LIEUTENANT LUFF.

A COMIC BALLAD.

LL you that are too 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,

So he took to drinking hard!

Said he, "Let others fancy slops,
And talk in praise of Tea,
But I am no Bohemian,

So 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 taste

Did he indulge his drouth,
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!

Nowisn't that a good joke, I'd like to

To "hold the mirror up to vice"
With him was hard, alas!
The worse for wine he often was,
But not "before a glass."
No kind and prudent friend had he
To bid him drink no more,-
The only chequers in his course
Were at a tavern door!

Full soon the sad effects of this
His frame began to show,
For that old enemy the gout
Had taken him in toe!

know?

Finer key

remant!

Wiel, I showed

And join'd with this an evil came

Of quite another sort,—

For while he drank, himself, his purse
Was getting "something short.”

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

And drinking show'd him duplicates
Beforehand of the rest!

So now his creditors resolved

To seize on his assets;

For why, they found that his half-pay
Did not half-pay his debts.

But Luff contrived a novel mode

His Creditors to chouse;

For his own execution he

Put into his own house!
A pistol to the muzzle charged
He took devoid of fear;
Said he, "This barrel is my last,
So now for my last bier!"

Against his lungs he aimed the slugs,
And not against his brain,
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
IIas sent him to the worms!"

LOVE HAS NOT EYES.

F all the poor old Tobits a-groping in the street,
A Lover is the blindest that ever I did meet,
For he's blind, he's blind, he's very blind,—
He's as blind as any mole!

He thinks his love the fairest that ever yet was clasp'd,
Though her clay is overbaked, and it never has been rasp'd.
For he's blind, &c.

He thinks her face an angel's, although it's quite a frump's,
Like a toad a-taking physic, or a monkey in the mumps.

For he's blind, &c.

Upon her graceful figure then how he will insist,
Though she's all so much awry, she can only eat a twist!
For he's blind, &c.

He'll swear that in her dancing she cuts all others out,
Though like a Gal that's galvanised, she throws her legs about.
For he's blind, &c.

If he should have a letter in answer to his sighs,
He'll put it to his lips up, instead of to his eyes.
For he's blind, &c.

Then if he has a meeting the question for to put,
In suing for her hand he'll be kneeling at her foot.
For he's blind, &c.

Коп

Oh Love is like a furnace wherein a Lover lies,

And like a pig before the fire, he scorches out his eyes.
Till he's blind, &c.

A HAPPY NEW YEAR!

"If the affairs of this world did not make us so sad,
'Twould be easy enough to be merry.-OLD SONG.

HERE is nothing but plague in this house!
There's the turbot is stole by the cat,
The Newfoundland has eat up the grouse,
And the haunch has been gnawed by a rat!

It's the day of all days when I wish

That our friends should enjoy our good cheer;
Mr. Wiggins-our dinner is dished-

But I wish you a happy New Year!

Mr. Rudge has not called, but he will,

For his Rates, Church, and Highway, and Poor;

And the butcher has brought in his bill

Twice as much as the quarter before.

Little Charles is come home with the mumps,
And Matilda with measles, I fear;
And I've taken two sov'reigns like dumps-
But I wish you a happy New Year!

Your poor brother is in the Gazette,

And your banker is off to New York; Mr. Bigsby has died in your debt,

And the "Wiggins" has foundered near Cork. Mr. Merrington's bill is come back;

You are chosen to serve overseer; The new wall is beginning to crackBut I wish you a happy New Year!

The best dinner-set's fallen to the ground;
Te militia's called out, and you're drawn ;
Not a piece of our plate can be found,

And there's marks of men's feet on the lawn:

Two anonymous letters have come,

That declare you shall die like a Weare; And it may or may not-be a hum

But I wish you a happy New Year!

The old law-suit with Levy is lost;

You are fined for not cleansing the street.
And the water-pipe's burst with the frost,
And the roof lets the rain in and sleet.
Your old tenant at seventy-four

Has gone off in the night with his gear,
And has taken the key of the door-
But I wish you a happy New Year!

There's the "Sun" and the "Phoenix" to pay,
For the chimney has blazed like Old Nick;
The new gig has been jammed by a dray,
And the old horse has taken to kick.

We have hardly a bushel of small,
And now coal is extravagant dear;
Your great coat is stole out of the hall-

But I wish you a happy New Year!

The whole greenhouse is smashed by the hail,
And the plants have all died in the night;
The magnolia's blown down by the gale,

And the chimney looks far from upright;
And the deuce take the man from the shop,

That hung up the new glass chandelier!—
It has come, in the end, to one drop-
But I wish you a happy New Year!

There's misfortune wherever we dodge-
It's the same in the country and tɔwn;
There's the porter has burned down his lodge,
While he went off to smoke at the Crown.
The fat butler makes free with your wine,
And the footman has drunk the strong beer,
And the coachman can't walk in a line-
But I wish you a happy New Year!

I have doubts if your clerk is correct—
There are hints of a mistress at Kew,
And some day he'll abscond, I expect ;

Mr. Brown has built out your back view;
The new housemaid's the greatest of flirts-
She has men in the house, that is clear;
And the laundress has pawned all your shirts-
But I wish you a happy New Year!

Your "Account of a Visit to Rome"

Not a critic on earth seems to laud;

And old Huggins has lately come home,

And will swear that your Claude isn't Claude :

Your election is far from secure,

Though it's likely to cost very dear;

You're come out in a caricature

But I wish you a happy New Year!

You've been christened an ass in the Times,
And the Chronicle calls you a fool;

And that dealer in boys, Dr. Ghrimes,

Has engaged the next house for a school;