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THE TEARS OF MARGATE.

25

We will not pledge ourselves for the literal verity of either of the above accounts, though we believe that each is substantially true.

The following is the remnant of a descriptive ditty which hath been made upon this unpleasant occasion, and is now sung through the Isle of Thanet, and promises to be as popular as "Chevy Chase," or " Malbrook." It is attributed to the powerful and poignant pen of Mr. Fawcett, the comedian, who is now here on a flying visit to Hygeia, to buy half a yard of health for winter's wear; and who is well known to be au fuit on such emergencies.

God prosper long our noble King,
Who rules each sturdy Briton;
And eke our little King Le Bas,
Whom Athlete have spit on!

Pray read, Sir Clement Cottrel, read,
What now flows from my penna;
Publish it not in Gath, I trow,

Nor Paris, nor Vienna.

Where will the difference be betwixt
An assembly and a hop,
If King Le Bas foregoes his crown,
And's forc'd to-shut up shop?

Shall Elegance be now defunct.?
Shall life's delights be o'er?

Shall Phryne flaunt where Virtue danc'd?
Shall Manners be no more?

Should Envy smile when Monarchs bleed
By Treason, or par hazard,
May gnawing Rheum infest his joints,
And Anguish writhe his mazzard!

Mild as Favonius greets the rose,
Kind as the May-morn breeze,
He urg'd politeness 'midst his mob,
And seem'd but pleas'd to please!

VOL. XV.

C

Let

Let tulips close their calices,
Each sunflower hide his head;
'Cause Etiquette has got a squeeze,
And Dignity is dead!

Bid recreant Loyalty demand

A Drimmundah from "Shelah."
Let no dove coo, nor songster sing,
Excepting Philomela !

He was a man of mighty soul,
Although of little size;
But, auditors, 'fore I proceed,
Pray let me wipe my eyes!

I've left my handkerchief at home,
And cannot do without it;
Stay here, good folks: when I return
I'll tell you all about it.

Margate, Aug. 20.

THE CONTINUATION.

[From the same.]

IN

Margate, Aug. 22. N order to methodize, and, if possible, to soften the habitudes of some of the piebald gentry who visit this renowned port, Mr. Le Bas hath issued the following official announcement:

"The Master of the Ceremonies requests that no gentleman will come to the rooms in boots, or pantaloons, or trowsers (military gentlemen in uniform excepted), as they will not be admitted, it being contrary to the orders and regulations of the place."

The ensuing lines were posted, last night, under this Ukase of authority:

Tut! tut! Le Bas, ne'er fume and fret,
But advertise the shop's to let;

And go, and live at Dover.

Here Vandal force, and impudence,

Have strangled manners, wit, and sense;

Here

THE TEARS OF MARGATE.

Here the swill'd sons of riot swear;
Doing what's rude, because-they dare!
And all the charm of ceremony's over!!!

SYMPTOMS OF MAGNANIMITY.

27

We are informed, from the highest authority (locally considered), that yesterday morning the Sieur Le Bernard, M. C. of Dandelion, called upon his august competitor for fame and fortune, the Sieur Le Bas, M. C. of Margate, Ramsgate, Broadstairs, and Bath, to inquire the state of his health, after his recent row with Colonel and Captain -; when the domestic delivered the following consolatory bulletin:

"Much recovered, though a little uneasy in mind yet.-Dreamed of a pirouette at 3 A. M. and kicked down his panado: but the feverish indications are abated, and his complete restoration to pristine health may be looked for with confidence."

On hearing this, the polished regulator of movements at Dandelion proudly exclaimed, like a Christian, a gentleman, and a chevalier, as he is, "I thank my stars!" This instance of benignity was not lost; for the moment that the Sieur Le Bas heard the liberal ejaculation, he descended (sine cucullo), like a flash of lightning, to the foot of the stairs, and pressed his rival to his swelling bosom! This fraternal hug was not ineffectual; for the Loves and the Graces saw it, with transport, from the edge of a blue cloud that hung over the North Foreland, and dispatched a young zephyr, to signify their pleasure at this felicitous reconciliation, and, at the same time, to deliver the following billet d'amitié, signed by the whole party, viz.

"In all the globe, but heroes two we know,
Bernard the graceful, and Le Bas the beau!"

THE

THE RUSTICATED CANTAB.

[From the British Press, Sept. 5.]

DREAD worthies, I bow at your shrine,
And, kneeling submissive, petition
You'll pardon this false step of mine,
And pity my dismal condition.
When ye met all together of late,

In the room which we term combination,
To fix your petitioner's fate,

Alas! why did you choose rustication? That my conduct was wrong, I must own, And your justice am forc'd to acknowledge; But can I in nowise atone

For my fault, without leaving the college?
Consider how strange 't will appear,

In the mind of each fine jolly fellow,
That a Cantab was banish'd a year,
Just for rowing a little when mellow.
You have precedents, no one denies,
To prove it but just that I went hence;
But, surely, no harm could arise,

If ye were to relax in your sentence.
No; trust me, much good should proceed
From granting this very great favour;
For, imprest with a sense of the deed,

;

I'd carefully mend my behaviour.
You will, then, have on me a fast hold,
For gratitude 's stronger than any tie
Then pray do not think me too bold
In thus begging hard for some lenity!
But, why should I hunibly implore,
Since to you all my sorrow's a farce?
I'll supplicate fellow's no more!

So, ye Reverend Dons-[caret pars!]
The lad who good drinking enjoys,
I'll cheerfully pledge in a full can,
Rustication 's quite common, my boys,
Remember Apollo and Vulcan :

These

A SCENE FROM THE CRITIC.

These two heroes were hurl'd from the skies,
Neither forges nor music could save them,
For, heartily d- -g their eyes,

Jove a travelling fellowship gave them.
Then, no longer let mortals repine,

If to grass sent from Oxon or Granta,
But stick to the blessings divine,

Which flow from a well-fill'd decanter.
When our goblets with nectar are crown'd,
And our spirits rise faster and faster,
While good humour smiles gaily around,
A fig for the Fellows and Master!

[blocks in formation]

A SCENE FROM THE CRITIC, PERFORMED AT THE HOUSE OF CORRECTION.

[From the Morning Chronicle, Sept. 26.]

Enter Governor with hair properly disordered.

A

GOVERNOR.

HEMISPHERE of evil planets reigns! And every planet sheds contagious frenzy! My great swell pris'ner and his pal are flown! But hark! I'm summon'd to attend the bench;

C 3

29

Perhaps

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