they'll settle it; but I don't think as they'll ketch me a-doin' Devonshire this time of year, as is all very well in the spring, not as I holds with their clotted cream a-comin' up reg'lar churned by the railway." As I was a-sayin' to MISS CHELLINS, "Don't you ever fancy as your clothes will ever set the wuss on your back for bein' paid for honest with money as you've worked for. There's many gals now a-flauntin' about in dirty finery, as is a disgrace, with a cane crinoline for to stick it out, as might have been a decent servant and a credit to herself." So she ups and says as she never had no occasions to work, for her pa was a gentleman. A pretty sort of gentleman with the heels wore off his boots and the fingers out of his gloves, with two hundred a year in some office, and eight to keep out of it, and owin' seventeen pounds at the chandlery shop, as I wouldn't have the firewood from. I have seen the butcher with my own eyes take the joint from the door through not givin' them credit for nothin'. I hadn't no patience with that gal a-settin' there a-talkin' about balls and parties, and how as her ma meant to give one, and for to ask me. So I says, MISS CHELLINS, if you think as I wants any of your parties you're quite mistook, so don't let your ma bother her head about me." She says, "I dare say as you would feel awkward as you did at MRS. BUTLER'S." I says, "Pray, whoever said as I was awkward anywhere," I says, "and as to MRS. BUTLER, she's no lady, and as to givin' parties, I think if she was to take her own father out of the workhouse it would be as well." I quite forgot as MISS CHELLINS were niece to MRS. BUTLER, and as it were her grandpapa consequential in the workhouse. Up she fires and says as he'd brought it on hisself through drink and gamin'. As quiet a old man, bless you, as can be, and doin' well once in the coal-shed line, where MRS. BODDY, as washes my heavy things, know'd him well. I says, "MISS CHELLINS, poverty ain't no disgrace, though very ill convenient; but," I says, "don't go for to take away his character, poor old gentleman." She says, "He might a-rode in his carriage.” I says, "Rubbish! you means the cart as he took round the coals and wegetables in, as no doubt he often did." If she didn't get up and say I were a low-lived party, and not fit for society. So I says, "No, thank you, I am not, if society means a-cuttin' of a shabby genteel figger, with a rubbishin' gown on and stockin's as would disgrace a sweep, and a-starvin' of a servant-gal, and goin' in debt for a hearthstone, and a top of all that, givin' a party with nothin' fit to eat or drink, then I'm not fit for it, and don't want it." I says, "None of your dashin' ways for me, as is only another name for the Insolvency Court." Well, she didn't hear no more, but goes out all of a bounce, and banged the street-door pretty near off its hinges. 66 When BROWN was a-readin' the paper in the evenin', "Hallo," he "What?" says I. "Insolvent," says he. I thought I should have dropped, to think of me a-hurtin' that poor gal's feelin's like that; but I says, "I'll go over the first thing in the mornin', and see if MRS. CHELLINS wants a friend, for though I don't want none of her society, p'raps she'll put up with me now, when I dare say the evenin' party folks won't care to be there." "HIT YOUR MATCH." (A Rule of the Ring.) GLORIOUS Old Conquistador, Could'st thou know, thou would'st deplore Thou, with few against the many, Bade the challenge trumpet speak; I hear the Muse of History sobbing, WHy is an adhesive envelope like a boy who doesn't know his lesson ?-Because it is licked and turned down. OUR LIBRARY TABLE. HRISTMAS books still crowd upon us. MESSRS. CASSELL, PETTER, and GALPIN have issued another volume of DORE'S Illustrations illustrations of a wonderfully grotesque character, and to that pre-eminently grotesque book Baron Munchausen. MR. SHORE, the editor, gives a preface, in which he enters minutely into the history of this curious farrago of falsehoods, and seems anxious to give to England the honour of its production. The edition contains far more than any other we have met with; some of the stories thus restored having a family likeness to a few old fairy legends. The text of the translation is easy and rollicking, the illustrations full of humour. A couple of plates, illustrative of the Baron's progress at the bottom of the sea, are very fine specimens of wood-engraving. Altogether, the book forms a present such as all who enjoy good pictures and absurd stories will thoroughly appreciate. The Magic Mirror, by MR. GILBERT, with whose novel, De Profundis, our readers are or ought to be-acquainted, is published by MR. STRAHAN, with numerous illustrations by MR. W. S. GILBERT. It