THE IRISH SMUGGLERS.

FROM Brighton two Paddy's walk'd under the cliff,
For pebbles and shells to explore,

When lo! a small barrel was drop'd from the skiff,
Which floated at length to the shore.
Says Dermot to Pat, "we the owner will bilk-
To-night we'll be merry and frisky;

I know it as well as my own Mother's milk,
Dear joy! 'tis a barrel of whiskey."

Says Pat," I'll soon broach it, O fortunate lot!"
(Now Pat you must know was no joker ;)
"I'll go to Tom Murphy, who lives in yon cot,
And borrow his kitchen hot poker."

'Twas said, and 'twas done- -the barrel was bor❜d, (No Bacchanals ever felt prouder)

When Paddy found out a small error on board

The whiskey, alas! was gunpowder.

With sudden explosion he flew o'er the ocean,
And in the air sported a leg;

Yet instinct prevails when philosophy fails,
So kept a tight hold of the keg.

But Dermot bawl'd out, with a terrible shout,
"I'm not to be done,-Mr. Wiseman,

If

you do not come down, I'll run into the town, And by St. Patrick I'll tell the Exciseman."

A face of brick-dust red,

She's had one of her eyes knock'd out,
And a glass one in its stead

She gets quite lushy every night,
As any one may see,

Oh! my head, my head is aching,
From the thumps that she gave me.

I've sunk beneath her pondrous fist,
I've shiver'd with afright,

But she has nearly done for me,

If she hasn't " blow me tight;"
And when I'm dead and gone, perhaps,
Some sparting cove may say,
"Oh! his head, his head was broken,
By the fists of Sally Gray."

THE MARINER'S GRAVE.

RECITATION.

Jesse Hammond.

I REMEMBER the night was stormy and wet,
And dismally dash'd the dark wave,

While the rain and the sleet

Cold and heavily beat

On the Mariner's new-dug grave.

I remember 'twas down in a darksome dale,
And near to a dreary cave,

Where the wild winds wail
Round the wanderer pale,
That I saw the Mariner's grave.

I remember how slowly the bearers trod,
And how sad was the look they gave,
As they rested their load

Near its last abode,

And gazed on the Mariner's.

grave.

I remember nó sound did the silence break,

As the corpse to the earth they gave,

Save the night-bird's shriek,

And the coffin's creak,

As it sunk in the Mariner's grave..

I remember a tear that slowly slid
Down the cheek of a messmate brave,
It fell on the lid,

And soon was hid,

For clos'd was the Mariner's grave.

Now 'o'er his lone bed the brier creeps,
And the wild flow'rs mournfully wave,
And the willow weeps,

And the moon-beam sleeps
On the Mariner's silent grave.

MONEY.

Smith.

SINCE Songs of all kinds almost daily are singing,
And subjects so funny in our ears are now ringing,
The song I'm beginning is equally funny,
And founded on that handy article " money."
Money's the torment of many folks lives,
Money's a thing for which some men seek wives,
Money is useful in every station,

Money's the prop of this glorious nation.

Money's a thing we never refuse
Money's a thing we should not abuse,
Money we earn, and money we pay,
Money's in motion day after day.

The rich when unhappy, the poor when the same,
Say money's the cause-for which they're to blame,
Yet the article's useful no one can deny,

For to live without money 'tis useless to try,
Money buys freedom wherever it mingles,
Money's a thing charm the ear when it tingles,
To see money equalized is very rare,

[share. And they're lucky rogues who have more than their Money's a thing, &c.

It's pleasant to look at, and pleasant to find it, To be rich as a King-but, as times are don't mind it, What well know, money can do all pretty you It goes very fast-but comes in very slow;

Money is useful to those who are debtors,
Bat money alas it lays with our betters:
Whatever we drink or whatever we eat,

They tax us for money which I'm sure is no treat.
Money's a thing, &c.

LIEUTENANT LUFF.

A COMIC RECITATION.

ALL you that are so fond of wine,
Or any other stuff,

Take warning by the dismal fate

Of one Lieutenant Luff:

A sober man he might have been,
Except in one regard ;

He did not like soft water, Sir,
So he took to drinking hard.
Said he," let others fancy slops,
And talk in praise of tea;

But I am no Bohemian,

So I do not like Bohea..
If wine's a poison, so is tea,
Though in another shape;
What matter whether one is kill'd
By canister or grape?"

According to this kind of state,
Did he indulge his drouth;

Get And being fond of Port, he made
A port-hole of his mouth.

A single pint he might have sipp'd
And not been out of sorts,

In geologic phrase, the rock

He split upon, was quarts.
Full soon the sad effects of this
His frame began to show,
For that old enemy-the gout,
Had taken him in toe.

And join'd with this an evil came

Of quite another sort,

Hood.

ན

For while he drank himself, his purse

Was getting something short..

For want of cash he soon had poppi'd
One half that he possess'd,

And drinking show'd him duplicates
Before-hand of the rest.

So then his creditors resolv'd

To seize on his assets,

For why

they found that his half-pay

Did not half pay his debts.

But Luff contriv'd a novel mode

His creditors to chouse,
For his own execution, he
Put into his own house-
A pistol to the muzzle charg'd,
He took, devoid of fear,
Said he," this barrel is my
So now for my last bier."

last,

Against his lungs he aim'd the slugs,
And not against his brains;
So he blew out his lights and none
Could blow them in again.
A jury for a verdict met,

And gave it in these terms:"We find as how as certain slugs Has sent him to the worms."

FRENCH AND ENGLISH.

NEVER go to France

Unless you know the lingo,

If you do, like me,

You'll repent by jingo,

Staring like a fool,

And silent as a mummy,
There I stood alone,

A nation with a dummy.
So never go, &c

Chaises stand for chairs,

They christen letters Billies, They call their mothers mares, And all their daughters fillies;