He called me "thief" the other day,

And daily from his door he thrusts me;

This

So deaf to all sound Reason's

rule

poor uneducated clown is,

You cannot fancy what a fool

Poor rich uneducated BROWN is.

SIR MACKLIN

F all the youths I ever saw

OF None were so wicked, vain, or silly,

So lost to shame and Sunday law

As worldly Toм, and Вов, and BILLY.

In parks or gardens, where they talked.
From three to six, or even later.

SIR MACKLIN was a priest severe
In conduct and in conversation,

It did a sinner good to hear
Him deal in ratiocination.

He could in every action show

Some sin, and nobody could doubt him. He argued high, he argued low,

He also argued round about him.

He wept to think each thoughtless youth Contained of wickedness a skinful, And burnt to teach the awful truth, That walking out on Sunday's sinful.

"Oh, youths," said he, "I grieve to find The course of life you've been and hit on Sit down," said

he, "and

never mind

The pennies for

the chairs

you sit on.

My opening head is Kensington,’ How walking there the sinner hardens, Which when I have enlarged upon,

I go to Secondly' - its Gardens.'

"My Thirdly' comprehendeth Hyde,' Of Secrecy the guilt, and shameses :

My Fourthly'- Park' its verdure wide. My Fifthly comprehends St. James's.'

6

"That matter settled I shall reach

The Sixthly' in my solemn tether,
And show that what is true of each,
Is also true of all, together.

"Then I shall demonstrate to you,
According to the rules of Whately,
That what is true of all, is true
Of each, considered separately."

In lavish stream his accents flow,
Tом, Вов, and BILLY dare not flout him ;

He argued high, he argued low,

He also argued round about him.

Ha, ha!" he said, “you loathe your ways, You writhe at these, my words of warning, In agony your hands

you raise.'

He argued high, he argued low,
He also argued round about him.

Ho, ho!" he cries, “ you bow your crests
My eloquence has set you weeping;

His Bishop at this moment chanced

To pass, and found the road encumbered; He noticed how the Churchman danced, And how his congregation slumbered.

The hundred and eleventh head

The priest completed of his stricture;
Oh, bosh!" the worthy Bishop said,
And walked him off, as in the picture.