is a capital collection of stories, each containing a moral which, however, is never forced too prominently forward, and all being strung on the main thread so as to carry on the interest to the end, where the reader is left to decipher a puzzle from which only a knowledge of the Hebrew character (we don't mean an acquaintance with Jew bill-discounters), can extricate him. The story of the Sacristan of St. Botolph and that of Giles the Swineherd, are particularly funny, and carry a good point which tickles one generally about the seventh rib. The cuts are very grotesque and full of character, the demons in particular being so original that we hope the artist, with an eye to appropriative property men, has patented them. There is more genuine caricature about these sketches than can be met with in half the socalled grotesqueries of the day. We have also received The Twelfth Finger of the Left Hand but One, which, to our surprise, turns out to be the Christmas Number of FUN. Modesty prevents us from saying it is the best Christmas number out, while a regard for veracity will not permit us to say it is not. Under these circumstances, we leave it to our readers to judge for themselves. THE FENIAN GOVERNMENT. THOSE (if any) of our readers who have not yet visited COLONEL JOHN O'MAHONY, the President of the Fenian Government at the Fenian Headquarters, in Moffat Mansion, Seventeenth-street, New York, can form no adequate idea of the magnitude and importance of the business transacted by that functionary every day of his life. The responsibility of the conquest of even such an insignificant island as England is a tolerably good load for one pair of shoulders to bear; and the enterprising Colonel is said to exhibit unmistakable traces of anxiety and over-work. A plaintiff in a mere "apple-sass" case may be pardoned if he exhibits some nervousness as to the result of his petty law-operations; and COLONEL O'MAHONY is but a mortal. It is quite true that England is but a mole on the face of the ocean-a sort of a wart-you-may-call-it-but moles are not easily eradicated, and they have an awkward way of springing up after they are, to all appearance, satisfactorily subdued, which is always embarrassing to the operator. The effect of anxiety and overwork is beginning to tell upon COLONEL O'MAHONY. He rambles in his speech, his knees knock together, he has acquired a nervous habit of running pins into his legs, he has an unnatural passion for black beetles, and he wears a Wellington boot on his head; he dresses himself principally in boot-jacks and antimacassars, and he always walks about with one arm high in the air. Notwithstanding these distressing symptoms, he attends faithfully to his military and other duties, as the following leaf from his diary will show : 4 a.m.-Got up. Fine morning, but cold. October 1, 1865. 4.5 a.m.-Presided at a Court Martial (officer present, COLONEL O'MAHONY), convened to try JEMIMA ATKINS, for neglect of duty in not sending up my shaving water hot. Prisoner reprimanded. Will be dismissed the service if the offence is repeated. 4.30 a.m.-Breakfast. Rations served out to the troops (GENERAL TEVIS and MR. KILLEAN), consisted of 6 ozs. of bloater, 1 oz. of butter, lb. bread (best seconds), -pint of coffee, per head. Investigated complaint from SECRETARY KILLEAN as to invariable hardness of roe in bloater served to that officer. Complaint dismissed as frivolous. 5 a.m.-Issued an order that the Fenian Government should parade in my dressing-room at 10, to consider propriety of effecting a ten per cent. loan of ten dollars from MR. SECRETARY KILLEAN. 5.30 a.m.-Investigated the principle of air-gun of novel construction submitted to me by inventor. The principle is simple. A cylinder of wood, six inches in length, is fitted with two cylindrical shot, one at each extremity. Pressure from without is applied to the base of one of the shot, and the consequent compression of the air within the cylinder expels the other shot with considerable force. Ordered six of these weapons for the use of my own bodyguard. 6 a.m.-Wrote a letter to QUEEN VICTORIA advising her immediate resignation. I put it thus: If the Fenians invade England, murder will ensue-murder is a vice; virtue is better than vice-resignation is a virtue; ergo, it is better that QUEEN VICTORIA should resign than that the Fenians should invade England. 7 a.m.-Inspected the Fenian army in the back garden. 8 a.m.-Presided at Court-martial to try six general officers for leading their troops over my potato beds. Sentence deferred. 9 a.m.-This being my birthday I fired twenty-one pistols from the second floor front, in honour of the anniversary. 9.30 a.m.