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17 Hooks-fingers; in full, thieving hooks.

18 Collar his dragons-take his sovereigns; on the obverse of a sove

reign is, or was, a figure of St George and the dragon. The etymon of collar is obvious to all persons who know the taking ways of Bow-street, and elsewhere. It is a whimsical coincidence, that the motto of the Marquis of Londonderry is, Metuenda corolla draconis." Ask the city of London, if "I fear I may not collar the dragons," would not be a fair translation.

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Then his other toggery stowing,

All with the swag, I sneak away; "Tramp it, tramp it, my jolly blowen, Tol lol, &c.

Or be grabbed 23 by the beaks24 we may.

"Tramp it, tramp it, my jolly blowen,
Or be grabbed by the beaks we may ;
And we shall caper a-heel-and-toeing,
Tol lol, &c..

A Newgate hornpipe some fine day.

"And we shall caper a-heel-and-toeing,
A Newgate hornpipe some fine day;
With the mots,25 their ogles26 throwing,
Tol lol, &c.

And old Cotton27 humming his pray.23

"With the mots their ogles throwing, And old Cotton humming his pray; And the fogle-hunters 29 doing,

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ODOHERTY.

28 Grabbed-taken. 24 Beakspolice-officers.

25 Mots-girls. 26 Ogles-eyes.

27 Old Cotton-the Ordinary of Newgate.

28 Humming his pray-saying the

prayers.

29 Fogle-hunters-pickpockets.

30 Morning fake-morning thie

very.

Well, I've sung my share of this night's singing in all conscience. Now, Theodore, do give us a twist.

A Twiss-Heaven forefend!

I should feel much obliged

THEODORE.

I'don't deal in Horatian metres.
TICKLER.

THEODORE (going to the piano-forte.)

Oh! if it obliges you-(aside to Odoherty)-I had no idea that these savages had such a thing as a piano in their country. I took it for granted they played only on the pipes.

ODOHERTY (aside to THEODORE.)

Or the fiddle-it is a national instrument.

THEODORE (Chanting-Air, my banks they are covered with bees.)

My left is adorn'd by a poet,

Unrivalled in song and in grog,

For the word is continually go it,

'Tween the Muse, or the mug, and our Hogg.

Mount Benger and Mador may shew it,

Of his doings they both keep a log.

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24 Hanged.

Sur la placarde de vergne
Il nous faudrait gambiller
Allumés de toutes ces largues"
Lonfra malura dondaine,
Et du trepe rassemble
Lonfa malura donde.

Allumés de toutes ces largues
Et du trepe rassemblé,

Et de ces charlats bons drilles,
Lonfa malura dondaine,
Tous abolant goupiner 30
Lonfa malura dondé.

23 Take care of yourself, shopkeeper.
25 On the Place de Ville.

#7 Looked at by all these women. 28 People.
30 All coming to rob

26 To dance.

20 Thieyes; good fellows.

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And now for applauses you look

Fal de rol, &c.

On a person whose qualities we adore;

And you'll have it by hook or by crook,

Quoth the modest and blush-mantled Theodore.

Contradiction in this we'll not brook;

No-that window should instantly be a door

For the wretch who this dogma forsook,

EARTH HOLDS NO IMPROVIZER LIKE THEODORE.

Fal de rol, &c.

Hold-at present he's chain'd with the gout,
But at Christopher's table we sit-
And on no account must we leave out
Our immortal old paymaster Kit.

If he's sane, I confoundedly doubt-
And the world never thought him a wit;
But he's sending good Bourdeaux about,
And so here goes a stanza and Kit.
Fal de rol, &c.

That will do for to-night.

SHEPHERD.

Charmin'-just wunnerfu'-eh, man! gie me a shake o' your hand; ye're just a brither amang us when North's awa, and we're a' at our ease.

THEODORE.

My dear Shepherd, I'm not such a Cockney but I can appreciate the squeeze of that hand. Come now, give us a taste of your quality.

My quality, hinny?

SHEPHERD.

TICKLER.

He means a song of the true old Scottish cut-a genuine bud of the hea ther-Come, James.

SHEPHERD.

Is that a'? I'll mak and sing ane affhand-love never comes wrang to me. (Sings.)

O, LOVE's a bitter thing to bide,

The lad that drees it's to be pitied;

It blinds to a' the warld beside,
And maks a body dilde and dited;
It lies sae sair at my breast bane,
My heart is melting saft an' safter;
To dee outright I wad be fain,

Wer't no for fear what may be after.

I dinna ken what course to steer,
I'm sae to dool an' daftness driven,
For ane sae lovely, sweet, an' dear,

Sure never breath'd the breeze o' heaven;

O there's a soul beams in her ee,

Ae blink o't maks ane's spirit gladder,
And ay the mair she gecks at me,

It pits me aye in love the madder.

Love winna heal, it winna.thole,

You canna shun't even when you fear it ;

An' O, this sickness o' the soul,

'Tis past the power of man to bear it!

