is so anxious to discover where the cake is, that he has affixed the following hand-bill to the stage-door:

“Whereas a cake has been stolen from the hairdresser's room, whoever will give the necessary information shall receive a reward of ten crotchets.

(Signed)

“ W. Ware.” Unhappy fiddlers! alas, ye cannot exclaim with the Moor

"He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stole,
Let him not know 't, and he's not robb'd at all.”

MORE PARTICULARS.

[From the same.}

THE nefarious peculation of fiddler's cake still remains buried in the same obscurity as Mr. Kemble's dissyllabic pronunciation of aches in the Tempest; but leaving this knotty point to the learned author of the short-lived farce of Mr. H. wẹ shall proceed to state some additional facts which have come within our knowledge. From several circumstances which have been promulgated it has been ascertained, that a large slice, either of buttered bun or plum cake, was seen carried into the lodgings of Mr. Ledger. It was by no means a common-place entry; and, as it was done in the evening, it could not have been inserted in the day-book. A search-warrant was consequently obtained from Bow Street; but after a minute inquiry, the investigation proved unsuccessful; though, upon its being communicated to Townsend, the knowing trap acutely observed, “ Vy, my jolly master, didn't you look under Glumdalca's petticoats?" The treasury have incurred their share in the obloquy; for which unjust accusation, Messrs. Hughes, J. Brandon, and Tull, have determined to give their accusers a check. Mr. Ware, the leader

of

of the fiddlers, the giant among pigmies, the one-eyed monarch of the blind, is much hurt at the disgrace put upon the sons of rosin. He asserted, in the Green Room, that the orchestra was not to be considered as secondary; to which an actor, of approved and estimable celebrity, aptly retorted-"No, Sir, fourth or fifth." Thus remains the case: but we are concerned to inform the hungry fiddlers, that, from certain information, we can state, in black letter,

“The cake is eaten.”

THE RAPE OF THE CAKE :

A COVENT GARDEN ECLOGUE.

INSCRIBED TO THE MUSICAL BAND OF COVENT GARDEN THEATRE, ON ACCOUNT OF THE RECENT THEFT OF THEIR TWELFTH CAKE.

[From the same.]

"Quid rapuisti ?"

THE night was dark! fast clos'd the plunderer's hand!
And idle Jehus slept upon the stand!"

The lone Piazza, erst the gay resort
Of flash and fun, and meretricious sport,
Then only echo'd to th' unvarying sound
Of drowsy watchmen, pacing their dull round.
Kiddies no more at Glue or Brilliant sup,
And e'en the far-fam'd Finish was done up.
All rest in sleep! save-those who were awake-
The wicked wags who stole the fiddlers' cake.
Not with more silence did Ulysses tread,
When he relentless struck King Rhesus dead;
Not with more caution did th' invading Gaul
Attempt to storm the Capitolian wall;

Not with more care did valorous Smith advance
To burn the navy of insulting France;

Not with more ease did Belcher beat poor Burke,

Than those vile plunderers did the dreadful work!!!

But

But say, my muse, what prodigies appear'd?
The rain fast pour'd, and horrid screams were heard!
Loud thunder shook the gay theatric pile,

And Kemble first relax'd into a smile!

The theft announc'd, the band were in dismay,
And nought was heard but "Oh and Well-a-day!"
The leader Ware, with anger in his soul,
While, his limbs tremble; and his eyeballs roll,
D-n!" cried," this insult's too imposing,
Shall we bear this, ye scraping sons of rosin ?"
The puffy Parke, who never was a starter,
Said, "In this cause I wish to die a Marty?!"
Hawtin, with face inflated like a crumpet,

"L-d bless us!" said, and dropp'd his brazen trumpet.
And smirking Davy, with his powder'd pate,
Plump'd snug upon his seat, and grinn'd in state.
While feeble Woodcock let his anger loose,.
And fix'd the theft on harmless Mother Goose !!!
But say, my muse, and then I'll cry farewell!
Who stole the cake ?—“ Indeed I cannot tell!
And this I swear, in accents strong and slow,
I cannot tell!-because-I do not know !"

TIM TARTLET.

FRAGMENT OF A COVENT GARDEN PASTORAL.

[From the same.]

"Despairing beside a clear stream.”—GAY.

DID you see a Twelfth Cake in your round;

A good one as ever was made?

Tis sweet, and weighs many a pound,

Alas! it is stolen or stray'd!

You may know the dear Cake by this mark-
On the top is a gilt sugar lyre,

And the bust of Apollo, that spark
That sets every genius on fire.

To the fiddlers, that sweetly do play,
This Cake was presented so fine;
And, because it was on a Twelfth Day,
Came grac'd with twelve bottles of wine!

In a hair-dresser's room was it stow'd,

And carefully lock'd was the door, Where nor mouse nor a rat had abode,

Yet the Twelfth Cake was never seen more!

Long they search'd, and they search'd all around,
Long they search'd, but, alas! 't was in vain
When they heard a deep bass viol sound,

And a voice, sweetly sad, thus complain:

"Ah! whither, Twelfth Cake, art thou gone?
Shall we ne'er see thy sweet face again?
Art thou curing John Kemble's sad moan,
And dispelling his aitches and pain?"
"O no!" Johnny Kemble replies,
By my suvran power I swear,

By my burd, and the conschince I prize,
That Twelfth Cake did never come here!

"O'er Baddeley's Cake have I been
Full many times cheerful and gay;
But the fiddlers' cake never have seen-
Then away, base complainer, away!'

!"

He said, and he march'd through the room,
With a monstrously dignified air;
And with him went all the sad gloom,
Dame Tragedy's stalk and her stare.

Then listen once more unto me,

In sorrow 't is well to be brief;

And if the dear Cake we can't see,
Let's find out the name of the thief.

The box-book they search'd all in vain
Jem Brandon he lent them his aid;
But in the old Ledger, 't was plain,
A sweet double-entry was made!
"Oho!" cried the fiddlers all round,
"We swear by our gut-scraping fame,
That, though our Twelfth Cake be not found,
This Ledger conceals the rogue's name!"

*

*

*

CETERA DEsunt.

THE

THE TASTE OF THE TIMES.

[From the Morning Post.]

SOME whim or fancy pleases every age;
And talents premature are now the rage.
In music how great Handel would have smil'd
T' have seen whole crowds in raptures with a child!
A Garrick we have had in little Betty,

And now, we're told, we have a Pitt in Petty.
All must allow, since thus it is decreed,

He is a very Petty Pitt indeed.

THE SAFETY OF THE COUNTRY.
[From the same.]

-Non deficit alter

Aureus; et simili frondescit virga metallo.

WHEN Richmond's great Duke long ago sallied forth,

He entrench'd the whole country-south, east, west, and north:

For he held that this mis'rable nation of ours

Must be sav'd by mud walls, palisadoes, and towers.
Next Windham, with projects and crotchets quite new,
Comes forward (for he will be Quixotting too);

And with Crawfurd, as Sancho and Dapple, to back him,
He defies all the windmills on earth to attack him;
Our army, which cost us such trouble to train,

He begs to set free, to enlist them again;

Our militia, he thinks, to our strength may conduce,

If, to make them more strong, you their numbers reduce;
While the poor volunteers, those unfortunate elves!
He dresses in green--to be kill'd by themselves:

And their leaders-whom fortune and rank may make prouder,

He mentions as proper provision for powder.
Jack Tar, who has heard them these projects discuss,
Exclaims-"Let them leave but the ocean to us;
We care not a jot what these lubbers are a'ter-

They shall find that the land shall be sav'd by the water.”

MILITARIS.

HIS