-Received deputation from influential neighbours threatening to indict me as a nuisance. Apologised to deputation, and promised not to do it again. Mem.: Next to strategic excellence, diplomacy is the talent that a Commander-in-Chief should most particularly cultivate. 10 a.m.-Meeting of Fenian Government, to consider propriety of effecting a ten per cent. loan of ten dollars from MR. SECRETARY KILLEAN. Present, COLONEL O'MAHONY and MR. SECRETARY KILLEAN. Proposal negatived: Ayes, 0: Noes, 1. Mem.: Wish I had attended to SECRETARY KILLEAN's complaint about hard roe. 11 a.m.-Purchased a bayonet, a powder flask, a bugle, and a feather for my cocked hat. Paid with an order on the Bank of England for £10,000 at sixty days. 12 a.m.-Drew up code of laws for Fenian Government. 1 p.m.-Invited all my generals to dine with me at four. 2 p.m.-Postponed dinner to all my generals. 3 p.m.-Effected a loan of thirteen cents. from MR. SECRETARY KILLEAN, to be repaid on conquering England, with Britain's Regalia as bonus. 3.30 p.m.-Granted interview to PRIVATE O'SHAUGHNESSY. Showed me a loaded pistol of curious construction, explained its mechanism, and asked to be made a general officer. Commission as Major-General made out. 4 p.m.-The Fenian Government dined. Chops on batter pudding. Investigated complaint by SECRETARY KILLEAN as to alleged burntness of chop. Cook sentenced to be beheaded. Cook respited at request of SECRETARY KILLEAN. 4.30 p.m.-Grand Sham Fight in Moffat Mansion. Attacking party, my tailor, my bootmaker, and my butcher. Defending party, the front staircase. COLONEL O'MAHONY reconnoitred them as they COLONEL O'MAHONY. The enemy advanced in skirmishing order up approached, through keyhole. Enemy halted at top of staircase, and surrender. COLONEL O'MAHONY refused to surrender, and barricaded proposed a parley. Parley unsatisfactory. Enemy demanded a citadel. his door. Enemy rushed at door, broke it down and entered the through back window on to scullery leads, and so into garden, where But in the meantime COLONEL O'MAHONY had escaped he intended to spend the night. Enemy eventually retired discomfited. Mem.: The next best thing to a good victory is a judicious retreat. MEASURES NOT MONEY. WE read in a contemporary that the "Abyssinian Captives' Liberation Fund amounts, at present, to £1,500." Yes! But what are the chances of freedom? The captives, no doubt, say, "Give us liberty and hang your liberality!" How it dwells Upon bathos! how it tells Of the lesson that impels All the sighing and the lying Of the belles, belles, belles, Of the belles, belles, belles, belles, All the glancing and the dancing of the belles Hear the loudly-talking belles, How we sorrowfully gaze upon their costume, since it tells And the dark eyes how they flash on Every simple-looking girl! To the tune, With a noisy explanation of their doings in the Row, With a careless declaration that the ball is very slow. Dancing round, round, round, To the merry music's sound, Never pausing for a breath, Tho' their partners, pale as death, Look and gasp as if they'd fall into a swoon. What a tale your muslin tells; How you sneer and pick to pieces How you flirt upon the fifty-seventh stair; Yet the people guess at last, By your laughing, And your chaffing, Your vocabulary's fast. And the ear distinctly tells You are slangy, And slap-bangy, From your joking with the swells, And their easy conversation with the loudly-talking belles, With the belles, With the belles, belles, belles, belles, Belles, belles, belles, From the grinning and the dinning of the belles ! A RIVAL TO MADAME RACHEL. SINCE a person, to whom we need not more particularly allude, painted his tail pea-green, and his remark upon the neat and not gaudy effect thereof became a household word, the embellishment of nature by means of art has made great strides. A lady who wishes to commit a social felony by stealing a march upon time, may give any colour to her designs by simply applying to a perfumer, and avoid the hue and cry by ying a change of hair-not of the atmosphere, but simply of the head. And a gentleman also but let us draw a veil over this part of the subject. There are more things in whiskers than are dreamed of in the philosophy of most people. As for complexions, the Ethiopian who has an idea of changing his skin, or the leopard who thinks he would look prettier plain than spotted, need only make a call upon MADAME RACHEL, who, according to a popular police report, undertakes to smooth the path in life even of the pock-marked. In Paris at the present time they paint dogs and babies. No lady of good taste would think of wearing a green poodle with a blue dress, or a mauve terrier with such a killing colour as magenta. As for babies, but we believe they only paint