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 DOBELL COLLECTION 
 
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 THE PHENOMENON; 
 
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 1856. 
 
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 lonoos : 
 Cst-MAN, Printer, 42, Albany Street, Regent's Park. 
 
 205449 
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CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Dedication . . . . . .1 
 
 The Millhall Alphabet . . . 9 
 
 From Innistymon to Galway . . . .13 
 
 " The Charitable Trusts Amendment Act 1855 " . . 34 
 
 The Charity Commission Alphabet . . . .43 
 
 From " The Cuckfield Polite Intelligencer " , . . 46 
 
 Coelebs in Difficulties . . . . .51 
 
 The Marylebone Gardens Literary Association . . 60 
 
 A Legend of St. Clement's Caves . . .63 
 
 A Tragedy in Real Life . . . . 90 
 
 Oddments . . . . . .93 
 
 Epistles Dedicatory . . . 99 
 
 Epitaph on My Ugly Dog Rose . . .106 
 
DEDICATED 
 
 (not by ant means) 
 TO 
 
 J. M. E. and E. E. 
 
 BY 
 THEIR ENTHUSIASTIC ADMIRER, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 Forasmuch as, my beauties, this cool dedication 
 Has moved your (I own it is just) indignation ; 
 I'll make you amends, so come hither my lasses 
 And take a small peep through my opera glasses. 
 Now open your eyes, and I'll show to you soon 
 Something much farther off and more strange than the 
 
 moon. 
 Be steady, the focus is right " to a T," 
 And presently " you shall see vot you shall see," 
 
 [As the exhibitors of half-penny peepshows say.] 
 
 b 2 
 
The year 1900; the time, afternoon; 
 
 Weather, sultry, as commonly happens in June, 
 
 So much for the date ; now imagine a scene, 
 
 A park, with broad acres of woodland and green ; 
 
 To finish the picture, suppose, if you please, 
 
 A stately old mansion embosomed in trees ; 
 
 Broad-antlered proud red-deer in grave stately groups, 
 
 And their small spotted cousins in merry bright troops ; 
 
 Add plenty of these, and you'll then have complete 
 
 Sir Henry Deer Parker's magnificent seat. 
 
 Now, my dears, upon closer inspection you'll see 
 
 Sir H.'s good wife, Lady Henry D. P. 
 
 Benign in her look, and still bearing the trace, 
 
 Though aged, of many a juvenile grace ; 
 
 And still quite sufficiently lovely to prove 
 
 Sir Henry's good taste in the choice of his love. 
 
 In an arbour she sits, and she sits so entranced 
 
 With a book, that Sir H. has, unheeded, advanced. 
 
 " I'm glad that you manage so well to beguile 
 
This dull afternoon," said our knight with a smile ; 
 " But I really am curious, dearest, to know 
 What that manuscript is which amuses you so." 
 " Indeed, my dear love, 'tisn't anything new, 
 Nor what would in any way interest you ; 
 Some scraps of bad prose and indifferent rhymes 
 Composed by my brother in byegone old times." 
 
 " O that brother, named William I think, whom 
 you said 
 Was gone to Australia, and probably dead." 
 
 The krtight took the book, but he soon put it down, 
 And the only critique he vouchsafed was a frown. 
 Then said Lady Parker, "I see by your look 
 What your kindness forbids you to say of my book. 
 That the prose is uncommonly foolish, is true, 
 And the Muse whom my poet invoked, a sad ' screw.' 
 But strangely enough 'tis that folly I prize, 
 And the old childish nonsense refreshes my eyes : 
 They remind mc of days that will never come back 
 
(Time will not retrace e'en his pleasantest track) 
 
 Of incidents, games, jokes, and frolics they tell, 
 
 When I was 'Old Tom'— Mrs. Mortimer, 'Nell.' 
 
 They bring too a pleasing, half-sad, recollection 
 
 Of the various pets of our early affection ; 
 
 Of Tilly, Puss, Jupy, and darling old Billy, 
 
 And divers strange favourites petted by Willy. 
 
 Hereby too small traits are to memory led 
 
 Of friends, altered, married, lost sight of, or dead ; 
 
 And pleasures of childhood, thought great, ere I knew 
 
 Felicity's acme, in marrying you.'' 
 
 The Bishop had dined, as such dignities ought, 
 On turtle, fish, venison, brown sherry, and port. 
 'Twas natural then he should feel inclination 
 For a little grave, dignified, calm contemplation. 
 The episcopal eyes were so tranquilly closed, 
 That the very profane might have said that he dozed . 
 Though grunts, not especially musical, proved 
 
By what deep disquisitions his spirit was moved. 
 At length a loud snort, mighty-thundering, broke 
 Philosophical mists, and, in fact, he awoke. 
 To conceal what had happened he manfully tried 
 By opening his eyes very painfully wide ; 
 And when understanding returned to his look, 
 He perceived Mrs. Mortimer reading a book. 
 " My Eleanor, what are you reading?" 
 
 " Some scraps 
 By my brother, you'd like to peruse them, perhaps." 
 
 He looked at three pages, and found that enough ; 
 And said " Really, my dear, this is terrible stuff. 
 Your brother of course is exempt from abuse, 
 But I'm glad that his sister is not such a goose." 
 
 4t Dear George, you must know, that that brother oi 
 mine 
 Was a goose in a very peculiar line, 
 He liked these small scraps, though so dismally bad, 
 Much better than anything else which he had. 
 
(The reason I need not enlarge on to you. 
 
 But I've similar causes for liking them too ; 
 
 For here are some strokes by a wittier hand, 
 
 And spangles of gold are washed down in the sand) : 
 
 And so, a small compliment wishing to pay, 
 
 (For he loved us both much in a rough sulky way), 
 
 He thought it might please Lady Parker and me 
 
 To dedicate to us his volume you see ; 
 
 So when of your beautiful sermons you show me none, 
 
 I shall take, ' unbeknown,' a sly sip of 
 
 'Phenomenon.' " 
 
THE MILLHALL ALPHABET. 
 
 DEDICATED TO MISS E. EKLE. 
 
 A is this Alphabet, written for you, 
 
 And stands for the Attics, the "back " and the "blue." 
 
 B is that sturdy antique Blunder-buss, 
 
 Which an enemy's views would concisely discuss, 
 
 For its big brazen barrel and menacing muzzle 
 
 Form arguments likely to prove a stiff puzzle 
 
 Should any queer gentleman feel inclination 
 
 To drop in at midnight without invitation, 
 
 Though if the strict actual truth must be known, 
 
 I'd rather be shot at than fire it, I own. 
 
10 
 
 C are those pairs of preposterous legs 
 Whence a cataract rushes of little brown eggs ; 
 We allude to those utterly comical creatures, 
 The Cochins, a practical joke of Dame Nature's, 
 D the Ducklings so awkwardly waddling about, 
 Like rustic militiamen newly called out ; 
 See how they go carelessly quacking at ease 
 'Midst onion and sage beds, and rows of green peas, 
 Unsuspecting (such ignorance darkens their minds) 
 What link their own fate to those esculents binds. 
 E would have been that adorable She, 
 Could any have deigned Millhall's mistress to be ; 
 As it is, it must tolerate standing for me. 
 F is the legion of Frogs who contrive 
 In the cellar on mildew and sawdust to thrive. 
 G is the " Gai-ery " teeming with girls, 
 Piled up to the ceiling with stacks of Miss Erles. 
 H are the Hollies, the garden which grace, 
 (Entre nous, there is nought of the kind near the 
 place ! ) 
 
11 
 
 J is the Jessamine covered with bloom, 
 Which fills all the house with delicious perfume. 
 K the bright Kettle at breakfast they bring ; 
 L the logs which persuade the said kettle to sing. 
 M is our jack-of-all-trades, Mary Ellis, 
 Who butler, page, footman, and housemaid as well, is. 
 N are the Nettles — deuce take 'em ! and O 
 The Oranges which in our hothouse would grow, 
 That is, if we had one ; 'twill also denote 
 The Onions, whence perfumes, not " Araby's," float. 
 P is the Poney we wish we could buy, 
 And that wonderful Pond so excessively dry. 
 Q, what is Q, ? that's a difficult question ; 
 T would stand for a Quince-tree well, if we possessed 
 
 one. 
 II are the Rabbits we purpose to get, 
 And the Roses which match not your cheeks my old 
 
 pet. 
 S the Storeroom, where marvellous treasures we hoard . 
 
12 
 
 For therein a small cheese and three candles are stored. 
 
 T stands for the trees, limes, ashes, and firs. 
 
 U — we sigh for a notion, but nothing occurs. 
 
 V represents the swift veloci-pede, 
 
 A nag, economical very, to feed. 
 
 A drink from a paint-pot is all that he begs, 
 
 With occasional spoonfuls of oil for his legs. 
 
 W is the Witt,* rubicund and rotund, 
 
 And, if her name meriting, likewise jo-cund. 
 
 Neither X, Y, nor Z, any subject will fit, 
 
 You must tackle them please with the aid of a " Witt." 
 
 * Late housekeeper. 
 
