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The pudding brought on too
And aiming at ton too!
And where is that John too,

The plague that he is ?
He's off on some ramble:
And there is Miss Campbell,
Enjoying the scramble,

Detestable Quiz!

The veal they all eye it,
But no one will try it,
An Ogre would shy it

So ruddy as that!
And as for the mutton,
The cold dish it's put on,
Converts to a button

Each drop of the fat.

The beef without mustard ! My fate's to be fluster'd, And there comes the custard

To eat with the hare !
Such flesh, fowl, and fishing,
Such waiting and dishing,
I cannot help wishing

A woman might swear!
Oh dear! did I ever-
But no, I did never-
Well, come, that is clever,

To send vp the brawn!

That cook, I could scold her, Gets worse as she's older; I wonder who told her

That woodcocks are drawn!

It's really audacious !
I cannot look gracious,
Lord help the voracious

That came for a cram!
There's Alderman Fuller
Gets duller and duller.
Those fowls, by the colour,

Were boild with the ham!

Well, where is the curry?
I'm all in a flurry.
No, cook 's in no hurry-

A stoppage again!
And John makes it wider,
A pretty provider!
By bringing up cider

Instead of champagne !

My troubles come faster !
There's my lord and master
Detects each disaster,

And hardly can sit :
He cannot help seeing,
All things disagreeing ;
If he begins d—ing

I'm off in a fit!

This cooking ?—it's messing ! The spinach wants pressing, And salads in dressing

Are best with good eggs.
And John-yes, already-
Has had something heady,
That makes him unsteady

In keeping his legs.
How shall I get through it !
I never can do it,
I'm quite looking to it,

To sink by and by.
Oh! would I were dead now,
Or.up in my bed now,
To cover my head now

And have a good cry!

A ROW AT THE OXFORD ARMS.

“ Glorious Apollo from on high beheld us.”

OLD SONG. As latterly I chanced to pass A Public House, from which, alas! The Arms of Oxford dangle ! My ear was startled by a din, That made me tremble in my skin, A dreadful hubbub from within, Of voices in a wrangleVoices loud, and voices high, With now and then a party-cry, Such as used in times gone by To scare the British border : When foes from North and South of TweedNeighbours—and of Christian creed-. Met in hate to fight and bleed, Upsetting Social Order. Surprised, I turn’d me to the crowd, Attracted by that tumult loud, And ask'd a gazer, beetle-brow'd, The cause of such disquiet. When lo! the solemn-looking man, First shook his head on Burleigh's plan, And then, with fluent tongue, began His version of the riot:

A row !-why yes,-a pretty row, you might hear

from this to Garmany, And what is worse, it 's all got up among the Sons

of Harmony, The more's the shame for them as used to be in . time and tune,

[June ! And all unite in chorus like the singing-birds in Ah! many a pleasant chant I've heard in passing

here along, When Swiveller was President a-knocking down

a song; But Dick's resign'd the post, you see, and all them

shouts and hollers Is 'cause two other candidates, some sort of larned

scholars, Are squabbling to be Chairman of the Glorious

Apollers !

Lord knows their names, I'm sure I don't, no

, more than any yokel, But I never heard of either as connected with the

vocal; Nay, some do say, although of course the public

rumour varies, They've no more warble in 'em than a pair of hen

canaries; Though that might pass if they were dabs at t other

sort of thing, For a man may make a song, you know, although

he cannot sing;

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