these what the heralds call proper, that is to say the natural colours made as brilliant as you please. But let us get to the point if the reader has no objection. Our remarks have reference to a rival to MADAME RACHEL, said to be shortly forthcoming. This lady, whose name we will not mention for fear of consequences, is prepared to change, not only the countenances of her customers, but the face of Nature herself. The old dame (we allude to nature) being of a considerable age, has of course lost many of her attractions. We don't like to talk about it, but any of us who have lived to a certain age cannot fail to see a falling off in that respectable female; a want of freshness, and even the presence of wrinkles and pimples, which used not to be in the days of our youth. Her lost charms Madame-but we would perish in the attempt to conceal it rather than reveal her name-undertakes to restore. Through the influence of the fashion which she intends to set, all that absurd collection of hills and dales, trees, flowers, and the rest of it which we are accustomed to call "the country," will come out with an entirely new mounting, at least as far as private property is concerned. Nature's verdant livery, for instance, will be no more worn, except by common objects, the lower orders of creation, in short. The better classes of landscapes will be coloured according to the prevailing taste of the day, and we shall see such entries in the fashion books as these: "Trees this season will be worn of a pale blue, so as to form an agreeable contrast with the magenta sky, still so much in vogue. Mauve hedges are considered in good taste, edged with silver, but not with gold, as the little hills have been tipped with that so long as to make the ornament quite rococo." "Water still preserves its pea-green tint in the best nobleman's parks, and the fashion is rapidly extending to running streams." "We saw a sweet thing in forests last week on the estate of the of -. The trees were all party-coloured, like a harlequin, the brilliant effect being heightened by a sea-green sky, the invention we believe of the lordly owner. Nothing could be more chaste than the ensemble." The mania among the select few to whom the idea is known, has, we are informed thoroughly set in. And it seems that one ingenious gentleman who has occupied a checquered and variegated career of many years' duration in doing everything for everybody else and nothing for himself, is engaged in inventing a new colour, in order to allow of a full development of the discovery. His creditors hope that it will prove to be the colour of his money, which he has kept so long a secret as to put expectation on the qui vive. We shall not fail to submit to our readers any further information on the subject, which may be withheld from us. Answers to Correspondents. VENISON sends us two contributions unfitted for publication, and thoughtfully encloses some potted venison in the form of a prepared reply, which says, "Your effusions are too high for our delicate palate." It so happens, however, that they are too low. ALPHONSO.-The drawings are funny, but the question is, would they be suited for appearance on the block? Wedoubt if they weod. But we can hand them to an artist if you like. AN ARABIAN KNIGHT.-We don't know the end of "The Three Calendars," but one SULTANA has sent us a scented Almanack. T. L. M., Leicester.-We like the verses, though not exactly suited for our columns. But why are they in a different hand from that in your note? Which is your write hand? H. T. O., Jersey-Many thanks for The Mistletoe, which, however, we, like the Druids of old, are compelled to cut. J. E. J., Chelsea.-Good. But if we printed the "Essence of the Press," we should be pressed to death. HARRY JONES.-Your " Railway Reminiscence" must have been written on the Eastern Counties, it is so irregular. D. The behaviour of the deputation to MR. CARDWELL, like the conduct of its favourite blacks at Jamaica, is too revolting to be made fun of. L. P., Clapham Park-Your lines are not in our line. Declined with thanks. London: Printed by JUDD & GLASS, Phoenix Works, St. Andrew's Hill, Doctors' Commons, and Published (for the Proprietors) by THOMAS BAKER at 80, Fleet-street, E.C.-December 20, 1865. A RETROSPECT. DECEMBER 31st, 1865.