FROM INNISTYMON TO GALWAY, 
 
 You have never seen the west-coast of Ireland? Then 
 that is a great treat to come. My first introduction to 
 its glories took place on a bright morning in October, 
 under the most favourable auspices. The sky was un- 
 speakably blue ; the air sharp and clear ; and the sun 
 of the concentrated brilliancy of all the new sixpences 
 ever issued from the mint. The equinoctial gales, which 
 had lately set in with considerable force from the 
 north-west, brought up occasionally dark banks of 
 clouds, with heavy scuds of rain, so that every thing 
 conspired to produce the most magnificent effects of 
 
14 
 
 light and shadow. Shortly after we left a small place 
 called Innistymon, in the County Clare, on the road to 
 Liscanor Bay, the broad Atlantic burst suddenly into 
 view, reflecting the deep iodine hue of the sky in an 
 immeasurable expanse of purple, edged along the coast 
 with a narrow fringe of snow-white foam. Just north 
 of Liscanor, are the celebrated Moher Cliffs, starting 
 black and precipitous from the water's edge, and 
 pretty well swilled, no doubt, by the " impetuous 
 surge," when a rolling swell from the Atlantic " flings 
 to shore its mustered force " during a gale from the 
 south-west. It is well worth while to clamber down to 
 the beach, when the tide is out, to survey from below 
 the stern and swarthy majesty of these tremendous 
 bulwarks of the shore. The experiment, however, is 
 not recommended to any but those whose heads are 
 proof against dizziness; for should you, gentle " tourist,' 8 
 unseasonably turn giddy during the descent, there will 
 exist the strongest probability of your alighting in 
 
15 
 
 infinitely less than no time flat upon the crown of your 
 head, or rather, that of your hat, upon the beach ; in 
 which event, two misfortunes will ensue ; first, the 
 faultless symmetry of that exquisitely-formed " super- 
 fine Paris nap " will be (should it not be one of the 
 collapsible kind) irretrievably lost to society; and, 
 secondly, your friends will ruin themselves in fruitless 
 advertisements of " Augustus Marmaduke Plantagenet 
 Smith is implored to return to his agonized family," 
 while you are forming the subject matter of a cold 
 collation to a select party of prawns upon the beach. 
 
 At a turn in the road, some miles to the north of the 
 Moher Cliffs, the isles of Arran, backed by the Conne- 
 mara mountains, become visible, and the coast scenery 
 grows very striking. A sharp scud of rain afforded 
 me an opportunity of inspecting one of the cabins in 
 this, the wildest part of Ireland, under the pretence 
 of asking for shelter. The master of the house was 
 out in his canoe, but his wife and sons shewed every 
 
possible sign of welcome, and as they spoke no English, 
 extracted a youth from the recesses of a pile of nets, 
 to interpret. The eldest son, a fine young fellow of 
 about eighteen, boasted only a shirt, apparently formed 
 of a portion of an old sail, and affording very limited 
 accommodation to his person, hardly down to his knees. 
 The poor people offered all the provisions they had, 
 consisting of some bits of dried fish, whose appearance 
 was not at all calculated to whet the appetite. When 
 the storm ceased I took my leave, and dropped a 
 sixpence into a mug, to the great dissatisfaction of the 
 hostess, who intimated that they were very glad to see 
 me, and did not wish for any leturn. I explained 
 through our interpreter that the small present was not 
 intended as a recompense for their kindness, but was 
 given in compliance with a sort of superstitious custom 
 we had in England of wishing good luck to a house — a 
 flat but amiable fib, and pardonable if not commendable 
 under the circumstances. A solemn conclave was 
 
17 
 
 then held, and the great financial question of the 
 propriety of keeping the fortune was debated in Irish 
 in a sort of family "committee of the whole house" 
 with great earnestness, which resulted eventually in 
 the return of the miserable battered sixpence in set 
 diplomatic form, with many expressions of gratitude 
 for the intended liberality. Finding me, however, 
 inexorable on the subject, they were at length persuaded 
 to keep it, and manifested such unqualified rapture 
 over their treasure, that I heartily regretted the present 
 had been so shabby. The small interpreter was 
 directed by his mother to inquire my address, in 
 order that they might send an indefinite amount of 
 lobsters in some acknowledgement of their debt. 
 Not content with heaping every imaginable blessing 
 on my undeserving head in the cabin, they all came 
 out into the road, and continued to shoot valedic- 
 tory vollies of blessings at me from behind, as I pro- 
 ceeded on my journey. Nor was this all, for after walk- 
 
18 
 
 ing about half a mile, I heard a pattering of small feet 
 behind, and was overtaken by the duodecimo interpreter 
 in a luminous state of perspiration from the rate at which 
 he had run, and very gaspy and inarticulate from the 
 same cause. He was the bearer of a present of two 
 intensely scarlet fish, which must, to all appearance, 
 have strayed from the Red Sea. Such objects certainly 
 were never seen in the British Museum, much less in 
 Mr. Grove's shop, nor are they represented in any 
 work on natural history with which I am acquainted. 
 Cuvier would probably describe a being of this class as 
 " ignicolor rubicundissimus ; " I should be disposed to 
 adopt the definition of " a dreadful fact in icthyology, 
 probably unique. " The blood-red liquids in the big 
 bottles which make quite a conflagation in the windows 
 of chemists' shops when the gas is lighted would have 
 seemed the proper element for these glowing marvels 
 of the deep. Any one who may happen to have been 
 a visitant of Bath some twenty years since will be 
 
19 
 
 reminded of a spectacle then frequently to be witnessed 
 in that curious vivarium of comic old ladies. Lady 
 L. G. was resolutely determined to baffle the attacks of 
 time upon the attractions of her person, so, as his 
 effacing fingers swept the lines where, as she fondly 
 hoped, beauty still lingered, she maintained an adventi- 
 tious bloom of complexion by the liberal application of 
 rouge. Time however continued to make his ruthless 
 inroads on her mental as well as bodily condition, the 
 consequence of which was that our friend tumbling 
 occasionally into a sort of intellectual coma, plastered, 
 during a fit of mental abstraction, one cheek with a 
 multiplied series of strata or layers of pink powder, 
 thus working it up into a startling state of florid 
 radiancy, while the other portion of her physiognomy 
 remained in its dreary, dry, and weazened sterility ; a 
 mistake analogous to that of cockney sportsmen who 
 have a dangerous weakness for ramming three quarters 
 of a pound of powder, with wadding and shot in 
 
 c 2 
 
20 
 
 proportion, into one of the spouts of a double-barrelled 
 gun, and charging the other with nothing whatever, so 
 that they and their friends are only saved from 
 destruction through the happy fatality that our 
 sportsman in such cases always happens to omit the 
 cap, or else marks down his game with deadly accuracy 
 with the empty tube. This is a digression, but the 
 fish reminded us so vividly of Lady L** and the pink 
 halo which floated round one of her ears when an 
 undue concentration of juvenility on one side of her 
 face had occurred, that I was obliged to stop our walk 
 to draw a small vignette of her. But to return to the 
 fish; they were too big to hang on one's watchchain as 
 odd little charms, and it must have been indeed a 
 person of a desperately bold and reckless temperament 
 who could have contemplated such objects with any 
 views of their adaptation to human sustenance. 
 
 Though persuaded to retain the fish for home con- 
 sumption, nothing could dissuade the small boy from 
 
21 
 
 constituting himself guide along the road. He seemed 
 to think it perfectly impossible for any one to find the 
 way through a strange country, and he looked upon a 
 pocket map of Ireland with utter and infinite mystifi- 
 cation, considering it as one of the highest developments 
 of science, to be regarded with admiration not unmingled 
 with awe. We soon arrived at a city (of imposing 
 grandeur for that part of the world) consisting of a neat 
 little white house, three or four huts, and a pigstye or 
 so. The city, the guide said, was called Doolin, and the 
 grand house belonged to Major Macnamara. "Shure 
 and did ye niver hear of Major Macnamara and Doo- 
 lin!" "Is the Major at home, and will he give us a 
 'taty for luncheon?" "Ah! faith now, he's gone to 
 Dublin to the Parliament." It is impossible to assert 
 that the good people of the West of Ireland are frantic 
 for " repale," as some of the agitators would have 
 us believe, since the news of the Union has not yet 
 reached them ! 
 
22 
 
 My companion evinced an animated interest in the 
 investigation of the habits of that unknown animal, an 
 Englishman, and kept up a rapid fire of questions as to 
 what we ate and drank, and what our houses were like. 
 "Smoke baccy, Sir?" " Yes." " Shure now I daresay 
 you do." This he evidently considered as the very 
 acme and climax of refined and luxurious enjoyment. 
 
 Nothing could induce our small friend to turn home- 
 wards, though he had already come some miles, and the 
 exceeding brevity of his legs rendered rapid locomotion 
 an arduous exercise. The day, however, was getting 
 on, and the attainment of Galway by nightfall fading 
 into very dim perspective, so it was quite necessary to 
 commence progression at the business-like pace of up- 
 wards of five miles an hour. The small satellite, how- 
 ever, not yielding to expostulation on the question of 
 turning back, a resort to stratagem became necessary, so 
 as we passed a cabin where certain apples were displayed 
 in the window for sale, I got him to come in, and 
 
23 
 
 having purchased the whole stock for a few halfpence, 
 and stuffed them into his cap, intimated to the mistress 
 of the house that she was to consider him as her 
 prisoner, and that he was by no means to be released 
 from incarceration for some time, to prevent the 
 possibility of his again overtaking me. The woman 
 executed her commission faithfully, so the small boy 
 was detained, to fall, it is to be feared, on his way 
 home, a victim to cholera, if he attempted to consume 
 his indigestible apples, or, if he should recklessly sup 
 on his fiery fish, to perish by internal combustion. 
 