And yet to mak o' her a wife,

I couldna square it wi' my duty,

I'd like to see her a' her life
Remain a virgin in her beauty;

As pure as bonny as she's now,

The walks of human life adorning ;

As blithe as bird upon the bough,

As sweet as breeze of summer morning.
Love paints the earth, it paints the sky,
An' tints each lovely hue of Nature,
And makes to the enchanted eye
An angel of a mortal creature.

THEODORE.

Exquisite-mighty good, really-Why, Hogg, Velluti's a joke to you.

TICKLER.

Very well indeed, James. Pass the bottle, Mullion-and Macrabin-why what are you about, Macrabin?

MACRABIN.

Mr Hogg, may I crave a bumper ?

SHEPHERD.

Wi' right good wull.-Gentlemen, nae skylights-the Advocate's toast.

MACRABIN.

In rising, sir, upon this occasion, I may safely assure you, that I do not leave my seat without very considerable agitation. I do not allude, sir, to that agitation which is now convulsing Ireland-that agitation which a dastardly minister of a degraded crown vainly hoped to extinguish for ever by truckling to that treason, which it was his bounden and sacred and most im perative and holy duty, sir, as a man, and a Christian, and a Briton, to have trampled-No, sir, I allude to nothing of this nature, however in itself momentous. My business at present is nearer home. I allude, sir, in a word, to that internal agitation which a modest individual may easily claim credit for harbouring within his bosom of bosoms, at the moment when he rises to address himself to such an assemblage of intellect, of genius, and of virtue, as I now behold congregated around this festive board. (Hear, hear.) Sir, we live in extraordinary times. A great crisis is indubitably on the anvil. The clouds, my lords, are thickening around the horizon of Great Britain-they are conglomerated in portentous and inevitable gloom; and the awful, the appalling, the irresistible, and most important burst already quivers in the balance. Every symptom, sir, conspires to give omen and indication of the approaching horrors. The GREAT UNKNOWN is no more. Those dark, and atrocious, and altogether unjustifiable suspicions, to which I need not more particularly allude, disturb no longer the midnight pillows of Mrs Grant, Mrs Thomas Scott, and Mr George Forbes. (Hear, hear.) The private accounts of the Corporation of London are openly demanded in the Parliament of England. (Hear, hear.) A son is born unto the Mandarinthe lamentable story of Lord Londonderry and the coal-tax need not detain us here. Mr Jeffrey is Dean-(Hear, hear.)-Mr John Tait is Sheriffdepute of Clackmannan and Kinross. The dissolution of the Ottoman Empire in Europe, the utter ruin of the wilful king, the demolition, in other words, of the Siljukians, Atabeks, Kharismians, and Turks, who have so long been in possession of the præfecture of the East, as typified by the little increasing horn, is at hand. (Hear! hear!) Mr George Bankes has been defeated at Cambridge, and the sixth vial is on the very eve of being poured out on the great river Euphrates. (Hear! hear!) The friend of Caroline and the second of Dunearn, is actually in the cabinet, and rumours are rife of Althorp, and Graham, and Stanley, and even-shall, I utter the degrading fact?— of Sir James Mackintosh. (Hear! hear! hear!) Young Gibb sleeps with his father-the Battle of Waterloo is forgotten in the coming thunders of the Battle of Armageddon. Spitalfields are deserted. Paisley is full of woe. Sir Masseh Manasseh Lopez sold Westbury to the Right Honourable Robert Peel, for the enormous sum of six thousand pounds sterling. (Hear! hear!) Birmingham is acquitted and remains with Captain Ives. A great iron mine has just been opened at Orebro, in Sweden-the progress of the lead mines in the dominions of the Catholic King, is alarming in no trifling degree to Lord and Lady Stafford, who have advanced three hundred thousand to the Marquis of Anglesea-Captain Basil Hall's travels are stereotyped-Lord Lyndhurst is mentioned for Grand Mogul !-Mrs Thomas Peel has been refused a ticket to the great ball at Almacks!-(Hear! hear!)-The Rev. Edward Irving has been refused admission to the General Assembly of the Kirk of Scotland-Mr Trotter of Ballendean has been in vain proposed for Provost-Metternich trembles at the announcement of a personal rencontre with Arthur the Great-Lord Ellenborough advertises his villa at Putney in the columns of The Morning Post-Sir William Rae is talked of for a shelf-Sir Henry Halford is in daily attendance at Bushy-The King appeared at Ascot Races in a brown hat-Mr Galt has returned at this very moment from Canadaand Mr Thomas Fretley's letters have shaken the Court of Chancery to its centre-Lord Cringletie's interlocutor-Lord Mackenzie's ad avisandum-the silence of L. E. L.-and the dulness of the John Bull during the last fortnight-these, sir, are signs of the times to which I shall merely point your attention. (Hear! hear!) On the whole, I think it will not be disputed, that I have made out a very triumphant case-the issue is with you. But, I venture to propose a bumper, fully relying upon your candour-I venture to propose a bumper, which, under existing circumstances, I am sure you

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