-MIDNIGHT. SI watch the embers dying, While the year is dying too, Though I know Time's simply flying, The favourite old tale is the favourite one of all favourites, The Sleeping Beauty, a story retold by how many and with what various success! But MR. PLANCHE need not fear because the Poet Laureate has gone over the same ground. TENNYSON is TENNYSON in The DayDream, but PLANCHE is the genuine legend. MR. DOYLE, whose pencil does not work now-a-days as often as it should, has drawn some charming pictures of the story, though with a curious waywardness he has avoided giving us some of the great points of the story-the waking of Beauty, for instance. Perhaps he declined to retraverse ground that has been gone over so often, but he might have imitated the modest courage of MR. PLANCHE with advantage. The most striking picture to our notion is the "Abode of the Wicked Fairy," in which the best engraving and the best printing assist to the utmost the best design of the artist. Altogether the book is one of the most dedeclen-lightful gift-books of the season. Just as Time will always do; Still, through fault of apprehension, I would fain enquire in doubt, As I muse on life's sion, "Is the old year really out?" Filled me with a lofty vision, (Nothing in them that was true,) When your course had just begun— Now I'm held up to derision For your moments all are done. Faith! I seem but little more Perfectly, I can remember What my purposes then were,- Smoking in this self-same chair; They have sunk!-in vain I gazed! I have done but little, though Much I planned twelve months ago! When I see the whole creation Marching at no dronish pace, Why am I to my vexation Ever stationed in one place? Time, whose motto's "always moving," This sole mandate, 66 as you were." Why then, dead year, should there be Sixty-Five, you should not leave me I have trusted-you deceive me! Will he prove e'en such another As yourself-or worse-who knows? Will you play the same old tricks? Tell me, infant Sixty-Six? OUR LIBRARY TABLE. An Old Fairy Tale told Anew (ROUTLEDGE). Well, there is nothing like the old fairy tales,-but, then, who tells them anew? Who? Please look at the cover, and when you see on it two such names as PLANCHE and DOYLE, we rather fancy you will ask no more questions, but take the book and read it-devour it steadily "from title-page to closing line." Ah, what smooth, easy, correct versification! And ah, what jolly pictures! Let us see what other charms there are to make the book so nice :-it is printed at the Camden Press and the DALZIELS engrave the illustrations, and beyond that there is nothing left to be desired. VOL. II. Enoch Arden (MoxON) has been entrusted for illustration to MR. ARTHUR HUGHES, who, though hitherto known chiefly for his charm of colour, has done some good work with his new material, wood, which, after all, is the great test of the artist now-a-days, as etching was in early times. MR. HUGHES has succeeded best with his views -the seaport on the first page, the hazel-wood on the second, the beached boat at page 14, the sun-rise at 54, the return at 59, and the illustration at 70, are all remarkable works, but the boldest and best of MR. HUGHES' pictures is that belonging to the lines"There came so loud a calling of the sea That all the houses in the haven rang." A more truthful representation of such a sea or a more fearless attempt to render the extraordinary form taken by the foam of a fierce breaker we have not often seen. The engraver has done his work fairly, but a practised eye can detect points where he has failed to interpret the artist's meaning, which, however, is not altogether surprising where the artist is new to his material. Of the poetry it is needless to speak. Though not to our thinking the finest poem for which the world is indebted to MR. TENNYSON, Enoch Arden is one of the most popular. The printing is excellent, the paper is something marvellous for thickness and surface, and the covering rich, though we do not think MR. ALBERT WARREN has been altogether happy in his design. MR. TENNYSON's poems are always welcome, and Enoch Arden will not be the less so for the splendid mounting which has been bestowed on it. ONE of the best and most unflattered likenesses of the QUEEN that we have ever seen has just been published by MR. MITCHELL, of Bond Street. The portrait is engraved from a photograph, and the engraving is such as few could achieve but MR. HOLL. HER MAJESTY holds PRINCE ALBERT VICTOR on her knee, and is attired in widow's weeds. THE PALMY DAYS. THE drama is degenerate, young sir, don't talk to me! I won't be talked to, when I see the things I daily see; I shrug and sigh, and groan, ah, why are fled those noble plays, We used to see with such delight in bygone" palmy days?" You talk of tragedy, boy,-pooh! you never see one now, All scenery, gimcrackery, rant, rubbish, raving row; You have a moon that's like a moon, such realistic stuff! A candle held behind the scene in my time was enough; I miss that model of a youth beneath whose waistcoat beat A heart, etcetera-that youth, alas, I never meet; Where is his valet smart and trim, free, fast, and debonnair, |