 The coast along the north-west corner of Clare is a 
 stony wilderness, dotted at intervals with the ruins of an- 
 cient castles, and with the curious old pillar-like towers 
 which are said to have been temples to the sun. The 
 dilapidated remains of deserted cabins, originally 
 formed of loose stones piled up, were plentiful ; but for 
 many weary miles there was nothing in the shape of a 
 tenanted human habitation, so that the lights of the 
 
24 
 
 town of Galway, coming suddenly into view at a turn 
 in the road, were a cheerful spectacle. Nearing a small 
 town, with the violently Irish name of Ballyvaghane, I 
 was joined by a man, who said he had been bailiff to 
 the Duke of Buckingham before his grace's estates 
 in this part of the world had been sold up. He accom- 
 panied me as far as the town. This bringing you on 
 your road by walking with you is a very common atten- 
 tion paid to travellers in this part of the world. My 
 friend assured me that the sailors of Ballyvaghane 
 would be most glad to take me across to Galway for six- 
 pence, which would not have been a dear bargain, seeing 
 that the distance was nine Irish miles (i.e. something 
 between eleven and fifteen English) ; for an Irish mile, 
 whatever it may be described to be in printed tables, 
 is as vague and undefined a measure as a German 
 stund, which is estimated with reference to various 
 combined considerations, embracing the state of the 
 roads, the gradients of the hills, the progressive capa- 
 
25 
 
 bilities of the calculator's legs, or those of his horse's, 
 the distance to be traversed (as learnt from observations 
 of the number of pipes involved in its completion), 
 the state of the driver's temper, the squeezibility of 
 his fare's purse, etc., etc. In addition to the length of 
 the passage, the night had just come on very dark, and 
 the wind had risen to what the sailors call " a double 
 gale," so that though I wished to get on to Gal way 
 and rejoin my luggage, (the whole stock actually with 
 me consisting only of a hard little green apple, re- 
 served from those given to the small boy), the probabi- 
 lities of being starved or frozen to death while beating 
 about in the bay of Galway, seemed very great. When 
 told that the poor fishermen would have been delighted 
 to take me across the bay for sixpence, though it would 
 have required quite a large cutter, with at least two or 
 three men to manage it, remembering also what infi- 
 nite pleasure the sixpence had given to the poor family 
 in the morning, it made one reflect on the iniquity of 
 
26 
 
 giving a guinea or more for a stall for the Huguenots, 
 when the money otherwise expended might be the 
 means of conferring absolutely endless quantities of 
 happiness on a great number of one's fellow- creatures. 
 Ballyvaghane boasted a car, which was speedily put in 
 requisition. Its personal appearance did not inspire much 
 confidence, as it was a decidedly rough and rickety insti- 
 tution, and appeared to have certain constitutional 
 idiosyncracies of a paralytic tendency, which were 
 anything but encouraging (the quadruped in the 
 shafts we'll talk about presently); and the driver 
 was a regular wild-looking "Galway boy." We 
 started without any particular eclat to speak of, for 
 the thing in the shafts (a quadruped so indescribable 
 that it can only be designated as "a gloomy fact") 
 evinced a clear repugnance to the expedition, and we 
 were nearly driven to the extremity of applying a hot 
 poker cm derriere as a persuader. However, it thought 
 proper at last to move, and advanced (we cannot say 
 
27 
 
 trotted or walked, or, by any means, cantered) down 
 the street by a peculiar jerky process of progression 
 (a movement much more staccato than andante) like 
 what horsedealers call " going very fumbling." The 
 charioteer, on being applied to for an explanation, 
 said, " Faith, Sir, I turned her out in the field for an 
 hour or two, and she's all full o' green grass." Our 
 road lay over the bleakest and stoniest of bare 
 hills ; it came on very dark, with occasional storms 
 of rain, and a piercing north-east wind blew, like what 
 Shelley (I think) somewhere or other describes as 
 
 "A northerly whirlwind roaming about 
 Like a wolf that has smelt a dead child out." 
 
 The driver appeared to find it coolish, though im- 
 mersed up to the eyes in comforters and great coats r 
 while I, wretched being, was in the lightest walking- 
 costume, and had no exterior wrap, and what was worse, 
 
28 
 
 was destitute of interior fortification against cold. At the 
 end of an hour or so, our wretched quadruped, having 
 given several premonitory symptoms of its intention in 
 that respect, stopped definitively, and was totally 
 inexorable under expostulation and chastisement as to 
 a change of its views on the subject. So it seemed 
 as if it was to be a case of " Mr. Erie's carriage stops 
 the way," for ever afterwards. I therefore remarked 
 to the driver, "Far be it from me to cause your mare a 
 dyspepsia by pressing her forward after her plethora of 
 grass, but allow me to remark, in a purely general 
 manner, and without suggesting the disturbance of 
 whatever arrangements she may consider to be most 
 desirable with reference to her private convenience, 
 that if we stop here, I shall certainly be frozen to death 
 in a very short time, and then you will inevitably lose 
 your fare; " which dry, strictly matter-of-fact, and prac- 
 tical view of the subject appeared to strike him in a 
 forcible light ; for after a lavish expenditure of strong 
 
29 
 
 adjuration, he effected a move. It seemed to be my 
 doom to experience every variety of disaster from the 
 perversity of horses ; for only a month or two before, 
 I had nearly fallen a victim to the vagaries of a runa- 
 way horse at Oxford (beware of University hacks in 
 the long vacation ! ) and after having been nearly com- 
 pelled to swallow a set of front teeth, through the 
 kicking of that odious quadruped, was detained some 
 time in fishing up the mingled broken pieces of a 
 friend and gig from a muddy ditch. We arrived at 
 last at Kinvarra, as cold and wet as jelly fishes, and so 
 dissolved and limp that we might advantageously have 
 been hung over the back of a chair to dry. The hotel 
 at Kinvarra aspireth not to the dignity of a sign: it is, 
 in fact, a small grocer's shop, in a very limited sphere of 
 commercial action, whose proprietor takes in lodgers. 
 It had been described to me as " Faith, an 'tis a very 
 excellent hotel ; maybe y'ell get some mate there ! " a 
 recommendation which, unfortunately, was not borne 
 
30 
 
 out by actual experience, in respect of the meat. The 
 landlord, however, was very hospitable ; he lighted a 
 fire in a sort of 12mo. whitewashed bin or pew behind 
 the shop, called the parlour, and came in with his 
 little girl to talk to me. I took the earliest opportunity 
 which politeness allowed, of hinting at tea and whiskey, 
 so mine host went off to see about it, leaving the small 
 Miss Leonard, such was her name, to assuage the pangs 
 of hunger by her society. She volunteered to come and 
 sit on my knee in the most engaging manner, but I 
 blush to relate that such was the rampant state of my 
 appetite, as to make me feel horribly inclined to make 
 what the author of " A Voyage to the Mauritius and 
 Back " calls " a New Zealand acquaintance " with her; 
 which he explains by the following anecdote : 
 
 " You knew Smith ? " asked a polite settler of a 
 friendly chief. 
 
 " O yes, plenty well, I ate him ! " 
 
 At last tea and whiskey came, and Miss Leonard with 
 
31 
 
 drew to bed. I shortly followed, having ordered a car to 
 go on to Gal way at 4.30 next morning. What my bedroom 
 was like I am not prepared to state : nor how I got into 
 bed, my recollections, and those very dim and sleepy, 
 being confined to an appearance next morning, be- 
 fore daylight, of Mr. Leonard with a lantern, very 
 unshorn and unkempt, and slightly suggestive of Guy 
 Fawkes, the pursuit of a toilet under difficulties, in 
 which the little green apple did not prove a valuable 
 auxiliary, and a sort of somnambulatory breakfast upon 
 a small block of seed cake, and cold whiskey and 
 water, and an all but bare bit of mutton bone, reminding 
 one forcibly of the melancholy anatomical displays pre- 
 sented by certain Bath spinsters 1 bare arms. When the 
 car came round, Mr. Leonard himself mounted as driver, 
 and it then transpired that the charioteer of the night 
 before had arrived (notwithstanding the depth to which 
 he was immersed in wrappers) nearly dead with cold ; 
 and, the first instant that Leonard's back was turned, 
 
32 
 
 he rushed to a cupboard where he knew the whiskey 
 was kept, and rinding a bottle there about three parts 
 full, drank it off straightway, and consequently was 
 shortly afterwards found flat on his back on the floor, 
 with his head pensively reclining on one side in a coal 
 scuttle, and his face wholly divested of any intellectual 
 expression whatever ; in a state, in short, of absolute 
 coma, from which he had not as yet been resuscitated. 
 We arrived at Galway without accident, after a long 
 drive made pleasantly short by Mr. Leonard's conver- 
 sation and stories. He deposited me at Killroy's 
 hotel, where, having in the course of a five hours' 
 drive through the sharp morning air, sufficiently for- 
 gotten the spinster's arm, I proceeded to consider the 
 expediency of making a second breakfast. After a 
 protracted ringing at the bell, the dirtiest of all con- 
 ceivable waiters appeared, with a pipe, terminated by a 
 bowl of sufficient magnitude to be regarded as a young 
 chimney, dangling from one corner of his mouth, and 
 
33 
 
 received the expression of my desire for tea, etc., with 
 calm and complacent nonchalance, as a general obser- 
 vation on the part of a stranger, wholly unconnected 
 with any possible influence on his existing private 
 arrangements with respect to pipes, and it was not till 
 after the application of a peremptory admonition that he 
 was induced to manifest any interest in the matter. 
 On observing the state of his hands, on which a strong 
 crop of mustard and cress might have been raised, one 
 couldn't help feeling rather disposed to offer a friendly 
 suggestion that a course of energetic ablution would 
 be attended with much enhancement of his personal 
 attractiveness, and fraught with incalculable advantage 
 to the general public. 
 
 My luggage having arrived, I was shown into a bed- 
 room for the purpose of making a more elaborate 
 toilet than had been possible through the instrumen- 
 tality of the hard little green apple at Kinvarra, and 
 felt devoutly thankful to the Fates, on beholding the 
 
34 
 
 covering of the bed, that my original intention of 
 arriving at the hotel Killroy on the previous evening 
 had been frustrated. The mere contemplation of the 
 hatefully dirty and animated state of the counterpane, 
 was enough to create a sort of admonitory feeling of 
 cutaneous irritation. In bad inns, like the hotel Kill- 
 roy, the " good entertainment for man and beast " 
 which they profess to afford, is too frequently confined 
 exclusively to beasts already on the premises. There- 
 fore, gentle tourist, should you find yourself at Gal way, 
 eschew the hotel Killroy, and take, as we did, the 
 earliest train to Dublin. 
 
THE CHARITABLE TRUSTS AMENDMENT 
 ACT, 1855. 
 
 FURTHER AMENDMENTS AND OBSERVATIONS 
 
 BY A GREAT FOOL. 
 
 (from "The Charity Commission Warbler.") 
 
 I. 
 
 The preamble should run " Whereas every provision 
 Of the Charity Trusts Act exciteth derision, 
 
 Making law what was never intended ; 
 And the sages who framed said ridiculous Act 
 Were, like those who passed it, undoubtedly cracked, 
 
 And it therefore requires to be mended. 
 
 d 2 
 
36 
 
 " And whereas the result of the impudent rout 
 To learn what the vigorous Board is about, 
 
 Has elicited ' Nothing whatever ! ' 
 And knavish Trustees vote it capital fun, 
 And the Times says that naught but the public is ' done' 
 
 By the Board so surprisingly clever. 
 
 in. 
 
