They're only fit for window frames, and shutters, and street

doors,

David will paint 'em any day at Red Lions or Blue Boars-
Why Morland was a fool to him, at a little pig or sow-
It's really hard it an't hung up-I could cry about the
Cow!

But I know well what it is, and why-they're jealous of
David's fame,

But to vent it on the Cow, poor thing, is a cruelty and a shame.

Do you think it might hang by and by, if you cannot hang it now?

David has made a party up to come and see his Cow.

If it only hung three days a week, for an example to the learners,

Why can't it hang up, turn about, with that picture of Mr. Turner's?

Or do you think from Mr. Etty, you need apprehend a row ? If now and then you cut him down to hang up David's Cow? I can't think where their tastes have been, to not have such a creature,

Although I say, that should not say, it was prettier than Nature;

It must be hung-and shall be hung, for Mr. H———, I

Vow,

I dare n't take home the catalogue, unless it's got the Cow! As we only want it to be seen, I should not so much care, If it was only round the stone man's neck, a-coming up the stair.

Or down there in the marble room where all the figures

stand,

Where one of them three Graces might just hold it in her hand

Or maybe Bailey's Charity the favor would allow,
It would really be a charity to hang up David's cow.
We haven't no where else to go if you don't hang it here,
The Water-Color place allows no oilman to appear—

And the British Gallery sticks to Dutch, Teniers, and Gerrard Douw,

And the Suffolk Gallery will not do-it's not a Suffolk Cow: I wish you'd see him painting her, he hardly took his meals Till she was painted on the board correct from head to heels; His heart and soul was in his Cow, and almost made him shabby,

He hardly whipped the boys at all, or helped to nurse the babby.

And when he had her all complete and painted over red,
He got so grand, I really thought him going off his head.
Now hang it, Mr. Hilton, do just hang it any how,
Poor David, he will hang himself, unless you hang his
Cow-

And if it's unconvenient and drawn too big by half-
David shan't send next year except a very little calf.

I'M GOING TO BOMBAY.

"Nothing venture, nothing have."-OLD PRoverb.

"Every Indiaman has at least two mates."—

FALCONER'S MARINE GUIDE

My hair is brown, my eyes are blue,

And reckoned rather bright;

I'm shapely, if they tell me true,

And just the proper height;

My skin has been admired in verse,
And called as fair as day-

If I am fair, so much the worse,
I'm going to Bombay!

At school I passed with some éclât;
I learned my French in France;
De Wint gave lessons how to draw,
And D'Egville how to dance-
Crevelli taught me how to sing,
And Cramer how to play—
It really is the strangest thing—
I'm going to Bombay!

I've been to Bath and Cheltenham Wells,

But not their springs to sip

To Ramsgate-not to pick up shells

To Brighton-not to dip,

I've toured the Lakes, and scoured the coast

From Scarboro' to Torquay

But tho' of time I've made the most,

I'm going to Bombay!

By Pa and Ma I'm daily told

To marry now's my time,

For though I'm very far from old,

I'm rather in my prime.

They say while we have

any sun

We ought to make our hay

And India has so hot an one,

I'm going to Bombay!

My cousin writes from Hyderapot,
My only chance to snatch,

And says the climate is so hot,

It's sure to light a match

She's married to a son of Mars

With very handsome pay,

And swears I ought to thank my stars

I'm going to Bombay!

She says that I shall much delight
To taste their Indian treats,

But what she likes may turn me quite,
Their strange outlandish meats—.
If I can eat rupees, who knows?
Or dine, the Indian way,
On doolies and on bungalows-
I'm going to Bombay!

She says that I shall much enjoy-
I don't know what she means—
To take the air and buy some toy
In my own palankeens-

I like to drive my pony-chair,
Or ride our dapple gray-

But elephants are horses there
I'm going to Bombay!

Farewell, farewell, my parents dear,

My friends, farewell to them!
And oh, what costs a sadder tear
Good-bye, to Mr. M. I-

If I should find an Indian vault,

Or fall a tiger's prey,

Or steep in salt, it's all his fault,
I'm going to Bombay!

SONNET TO A DECAYED SEAMAN.

That fine new teak-built ship, the Fox,

A. 1.-Commander Bird,

Now lying in the London Docks,

Will sail on May the Third;
Apply for passage or for freight,
To Nichol, Scott, and Gray—
Pa has applied and sealed my fate-
I'm going to Bombay!

My heart is full-my trunks as well;
My mind and caps made up,

My corsets, shaped by Mrs. Bell,

Are promised ere I sup;

With boots and shoes, Rivarta's best,

And Dresses by Ducé,

191

And a special license in

my

chest

I'm going to Bombay!

SONNET TO A DECAYED SEAMAN.

HAIL! Seventy-four cut down! Hail, Top and Lop!
Unless I'm much mistaken in my notion,
Thou wast a stirring Tar, before that hop
Became so fatal to thy locomotion ;-
Now, thrown on shore, like a mere weed of ocean,
Thou readest still to men a lesson good,
To King and Country showing thy devotion
By kneeling thus upon a stump of wood!
Still is thy spirit strong as alcohol;

Spite of that limb, begot of acorn-egg-
Methinks--thou Naval History in one Vol.-
A virtue shines, e'en in that timber leg,
For unlike others that desert their Poll,
Thou walkest ever with thy "Constant Peg!"