 " And whereas the ' Knights-errant ' (the title is right) 
 Has thought it becoming to swear black is white 
 
 (A theory quickly demolished), 
 Appending a no less astounding assertion 
 Intended, of course, for the public diversion, 
 
 Be the said knight henceforward abolished. 
 
 VI. 
 
 " And whereas Mr. Good, and still more Mr. Vane, 
 Both excellent officers, get, it is plain, 
 
 * Mr. Knight, M.P. for West Worcestershire. 
 
37 
 
 But inadequate remuneration ; 
 Therefore be it enacted they each pocket clear 
 The additional sum of a thousand a year, 
 
 Quite due to their merit and station." 
 
 v. 
 
 We fear we are getting a little bit blind, 
 
 For the clause above quoted we never could find, 
 
 Though of course it must somewhere be in ; 
 Since, otherwise, treatment so shabby and chary 
 Of our able chief clerk and polite secre-tary, 
 
 Would be quite a national sin. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Each Commissioner now is empowered to squeeze 
 Information from parties who act as Trustees ; 
 
 And if any bold fellow shall answer, " I 
 Will see you hung first," or, " I'm bless'd if I do," 
 Such cantankerous conduct he quickly will rue, 
 
 Referred for correction to Chancery. 
 
38 
 
 VII. 
 
 And here, we'll observe, it's a very bad job, 
 Should " the Bermondsey bruiser," or " Brummagem 
 snob," 
 
 Your head " into Chancery " get; 
 For since you're no longer to cover your scalp able, 
 He pounds it at leisure to powder impalpable ; 
 
 But " the Court " is more merciless yet ! 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Whatever you do then, " keep clear of the law ! " 
 Trust rather your head to that old lion's jaw 
 
 He may overlook the intrusion : 
 The feat was performed by the keeper, until 
 Mr. Lion, by gulping his head like a pill, 
 
 Brought the show to a hasty conclusion. 
 
 IX. 
 
 But this is digressing. A subsequent section 
 Continues to charity funds the protection 
 
39 
 
 Conferred in the year '53 ; 
 A proper return and account must be sent 
 Of moneys received, due and owing, and spent, 
 
 So that now any cunning Trustee, 
 
 x. 
 
 Who, instead of employing the funds in his hands 
 To meeting his cestui-que-trusts' just demands, 
 
 Attempts their improper conversion 
 To giving his wife or his daughters a treat, 
 Or paying for grocery, candles, or meat, 
 
 Will be subject to animadversion. 
 
 XI. 
 
 The College of William of Wykeham's foundation, 
 And^Henry the Sixth's, from the Act's operation 
 
 We observe with amaze are excepted ; 
 So the Provost who looked very dismally blue, 
 And the Warden, long kept in a deuce of a stew, 
 
 Will chuckle, not being detected. 
 
40 
 
 XII. 
 
 We find as is usual that singular clause, 
 Which, viewed as a joke, may elicit applause, 
 
 And is christened the " interpretation :" 
 The Act's misty language conjecture defies 
 As to meaning, so this little section supplies 
 
 The rules for its elucidation. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 We do not intend to peruse it we own, 
 For a family likeness and sameness of tone 
 
 Such clauses still characterises ; 
 Thus " Black " shall herein be accounted as " white," 
 And "wrong" shall be construed and held to mean 
 "right," 
 
 (Which ignorant persons surprises). 
 
 XIV. 
 
 " One and one shall make ten," " two and two shall be six," 
 (Arithmetic borrowed from conjurors' tricks) 
 
41 
 
 " True as " false " be accounted and taken ; 
 The affirmative shall for the negative stand, 
 And"all"shall mean "none,"" without" signify"and," 
 
 And " correct " be translated " mistaken." 
 
 xv. 
 
 Whatever the words, in short, purport to say, 
 Should, we find, be interpreted quite 'tother way ; 
 
 Such cruel perplexities stop one : 
 And so, as a little reward, at the end, 
 To aid perseverance, we mean to append 
 
 The following clause for adoption. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 " The man who in this, or indeed any, Act, 
 (One cannot conceive such a genius a fact) 
 
 Can spy any meaning whatever, 
 Is a guesser much 'cuter than iEdipus (he 
 Who took the shine out of the Sphinx), and shall be 
 
 Accounted and deemed to be clever." 
 
42 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Now since people ask what the conduct should be 
 To merit the praise of " A model Trustee," 
 
 The Act should give this definition : 
 " The Board never bother with foolish ' suggestions, 9 
 Voluminous ' statements,' or troublesome questions, 
 
 Or wearisome ' claims for partition.' 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 " The returns of accounts which are due in each year 
 Cook as much as you like, only write 'em out clear, 
 
 And see to their timely transmission ; 
 Send with them some game, or some such little present. 
 To render the Board, and your intercourse, pleasant, 
 
 And to aid and support the Commission." 
 
THE CHARITY COMMISSION ALPHABET. 
 
 DEDICATED TO THAT JOCULAR GENTLEMAN THE CHIEF COMMISSIONER, 
 
 A is the Act setting up the Commission, 
 
 Expounded in Finlason's useful edition. 
 
 B is the Board who the Charities rout, 
 
 And the Beer used to moisten their dull labour's 
 
 drought. 
 C represents our most excellent Chief, 
 Who doubtless must find it a welcome relief 
 The conveyancing pen to lay up on the shelf; 
 We hear his appointment much praised — by himself. 
 
44 
 
 D are our " Drafts." N.B. Not a game. 
 
 E Mr. Erie, number two of that name. 
 
 F that respectable man, Mr. Fry. 
 
 G is our goose of a poet — that's I. 
 
 H stands for Hill, Heath, Henry, and Hare ; 
 
 I the inspectors, angelical pair ! 
 
 J worthy old Joyce, and it also will fit 
 
 Mr. Jones the Commissioner. K we omit. 
 
 L the two Lees, the lean and the stout ; 
 
 M are the Messengers darting about. 
 
 N is nought. O the Oysters for luncheon we buy. 
 
 P sober Price, in our estimate " high.' 1 
 
 Q — what is Q ? Echo answers " Ah, what ? " 
 
 R the Reports so tremendously fat. 
 
 S are our Stipends, refreshing, though small ; 
 
 T is The Times which abuses us all. 
 
 U and V, quite as often united as twain, 
 
 Distinguish our excellent friend H. M. Vane. 
 
 The scene of our labours commences with W ; 
 
45 
 
 To say what X designates sorely would trouble you. 
 Y ; let me see ; gentle Reader, that's You ; 
 Z indicates nothing I know of. Adieu ! 
 
FROM " THE CUCKFIELD POLITE 
 INTELLIGENCER." 
 
 We have much pleasure in recording the brilliant 
 success which attended a meeting of the United Sussex 
 Archers, held in the beautiful grounds of Warden 
 Sergison, Esq., of Cuckfield Place, on Tuesday last, 
 August the 30th. The picturesque character of the 
 scene was enhanced by the syrenlike attractions of the 
 Miss E — s, and embellished by the graceful presence 
 of their amiable mother. Refreshments were spread 
 at five o'clock in spacious tents, where the festive 
 board was enlivened by the beaming smiles of the fair 
 party we have mentioned, whose lustre shed a soft 
 
47 
 
 halo around a magnificent display of cold pigeon 
 pie, and down an extended avenue of boiled legs 
 of lamb. The celebrated marksman Mr. Horatio 
 Plantagenet Alexander Gubbins Smith was not so 
 successful as usual, in consequence of his bow being 
 too strong for him, so that his performances were not 
 striking, at least not of targets. We overheard a 
 gentleman who had been watching his proceedings for 
 some little time, inquire with apparent innocence 
 "Which target he was shooting at?" a question which, 
 if intended to partake of pleasantry, conveyed a some- 
 what harsh inuendo on the skill of the party addressed. 
 An accident nearly occurred to ourselves from a gentle- 
 man passing across the path of our editorial arrow 
 just as we were about to launch that projectile from the 
 string, so that he was within an ace of receiving it in 
 the small of his back. We could not help thinking 
 that his appearance, so perforated, would have been 
 forcibly suggestive of the model swains which adorn 
 
48 
 
 the corners of valentines. Our readers are doubtless 
 acquainted with the figures to which we allude ; gentle- 
 men profusely garnished with ambrosial whiskers and 
 clustering hair, and elaborately got up to the very acme 
 of fashion; that is to say, in unimpeachably glossy 
 hats, very loud waistcoats, coats of imperceptible waists, 
 trousers of violent patterns, very noisy neckcloths, 
 acutely-poin ted boots, and straps so tight as to render 
 the entertainment of any wild projects of locomotion a 
 chimerical absurdity. Smiling blandly, however, over 
 the feathers of an immense dart which projects from 
 their bosoms at ladies in the opposite corner of the 
 sheets, with an expression of tender interest. Meanwhile 
 a cannibalo-culinary operation progresses in the centre 
 of the scene on two unutterably red human hearts of 
 the conventional form of that organ, poised miraculously 
 on their tips, on a gas stove in the foreground. We 
 speak advisedly as to the fact of the stove being a gas 
 stove, since these mysteries of Cupid's cuisine are 
 
49 
 
 always represented as being conducted on two pink 
 flames, emanating from no perceptible fuel. A member 
 of the Leamington Club was in attendance, and 
 distinguished himself highly by his remarkable dress. 
 He was attired completely in green, inspiring the 
 beholder with the conviction that he must have been 
 addicted to Vegetarianism, and that in course of time 
 the vegetable element had so pervaded his system as 
 to render even his coat and trousers of a cabbagey hue. 
 We must own to having been possessed with a strong 
 inclination to plant or graft him to ascertain whether 
 anything so green could possibly fail to grow. We 
 should have tried the experiment with little apprehen- 
 sion of an adverse result. The archery, we understand, 
 was followed by a ball, but our correspondent having 
 unfortunately fallen asleep after the very large tea 
 which his exertions of the afternoon involved, we can 
 only state the general report that the party was 
 brilliantly successful ; and that Miss J — e E.*s achieve- 
 
50 
 
 merits on her "light bombastic toe" (as Mrs. Malaprop 
 called it) eclipsed all her previous exploits on that illus- 
 trious member ! We were concerned to hear of its 
 being swelled next morning ; the tumefaction, however, 
 soon yielded to local applications prescribed by its 
 medical man, and eventually subsided. 
 
CCELEBS IN DIFFICULTIES. 
 
 Young Ccolebs was a bachelor, a lawyer by profession, 
 Aged — well never mind his age, he'd reached that of 
 
 discretion, 
 And being well set up in life, he thought he'd better 
 
 try 
 To form, if that were possible, a matrimonial tie ; 
 And so (since we're his bosom friend) he came to us 
 
 to choose 
 Some very eligible neck o'er which to slip the noose, 
 
 e 2 
 
52 
 
 So down we sat to meditate ; we did not scratch our 
 
 head. 
 But, more politely, bit our lip until it nearly bled 
 For not a few fair dames we knew, and all extiemely 
 
 nice, 
 Bat yet could not exactly hit the article precise. 
 
 Our thoughts, of course, first turned to you, our 
 
 most especial friend 
 So gentle, kind, and pretty too, but there our praise 
 
 must end ; 
 Might we enquire without offence, How can you, dear 
 
 Miss Gay, 
 In reading light and silly trash pass all your time away ? 
 With talents such as you can boast, will nothing else 
 
 amuse 
 But gossip weak and frivolous, and fashionable news ? 
 Must we confess we sometimes long, e'en in your sweet 
 
 society, 
 
53 
 
 To talk a little plain dull sense, if only for variety ? 
 
 An appetite for wholesome food one cannot always stifle, 
 
 I\ T or feed one's thoughts with nothing else but syllabub 
 and trifle : 
 
 However, say what critics may, no Ccelebs " on pro- 
 motion " 
 
 Could learn that you had changed your name without 
 some slight emotion. 
 
 In you, Miss Nettlebed, we turn to quite another 
 
 thing, 
 Who, like your pungent prototype, art gifted with a 
 
 sting. 
 Your various accomplishments, your liveliness and wit, 
 And all your power to fascinate, we readily admit. 
 A hedgehog, viewed abstractedly, may be a pleasant 
 
 fellow, 
 Yet probably but few would choose to share such 
 
 partner's pillow, 
 
54 
 
 To clasp him to your " glowing breast" and feel the 
 
 cruel pricks 
 With unprovoked hostility that tender breast transfix. 
 Like Damocles his mate will run the risk at every 
 
 juncture 
 Of getting, unexpectedly, a most distressing puncture - 
 "A little tart" will often prove a dangerous comestible, 
 Being such, you disagree with us, we vote you indi- 
 gestible. 
 
 Quite different is the fault we have to find with you, 
 
 Miss Prood, 
 You'll stare when told your crime consists in being 
 
 much too good. 
 On every careless thought and look you sternly put a 
 
 stopper, 
 And frown like night at every word that's not intensely 
 
 proper. 
 
55 
 
 But much do we enjoy a joke, and (such is our im- 
 piety!) 
 
 Don't relish one a bit the less that smacks of impro- 
 priety. 
 
 And therefore though your excellence may challenge 
 admiration, 
 
 We must confess it far beyond our taste or approbation. 
 
 What shall we say of her in whom the various graces 
 
 meet, 
 But with the flowers there springs alas ! that odious 
 
 weed, conceit ? 
 You recollect the words, of course, about the seven ages, 
 Where Shakespeare undertakes to prove that " all the 
 
 world a stage is, 
 And all the men," etcetera ; but our proud cynic's rule 
 Is " all the world's a lunatic, and everyone a fool." 
 But how is this Miss Juvenal; why that indignant 
 
 frown ? 
 
56 
 
 Does the cap fit ? d'ye recognize the portrait as your 
 
 own ? 
 Then ponder this — a saucy miss who wiser people snubs 
 Is not esteemed a queen of hearts, although %4 a Quean 
 
 of Clubs." 
 
 An only daughter, like Miss Dott, we wisely must 
 
 eschew, 
 For he who gains the chick will have to wed the old 
 
 birds too. 
 Go where he will, this side the grave, they'll always 
 
 come to stay, 
 And soon return, if ever once they chance to go away. 
 
 One can't help loving you Miss May, whose soft 
 
 enticing face 
 If once beheld would " cure sore eyes " (to use a vulgar 
 
 phrase), 
 If personal attractiveness were all that man required, 
 
57 
 
 Your eminence in that respect " leaves nought to be 
 
 desired." 
 But such a guide through life's dark maze might hardly 
 
 prove effectual, 
 A pretty little waxen doll, and just as intellectual. 
 
 46 Stay ! that will do ! " here Ccelebs cried, " a truce 
 to condemnation, 
 
 You seem to catalogue your friends for mere vitupera- 
 tion ; 
 
 To every one you name in turn you start some strange 
 objection, 
 
 Demolishing each peg on which I hoped to hang affec- 
 tion ; 
 
 Cannot a single one, forsooth, of all the charming dears 
 
 Escape your impudent remarks and vile illnatured 
 sneers ?" 
 
 4, Now pray be calm and sensible," we said, " my 
 worthy fellow, 
 
58 
 
 We wish to save you from the fate which bothered 
 
 poor Othello, 
 ' Tis better to consider well, and bear awhile to tarry, 
 Than cry, as Shakespeare says he did, ' What a goose 
 
 I was to marry ! '* 
 Yet such delay, you shall not say, was caused by our 
 
 advice, 
 We've made a hit your case to fit with something extra 
 
 nice. 
 We might be jealous, had not our approach to that 
 
 divinity 
 (With honest pride we state the fact), been barred 
 
 by consanguinity. 
 Miss Jessie E. is nobly born, and adds to that a host 
 Of elegant accomplishments which no one else can boast, 
 Endued with charms no poet's pen, or painter's brush, 
 
 could paint ; 
 
 * We do not recollect at this moment the precise passage in 
 which the words referred to occur. 
 
59 
 
 The wit of Hood, the depth of Locke, the temper of a 
 
 saint ; 
 Whole tribes and troops of nice young men have tried 
 
 without success 
 To win her hand, yet still your suit she possibly may 
 
 bless ; 
 We wish you heartily good luck, and when youVe 
 
 fixed the day, 
 We'll come and help to cut the cake, or give the bride 
 
 away." 
 
A party of ladies and gentlemen frequenting the 
 Marylebone Gardens having established a periodical 
 publication under the title of " A Bouquet from Mary- 
 lebone Gardens," the promenaders in the Chester 
 Terrace Garden conceived the notion of setting up a 
 similar subscription magazine, the contributors to which 
 were to write under the names of different vegetables, 
 as those who sent their effusions to the " Bouquet " 
 did so under the names of various Jiowers. 
 
 Model Circular. — ''Vegetable Marrow" presents 
 
 its compliments to Miss and requests that she 
 
 and her family will join a society of ladies and gentle- 
 men who frequent the Chester Terrace Garden, in 
 
61 
 
 establishing a periodical magazine, the contributors to 
 
 assume the names of different vegetables, and the 
 
 publication to be called " The Nursery Garden." The 
 
 prospectus of the first number is enclosed herewith as 
 
 a specimen. 
 
 Titles of the articles and the contributors thereof : — 
 
 Sonnet — k4 Mine own my native land," Turnip radish. 
 
 Historical Essay — " L'assassinat des haricots," 
 
 French bean. 
 
 Dirge— 44 The tear I forced to flow,*' . . . Onion, 
 
 Descriptive Piece— " Sweet Auburn (not Gold- 
 smith's,) .... Carrots. 
 
 Autobiography — " Bubble and Squeak," Cabbage. 
 
 Travels — (Miscellanea from Ireland) or " Irish Stew," 
 
 Young Potaioe. 
 
 Ode — " To my dear ducky," .... Green pea. 
 
 Song — To the air of " Mine own blue bell my pretty 
 blue bell," — ■" My own boiled leg my pretty boiled 
 leg," Turnip. 
 
62 
 
 Theological — " On the consumption of salt fish in 
 Lent," Parsnip. 
 
 Moral Philosophy — " Spring-tide the age of 
 1 fools,' " • Gooseberry, 
 
A LEGEND OF ST. CLEMENT'S CAVES, 
 HASTINGS. 
 
 Note. — The author of the following poem (?) feels it 
 necessary for his own justification to state that the 
 account of its impromptu mode of manufacture is 
 substantially true. He also desires it to be understood 
 that he declines to be responsible for the escapades of 
 which Mr. Smith appears to have been guilty when a 
 very little boy, and that he regards with proper horror 
 the revolutionary sentiments upon a delicate subject 
 which that gentleman has the audacity to propound. 
 
 Mr. Smith related the story to us in the following 
 manner : — 
 
64 
 
 In the year '46, and the month of December 
 (What desperate tough things dates are to remember!) 
 By chance, or more likely, agreement, there strayed 
 A youth and a Miss from the Hastings Parade, 
 But the day most ill-naturedly proving a pelter 
 They sought, like iEneas and Dido, a shelter ; 
 Not in African cave, goddess-made for their case,* 
 But that of St. Clement, you all know the place. 
 Its many dark windings they busily rambled through, 
 Up divers impossible crevices scrambled too ; 
 Then sang a duet, which the echoes repeating, 
 In jolly full chorus acknowledged the greeting, 
 And laughed, too, to such an alarming extent, 
 That people outside could'nt think what it meant. 
 They did'nt quite dance, but they rioted so, 
 'Twas said that the ghosts had a party below. 
 Old ladies supposed that an earthquake was brewing, 
 
 * See ^Eneid, iv. 
 
65 
 
 Or a pain in the bowels the cliff was undoing. 
 
 44 Shocking ! Shame ! " Shrieks Some Sour Stiff Self- 
 Satisfied Saint) 
 
 " No chaperon ! caves ! ! evening ! ! ! O catch me, I 
 faint!" 
 
 Mr. Smith to the rescue, knight-errant-like, came, 
 To snatch from the dragon a damsel's fair fame. 
 44 Dear Madam, had we been the couple instead, 
 I'd not have awaited your censure, but fled. 
 We can't all be painfully strict as you'd wish us, 
 Nor distant, cold, cautious, and always suspicious. 
 And how fatally tame, I may add, as you know, 
 Are folks everlastingly quite " comme il faut." 
 Learn too, thou stern foe to unfettered society, 
 4 Least ladylike people most preach of propriety ' 
 I'm sorry to limit your spleen to a frown, 
 But the names of the culprits shall never be known." 
 At length said the lady, " I never could guess 
 
66 
 
 What the origin was of this rocky recess ; 
 ' The smugglers ' they talk of, but if you ask me, 
 I should to that notion say 'fiddle de dee.' 
 But on this old cavern I often have mused before, 
 What on earth, think you, people can ever have used 
 it for? " 
 
 " Perhaps some ill-favoured old ogre," said he, 
 " In thraldom here kept a 4 fayre ladye ' like thee. 
 But think what a field for a novelist's history, 
 A suspicion of smugglers, a cave, and a mystery ! 
 A scene ready laid, with a heroine in it ! 
 One really feels almost obliged to begin it." 
 
 " Well then," she replied, " manufacture a story, 
 And strike a new light as improvisatore ; 
 Indeed I have heard you're a bit of a poet, 
 And this is a golden occasion to shew it." 
 
 " My wits are like summer-cascades, ' on half-pay ;" 
 But 'tis yours to command, and your slave's to obey. 
 Something serious ? " 
 
6*7 
 
 "Yes, something atrocious and frightful." 
 4 A murder? or ' something still worser?' " 
 
 " Delightful ! " 
 " A tale then of violence, blood, and remorse — 
 The smugglers you'd wish introduced? " 
 
 " Yes, of course." 
 "The metre?" 
 
 " that must be serio-comical, 
 And don't of strong adjectives be economical. 
 So do not consider, but try it impromptu, 
 And if you should stick I'll endeavour to prompt you." 
 " Then sit by me here, that the close contemplation 
 Of certain bright eyes may assist inspiration." 
 So saying, he looked round the cave for a notion, 
 But " took nothing at all (as they say) by his motion." 
 Considered his boots from the heel to the toe 
 In hopes that might help him, but found it "no go." 
 His ear with a similar object then pinching, 
 Much cruel self-torture he bore without flinching. 
 
 f 2 
 
G8 
 
 He scratched too (so say his detractors) his head. 
 But we'll hope he did nothing so sadly ill-bred. 
 Then squeezed up his fists till his knuckles go": white, 
 By such self-devotion the Muse to invite. 
 Devoutly he prayed her to come, but she wouldn't ; 
 She was sulky, or possibly busy, and couldn't. 
 Till a glance from the goddess who sat by his side 
 New wings to his featherless fancy supplied ; 
 Suggested a sketch of his history's plan, 
 And thus into jingle prosaic it ran. 
 
 Fair Hastings, from thy castled height 
 Thou show'st in truth a peerless sight 
 
 Of land and sea below ! 
 Here, stretch old ocean's waters blue 
 Far as the wandering eye can view 
 
 That restless ebb and flow : 
 While there, there shines a bright array 
 Of villas trim and gardens gay, 
 
69 
 
 And modest steeples rise. 
 On east and west by rocky steep 
 Protected from the winds' rough sweep, 
 And in the midst embosomed deep 
 
 The smiling city lies. 
 
 Good are her dames, and fair as good, 
 
 [lady blushes.] 
 Her sons their careful livelihood 
 
 Win labouring, scant and hard ; 
 But, " to Content, enough, is wealth," 
 And peace and happiness and health 
 
 Their honest toil reward. 
 
 Not such, fair Hastings, was thy face, 
 Far other was the lawless race 
 That once thy valley bore, 
 A sullen and ferocious brood 
 
70 
 
 Scarce tamer than the billows rude 
 That lashed their native shore. 
 
 'Mid such, by habit savage grown, 
 Religion's rites were all unknown, 
 
 Law's terrors all were vain : 
 Still ready toil and risk to bear, 
 And each bold enterprise to dare 
 
 So they might plunder gain. 
 
 Extending round in many a row 
 Of smoky hovels, dark and low, 
 The overhanging cliff below, 
 
 Their wood-built city stood. 
 No fisher there his meshes dried, 
 No fisher's wife her needle plied, 
 Each labouring anxious to provide 
 
 Their honest toil-earned food : 
 But in his den close-hid by day 
 
71 
 
 The bold and cunning smuggler lay, 
 
 And schemes for darkness planned : 
 
 Others, meanwhile, explored the coast 
 
 To plunder, should some vessel lost 
 
 'Mid the sharp rocks, and shoreward tossed, 
 Lie wrecked upon the strand. 
 
 " Fair Muse," said the Poet, "how like you the verse? 
 I'll bet you six bouquets you never heard worse. 
 The key that I sing in could scarcely be flatter, 
 But 'tis hardly less dismally dull than the matter/' 
 
 " I forgive it ; but now you must draw np the curtain, 
 The night must be stormy, the moonlight uncertain ; 
 The shrieking of ghosts the late traveller fright'ning ; 
 Then discover your hero in flashes of lightning, 
 With a knife, and a look very guilty indeed, 
 All armed to the teeth, and — etcetera — proceed." 
 
 Night's deepening shadows gloomily 
 Descended upon land and sea ; 
 
72 
 
 The moon was up, but oft o'ercast 
 By storm-scuds thickly hurrying past, 
 Seeming as though with toil to force 
 Against opposing crowds her course. 
 Sometimes half-hid, her doubtful rays 
 Scarce struggle through the uncertain haze ; 
 Anon, all unobscured and bright, 
 Streak the dark waves with glittering light. 
 Thus twinkling rows of diamonds glow 
 On Indian monarch's dusky brow. 
 But where yon streak of light was cast 
 See ! a dim speck its path hath passed 
 
 'Tis making for the shore; 
 So far ofT still, so small, so dark, 
 The keen-eyed seabird scarce might mark 
 On the dim plain of waves the bark 
 
 Towards the coast that bore. 
 
 Ever, as still the strand it neared, 
 
73 
 
 Less and less dim its form appeared ; 
 
 Now plainly seen when high uptossed 
 
 On giant wave's broad back, now lost 
 
 In some deep watery vale : anon 
 
 A cliff-protected bay is won ; 
 
 But scarce is heard the oar's still splash, 
 
 Scarce heard the parting ripple's dash, 
 
 So stealthily the vessel glides. 
 
 So silently the wave divides, 
 
 That, spectre-like, it seemed to creep 
 
 As phantom born of troubled sleep, 
 
 Or shade, which on the waters cast 
 
 Is seen, flits noiseless, and is past. 
 
 Sudden, when yet the grating keel 
 The shallowing beach might scarcely feel, 
 Light springing from her bows to land, 
 That vessel's crew quick gained the strand. 
 Then, hurrying to and fro, they bore 
 
74 
 
 From the deep hull its freight to shore. 
 At length, when now the lightened boat 
 On the advancing tide might float, 
 Her crew their labouring shoulders plied, 
 And forced her downward to the tide : 
 Some with a spring the deck have gained, 
 The rest upon the beach remained, 
 Watching the lessening spot, which back 
 To open seas retraced its track. 
 
 On the dark speck awhile they gazed, 
 Then from the shore the pile they raised. 
 Each to the task his labour lent, 
 His brawny back each sailor bent, 
 And when at length their shoulders broad 
 Had each received their destined load, 
 Formed in a band, with cautious pace, 
 Up a dark vale their path they trace, 
 Casting full many a glance abroad. 
 
75 
 
 Lest hidden foe beset their road ; 
 But listening ear and watchful eye 
 No warning gave of danger nigh, 
 And careful that no sound betray 
 Unchallenged still they held their way. 
 
 Full plainly might in him who led 
 
 His trade and character be read ; 
 
 A sailor, and, if fame spoke true, 
 
 A smuggler, and a pirate too. 
 
 And well seemed he by nature made 
 
 To prosecute such desperate trade ; 
 
 His countenance and carriage bold 
 
 Of hardy resolution told ; 
 
 Like wary sentinel, his eye 
 
 Kept restless watch untiringly ; 
 
 While his broad chest and strength of limb, 
 
 His sullen look and visage grim, 
 
 The knife that in his belt he bore, 
 
The ready pistols that he wore, 
 And his rough bearing, showed him one 
 That e'en the boldest well might shun 
 To meet on cliff or seashore drear. 
 If timely succour were not near. 
 
 Besides all this too, busy Fame 
 
 With rumours dark had marked his name. 
 
 She told how one who strove to get 
 
 The price that on his head was set 
 
 Was missed, then found beneath the cliff 
 
 A mangled corpse all cold and stiff. 
 
 She whispered too that strange remorse 
 
 For such ill- deeds his mind would cross 
 
 Chief for his son, who once a child 
 
 Of kindly heart and temper mild, 
 
 By him all evil-daring taught, 
 
 At length was, still scarce willing, brought 
 
 To the same pass of guilt, and driven 
 
77 
 
 From peace on earth, and hope in heaven. 
 
 Now to the west their course is bent 
 Towards the tall cliff's abrupt ascent, 
 Where stones, and wood, and rocks amid, 
 The doubtful track lay dimly hid. 
 Up the steep pathway clambering slow 
 They gain the mountain's craggy brow. 
 There a low entrance access gave 
 To a deep, sandy, darksome c<ive 
 Which had (by nature formed in part) 
 Been strengthened and enlarged by art. 
 And well did seem that cavern planned 
 For refuge of such lawless band, 
 From storm and foe a safe resort, 
 A castle, storehouse, home, and fort. 
 But needless 'tis to paint it more, 
 Thyself may'st still those caves explore. 
 
78 
 
 And now, their load deposited, 
 With welcome food the board was spread. 
 Labour and fast a zest supplied, 
 Right merrily their flasks they plied. 
 The brawling oath, the boisterous joke, 
 The cave's resounding echoes woke, 
 And murmuring from the vaults profound 
 Bore to the air a hollow sound. 
 
 But silently and gloomily 
 Their chief beheld their revelry. 
 Some boding dread of coming ill 
 His rising mirth would sternly chill. 
 Wine no relief from trouble brought, 
 No rest could give to anxious thought : 
 Sudden he left the feast, to know 
 If the night air might cool his brow. 
 
 Pensively 'gainst a stone he leant, 
 

 79 
 
 On the thick gloom his gaze he bent, 
 But nought in that deep shade e'en eye 
 So keen and piercing might descry ; 
 Till, as dividing clouds gave way, 
 Was shot a solitary ray, 
 Then all was dark ; but, where it shone, 
 It gave to view an instant one 
 In soldier's garb, and one who knew, 
 Or traced, the secret pathway's clue. 
 Hurried and still the smuggler breathed, 
 His blade he silently unsheathed, 
 Savagely muttering " whether spy 
 He be, or enemy, he must die." 
 
 That fatal watchman soon might hear 
 The sound of cautious footsteps near ; 
 Now nearer yet they come, and now 
 Unerring he may strike the blow ; 
 One hurried gash, a fall, a groan ; 
 
80 
 
 And the dread tragedy is done. 
 
 By such, dire horror undismayed, 
 The murderer sheathed his dripping blade, 
 And anxious to provide a grave 
 Dragged the warm corpse within the cave. 
 But when the slain approached the light, 
 What vision dire appalled his sight ! 
 Well might he start that face to see, 
 Well might he quail, good cause had he 
 
 To wish his deed undone : 
 For in his bleeding victim there, 
 His eyes in death's fixed ghastly stare, 
 With livid hue, and clotted hair, 
 
 The father knew his son ! 
 
 44 Now really, Sir Poet," his auditor said, 
 
 44 You're amply redeeming the promise you made; 
 
81 
 
 Your verse is quite Scott-like, nay even Byronic, 
 And the horrors (to coin an expression) ' Plutonic, ' 
 But in spite of a tale of such fearful depravity, 
 I own that your pathos much tested my gravity." 
 
 " Be merciful, pray, gentle critic," he said, 
 " Impromptu — remember— and lend me your aid ; 
 I hoped you would shudder, or sigh, or look pale, 
 Or at intervals faint, in the course of the tale ; 
 But you took it quite coolly, indeed, all the while, 
 I fancied I saw you repressing a smile, 
 And if ever 1 warmed to a frenzy poetical, 
 With one of your comical looks you upset it all." 
 
 " Why I could'nt help thinking how he in disguise 
 Must have found being stabbed an unpleasant surprise ! 
 But why did he practise that funny deception 
 Which caused him at home such a fatal reception ?" 
 
 " You think that's a puzzle — indeed, so do I ! 
 But of course I'll explain, if I can, by and by ;" 
 (So as soon as his Wellingtons breathed inspiration, 
 
82 
 
 The bard thus continued his broken narration.) 
 
 The youth's dress and death's history 
 
 Were to the band a mystery. 
 
 'Twas thus ; returning late, he found 
 
 The hill with soldiers circled round, 
 
 And saw that outraged law at length 
 
 Had now, though late, put forth its strength. 
 
 Yet one endeavour would he try 
 
 To warn his friends, or with them die. 
 
 So, ere the guard his presence knew, 
 
 Th' unwary sentinel he slew, 
 
 And in his victim's clothing dressed 
 
 Through hostile bands unchallenged pressed. 
 
 The scheme so quickly formed and bold 
 
 But half prevailed, the rest is told. 
 
 On the dread sight which chained his gaze 
 The smuggler looked in wild amaze, 
 
83 
 
 And, save for sobs of hard drawn breath, 
 His eyes and form seemed fixed in death. 
 At length, with one one deep heavy groan, 
 Forth from the cave he burst alone, 
 And the dark pathway rushing down — 
 
 [a pause] 
 " Alas ! " said the poet, " What cruel ill luck ! 
 In such a magnificent passage I'm — ' stuck ' 
 For want of an ending with ' down ' that will chime — 
 Sweet muse in a bonnet, fair promptress, a rhyme ! " 
 " Let me see, there is ' brown ' ' out of town/ and 
 ' silk gown,' — 
 I have it! (you want something grand) ' half-a-crown' " 
 
 " In my purse, not my poems, it's proper position, 
 The coin that you name is a great acquisition ; 
 Its chink most refreshing of sounds, but the word 
 In an epic romance would be rather — absurd. 
 Meanwhile, we are leaving our friend in suspense, 
 So pray do supply me a word making sense." 
 
 a 2 
 
84 
 
 " Why of rhymes I've suggested a great superfluity. 
 
 " But to fit them would tax even your ingenuity ; 
 We'll omit it. I only just wanted to say 
 That in spite of the sodgers our friend got away ; 
 So please will you take that for granted instead ? 
 Or take it in prose, and I'll then ' go ahead.' " 
 
 See where St. Clement's image rude 
 From the live rock in pastime hewed 
 On the cave's denizens looked down — 
 (Time has not changed its stern cold frown) 
 Under the figure's pedestal, 
 Where the cave's darkest shadows fall, 
 The startled gang in trembling fear, 
 And active sense of danger near 
 Scooped a rough pit in anxious haste 
 Wherein the yet warm corpse they placed : 
 And scarce was closed again the grave, 
 Ere tramping soldiers filled the cave ; 
 
85 
 
 Some short resistance was but vain, 
 All were made prisoners or slain. 
 
 " You contrive to bring home the illusion so nicely ! 
 
 You've buried him just where we're sitting." 
 
 " Precisely 
 
 Hereabouts are his feet, and the tip of his nose is 
 
 Pointing up to the place where your nymphship reposes. 
 
 Though a sailor, no ' felo de se,' so I'm bound 
 
 To deposit him safe in more Christianlike ground. 
 
 So I think that I probably shall disinter him." 
 "Well, I musn't sit heavily then in the interim." 
 "He'll never ' get round "if you squeeze him quite flat • 
 
 And (pardon my candour) you are rather — fat ! 
 
 But we killed him quite dead, as you know, so attend, 
 
 For my story is, happily, near to its end. 
 
 Long years had left these caverns old 
 Unchanged, though tenantless and cold ; 
 
86 
 
 Till by some chance or fancy bred 
 
 A rumour got abroad and spread ; 
 
 Such tale as city gossips love 
 
 To coin, then argue on, and prove ; 
 
 The figure of the Saint, 'twas said, 
 
 Marked where some buried wealth was laid. 
 
 But searching carefully the ground, 
 
 Nought but a skeleton they found. 
 
 With pious rites all duly paid 
 
 This in a churchyard near was laid 
 
 Circling St. Clement's church, then just 
 
 New built, now crumbling into dust. 
 
 A few years more ; one morn 'twas said 
 
 That by St. Clement's caves lay dead 
 
 A grey old man, a stranger too, 
 
 But whom, and whence he came, none knew. 
 
 The burnt and furrowed face showed toil 
 
 And hardship on some tropic soil : 
 
87 
 
 And many a deep indented scar 
 Tokened a share in strife or war. 
 The vulgar curiosity 
 
 Much marvelled his strange garb to see ; 
 And gathered crowds looked on surprised, 
 But none the smuggler recognized, 
 Who, in his wild life's wane, at length 
 Spent the few drops of ebbing strength 
 Homeward his painful way to trace 
 To the dread well-remembered place 
 (By some strange fascination led) 
 Where his son's blood his hand had shed. 
 
 Close by the skeleton's fresh tomb 
 They dug the stranger's narrow home ; 
 Thus, when his weary course was run, 
 He lay beside his luckless son. 
 Two nameless and adjoining stones 
 Mark where together rest their bones ; 
 
88 
 
 United in a life unblest, 
 United still by fate in rest. 
 
 44 Many thanks for your lay, " said the lady in rising. 
 4 * Your legend, in many respects, is — surprising. 
 When I come to the throne you shall be Poet laureate.'* 
 
 44 Nay, then I'll be king, or king-consort at any rate.'' 
 
 M Good gracious ! 'tis six, we must hurry home 
 straight ; 
 I hadn't a notion 'twas getting so late. 
 The name of the smuggler's left out of your myth." 
 
 "To improve the romance shall we christen him 
 4 Smith?' " 
 
 44 But where was the heroine ? " 
 
 " Omitted, I own ; 
 Seeing you, I could think of one lady alone." 
 
 44 In future I'll call you the Hastings Apollo : 
 You beat the poetical Moses quite hollow ; 
 Description so striking, so bold, picturesque, 
 
89 
 
 And tragedy never approaching burlesque ! !" 
 " Nay, jocular goddess, the glory be thine, 
 
 For prompting such verse as would startle the Nine. 
 
 " ' Vous voila ' at home then, or, Anglice, back you are, 
 
 And we've had ' a nice lark ' (to adopt the vernacular)." 
 " You'll dream of the horrible pictures you drew." 
 " My dreams are enchanting, and always of yow." 
 " Mama, I'm afraid will be vexed beyond measure." 
 " Never fear, I will easily calm her displeasure. 
 
 You can say you've "brought home a long ta(i)le," like 
 the sheep, 
 
 Of that pastoral gentleman. Little Bo Peep. 
 
 You'll ride with us, wont you, tomorrow ? now do ! 
 
 We've ordered our steeds at eleven. Adieu ! " 
 
A TRAGEDY IN REAL LIFE. 
 
 Miss Snouty was lady-like, gentle, and sweet, 
 Good tempered, accomplished, and witty ; t 
 To look at her only was voted a treat, 
 And even the people she met in the street 
 Would exclaim sotto voce " how pretty ! " 
 
 But alas what mishaps do our fortunes derange ! 
 
 What crosses our welfare dispel ! 
 Calamities fall on us sudden and strange, 
 And as tempests the ocean's calm bosom derange, 
 
 So our Miss lost her peace in a " swell.'" 
 
91 
 
 Now I don't mean a swell of the nature wot loves 
 
 Loud patterns in fierce combinations, 
 In a glossy jet hat, unimpeachable gloves, 
 And (which a good tailor especially proves) 
 
 Symmetrical " continuations." 
 
 No ! 'twas thus. When our damsel one morning arose 
 
 She scarcely could credit her eyes ; 
 So tragic a wonder I grieve to disclose 
 But the truth will come out — only fancy ! her nose 
 
 Was treble it's natural size ! 
 
 What cause to assign to so dreadful an ill 
 
 Was puzzling, as well as distressing ; 
 And what was yet worse, it kept growing on still, 
 And had swelled to the size of a pelican's bill 
 
 By the time she had finished her dressing. 
 
 Before too, whenever she happened to sneeze 
 The effect had been richly melodious ; 
 
92 
 
 But now 'twas a husky spasmodical wheeze 
 Uncertainly rambling through various keys 
 In a manner decidedly odious. 
 
 I wish I could say that the nob had decreased,. 
 
 But as yet tisn't visibly shrunk ; 
 So the Snouty resembles that singular beast 
 The " Tapir nasutus " (so Cuvier) at least 
 
 In respect of her queer little trunk. 
 
 However its medical men do not fear 
 
 But 'twill shrink to its proper dimensions; 
 
 When that great event shall have happened, we hear 
 
 The particular object will fully appear 
 Of Lord SyvilTs especial attentions. 
 

 93 
 
 ECONOMICAL CONSIDERATION. 
 
 
 From Basel to Kehl 
 
 Is a capital sail, 
 And the banks of the river divine ! 
 
 But alas the expense 
 
 Must, of course, be immense 
 Of " coming down strong with the ' Rhin(e)-0.' " 
 
 REFLECTION IN STEYNING CHURCHYARD. 
 
 Requiescatis in pace, good folks ! 
 And though such a scene is no subject for jokes, 
 I trust since in Steyning your lives were all passed 
 That you failed not in dying yourselves well at last. 
 
94 
 
 IN COMPTON CHURCHYARD, NEAR WINCHESTER, 
 
 IS A STONE SLAB IN THE PATH TO THE MEMORY 
 
 OF CATHERINE TROD. 
 
 EPIGRAM ON THE ABOVE. 
 
 Under this sod 
 
 Lies Catherine Trod, 
 O press on her grave but as light air I 
 
 So tranquil a sleep 
 
 (Just seven feet deep) 
 'T would be cruel to spoil by a nightmare. 
 
 QUESTION. 
 
 How does a bantam differ from a dirty housemaid ? 
 
 ANSWER. 
 
 One is a domestic fowl, and the other is a foul 
 domestic. 
 
VALENTINE. 
 
 ADDRESSED TO A LARGE YOUNG LADY FAMILIARLY 
 KNOWN BY THE NICKNAME OF " THOMPSON." 
 
 The elephant's prodigious hulk 
 (The jungle when he romps on) 
 
 Resembles thee in weight and bulk 
 O stout substantial Thompson ! 
 
 The workman, when the pavement laying, 
 The stones he rudely thumps down 
 
 Recalls thee, the piano playing, 
 Melodious — clever — Thompson ! ! 
 
96 
 
 That lovely face in size so grand 
 In dreams extatic haunts one ; 
 
 Bestow on me that fine large hand 
 Extensive- — stalwart — Thompson ! ! ! 
 
 Be mine ! and in a luggage train 
 
 I'll try to get thee home soon, 
 Stuff thee and put thee in a case 
 
 Most ornamental Thompson ! ! I ! 
 
 [ With a design for a curtain ring large enough 
 to wed Thompson's stout finger toi/h.] 
 
VALENTINE. 
 
 IMPROMTU (IN THE FLORIDO-FOOLISH STYLE 
 OF ARCHITECTURE.) 
 
 Would it were mine, dear maid, to sip 
 (Binding thy neck with Cupid's chains) 
 
 The crystal nectar from thy lip, 
 Quintessence sweet of sugar canes. 
 
 See ! to blissful love inviting 
 
 Lo ! the tender gentle doves, 
 Emotions soft their hearts uniting, 
 
 Flit among the emerald groves. 
 
98 
 
 Yes ! thy feeling heart, like mine, 
 Pierced with Cupid's darts I see ; 
 
 O be my gentle Valentine ! 
 
 Fol de dol diddle dol, fol diddle dee. 
 
ffipisiks Jtbkatorg. 
 
 TO M. E., 
 
 WITH A VIENNESE BRACELET, INSCRIBED 
 " GOTT SCHUIiTZE DICH." 
 
 May you, my dear Mary, I pray, 
 Be boundlessly happy and rich, 
 
 And prosperous, that is to say 
 
 Germanice, " Gott schujtze dich." 
 
 h 2 
 
100 
 TO AN OLD FRIEND 
 
 WITH SOME VIENNESE SLIPPERS. 
 
 We often are told that the rose 
 Is never found free from a thorn : 
 
 The like might be said of some toes 
 Eternally vexed with a corn. 
 
 Should those petty miscreants tease you 
 
 And make it a labour to skip. 
 May these little soft slippers ease you, 
 
 And through life may you pleasantly trip. 
 
 TO THE RECTOR OF 
 
 WITH A MINIATURE OF A LADY ON DRESDEN CHINA. 
 
 To that learned Divine we have brought 
 A beauty from Dresden — on china — 
 
 And (though I shouldn't say it) could aught 
 Be possibly painted diviner r 
 
101 
 
 If such were discovered existing 
 With charms so angelic and rare, 
 
 Our Rector might fail in resisting, 
 Though as yet unsubdued by the fair. 
 
 TO * 
 
 WITH AN AUSTRIAN STEEL BRACELET. 
 
 Enclasped with this bracelet of Austrian steel 
 Very much like a pickpocket handcuffed you'll feel, 
 But should you, in fact, ever get into gaol, 
 Just tip me a line and I'll furnish you bail. 
 
 TO A DISTINGUISHED CONVEYANCER 
 
 WITH A BOHEMIAN TUMBLER. 
 
 When wearied with drawing of deeds let a " draught " 
 Of a different kind from this tumbler be quaffed, 
 
102 
 
 For depend on it, nothing like porter or stout 
 Of dry legal documents moistens the drought, 
 And often the potion such extacy follows 
 That dry old conveyancers come out Apollos. 
 
 TO N. E. 
 
 WITH A RING INSCRIBED " GOTT SCHULTZE DICH 
 
 ja 
 
 My very dear Nelly, to you 
 
 I always will faithfully stick 
 As close as this ring — now adieu ! 
 
 And amen ! to its " Gott schiiltze dich. ,r 
 
 TO JESSY 
 
 WITH A SILK PURSE FROM PARIS. 
 
 A purse, my dear Jessy, I send, 
 And hope that abundance of riches 
 
103 
 
 Will always, as fast as you spend, 
 
 Fill up, and keep straining, its stitches. 
 
 But should the exchequer grow tight, 
 As it's always too ready to do, 
 
 Let me know, and my very last mite 
 I'll devote with great pleasure to you. 
 
 TO- MR. H. J. 
 
 WITH A RED GLASS GOBLET. 
 
 My very good friend, a goblet I send 
 Wherein you your toddy may brew, 
 
 And stealing its dye pale whiskey will vie 
 With the grape's rich and deep ruddy hue. 
 
104 
 
 And each happy day at Millhall when you stay, 
 You shall have a magnificent bumper, 
 
 Yet not one but a throng, hot, spicy, and strong, 
 Because you " a regular trump " are. 
 
 TO H. M. VANE 
 
 WITH A SIMILAR PRESENT 
 
 Dear Vane, Some Bohemian rubbish (a tumbler) 
 
 To you I beg leave to present, 
 And perhaps though the offering could not be humbler 
 
 You may not disapprove what is meant ; 
 
 Which is this, that in changing the Barrister's trade 
 
 For working upon our commission 
 I find that acquaintance with you to have made 
 
 Has proved an immense acquisition. 
 
105 
 TO THE SAME 
 
 WITH A BASKET OF PRAWNS. 
 
 (IMPROMTU IN A FISHMONGER'S SHOP ) 
 
 The flavour of prawns 
 
 No epicure scorns 
 And therefore a basket to Vane is sent ; 
 
 And with them the wish 
 
 Is breathed, that the dish 
 May prove, through it's goodness, evane-scent. 
 
EPITAPH ON MY UGLY DOG " ROSE." 
 
 'Neath this sod, where the soft purple hyacinth blows, 
 And the dew-spangled meadow-grass springs fresh 
 and green, 
 
 Rest the bones of my faithful companion, poor Rose, 
 The ugliest creature that ever was seen. 
 
 So hideous the hue of her snuff-coloured hide, 
 So shapeless her head, and so little wit in it, 
 
 That her master's acquaintances constantly cried 
 
 " Were that horrid dog mine I would hang it this 
 minute." 
 
107 
 
 Then I smiled; for, our language could dogs understand, 
 How bravely, old friend, you'd have answered and 
 said, 
 
 " My master would sooner cut off his right hand 
 
 Than harm one small hair of my rough grizzled head." 
 
 How much you were cared for when living, you knew, 
 And now you have come to a tranquil late end, 
 
 If still your old master your spirit may view 
 
 It sees that he mourns for a much valued friend. 
 
 For O ! the deep spring of abundant affection 
 
 Which filled all your dog's-heart full up to the brim ; 
 
 Your eyes ever waiting your master's direction, 
 
 Your thoughts, hopes, and wishes, all centered in 
 him ! 
 
 How you courted and welcomed a word or caress 
 With bright grateful eyes and intelligent look ; 
 
108 
 
 More earnest deep feeling one glance could express 
 Than all the thick leaves of a folio book. 
 
 And shall such attachment which thrills through the 
 nature 
 
 Of aught that exists, silly ridicule move ? 
 No ! such feelings, though ever so humble the creature, 
 
 Are breathed by a Spirit that comes from above. 
 
 And to you, my poor dog, I was bound by the tie 
 That your heart was the only one wholly my own, 
 
 And I feel, as I turn from the spot where you lie, 
 That in more than my walks I am henceforth alone. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 
 
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