THE APPARITION.

IN the dead of the night, when from beds that are turfy,
The spirits rise up on old cronies to call,

Came a shade from the Shades on a visit to Murphy,
Who had not foreseen such a visit at all.

"Don't shiver and shake," said the mild Apparition,
"I'm come to your bed with no evil design ;
I'm the Spirit of Moore, Francis Moore the Physician,
Once great like yourself in the Almanack line.

"Like you I was once a great prophet on weather,
And deemed to possess a more prescient knack
Than dogs, frogs, pigs, cattle, or cats, all together,
The donkeys that bray, and the dillies that quack.

"With joy, then, as ashes retain former passion, I saw my old mantle lugged out from the shelf, Turned, trimmed, and brushed up, and again brought in fashion,

66

I seemed to be almost reviving myself!

But, oh! from my joys there was soon a sad cantle-
As too many cooks make a mull of the broth-
To find that two Prophets were under my mantle,
And pulling two ways at the risk of the cloth.

"Unless you would meet with an awkwardish tumble,
Oh! join like the Siamese twins in your jumps;
Just fancy if Faith on her Prophets should stumble,
The one in his clogs, and the other in pumps!

284

"But think how the people would worship and wonder,
To find you hail fellows, well met,' in your hail,
In one tune with your rain, and your wind, and your thunder,
"Fore God,' they would cry, 'they are both in a tale'!"

And c

LITTLE O'P.-AN AFRICAN FACT.

IT was July the First, and the great hill of Howth
Was bearing by compass sow-west and by south,
And the name of the ship was the Peggy of Cork,
Well freighted with bacon and butter and pork.
Now, this ship had a captain, Macmorris by name,
And little O'Patrick was mate of the same;
For Bristol they sailed, but by nautical scope,
They contrived to be lost by the Cape of Good Hope.
Of all the Cork boys that the vessel could boast,

Only little O'P. made a swim to the coast;
And when he revived from a sort of a trance,

He saw a big Black with a very long lance.

Says the savage, says he, in some Hottentot tongue
"Bash Kuku my gimmel bo gomborry bung !"
Then blew a long shell, to the fright of our elf,
And down came a hundred as black as himself.
They brought with them guattul, and pieces of klam,
The first was like beef, and the second like lamb;
"Don't I know," said O'P.,

"what the wretches are at?

They 're intending to eat me as soon as I'm fat!"
In terror of coming to pan, spit, or pot,
His rations of jarbul he suffered to rot;
He would not touch purry or doolberry-lik,
But kept himself growing as thin as a stick.

The do

And th

And the

Xy jum

And tel

And say

Now Bil

With thic

Sure the

She came t

And stretch

Raven pr

With a soul

Stopped ber
Aast fairly

And Jeddry
Br Mumbo
That won't b

He will not
Le the Rho

Though broiling the climate, and parching with drouth,
He would not let chobbery enter his mouth,

But kicked down the krug shell, tho' sweetened with natt-
"I an't to be pisoned the likes of a rat!"
At last the great Joddry got quite in a rage,
And cried, "O mi pitticum dambally nage !
The chobbery take, and put back on the shelf,
Or give me the krug shell, I'll drink it myself!
The doolberry-lik is the best to be had,
And the purry (I chewed it myself) is not bad;
The jarbul is fresh, for I saw it cut out,
And the Bok that it came from is grazing about.
My jumbo! but run off to Billery Nang,
And tell her to put on her jigger and tang,

And with the Bloss to the man of the sea,
go

And say that she comes as his Wulwul from me."
Now Billery Nang was as Black as a sweep,

With thick curly hair like the wool of a sheep,
And the moment he spied her, said little O'P.,
"Sure the Divil is dead, and his Widow 's at me!"
But when, in the blaze of her Hottentot charms,
She came to accept him for life in her arms,
And stretched her thick lips to a broad grin of love,
A Raven preparing to bill like a Dove,
With a soul full of dread he declined the grim bliss,
Stopped her Molyneux arms, and eluded her kiss;
At last fairly foiled, she gave up the attack,
And Jeddry began to look blacker than black;
'By Mumbo! by Jumbo!-why here is a man,
That won't be made happy do all that I can;
He will not be married, lodged, clad, and well fed,
Let the Rham take his shangwang and chop off his head !”

CONVEYANCING.

O, LONDON is the place for all
In love with loco-motion !
Still to and fro the people go
Like billows of the ocean;
Machine or man, or caravan,
Can all be had for paying,
When great estates, or heavy weights,
Or bodies want conveying.

There's always hacks about in packs,
Wherein you may be shaken,
And Jarvis is not always drunk,
Tho' always overtaken ;

In racing tricks he 'll never mix,
His nags are in their last days,
And slow to go, altho' they show

As if they had their fast days!

Then if you like a single horse,
This age is quite a cab-age,
A car not quite so small and light

As those of our Queen Mab age;
The horses have been broken well,
All danger is rescinded,

For some have broken both their knees
And some are broken winded.

If you've a friend at Chelsea end,
The stages are worth knowing-
There is a sort, we call 'em short,

Although the longest going—

For some will stop at Hatchett's shop, Till you grow faint and sicky, Perched up behind, at last to find, Your dinner is all dickey!

Long stages run from every yard;
But if you're wise and frugal,
You'll never go with any Guard
That plays upon the bugle,

"Ye banks and braes," and other lays And ditties everlasting,

Like miners going all your way,

With boring and with blasting.

Instead of journeys, people now
May go upon a Gurney,
With steam to do the horses' work,
By powers of attorney;
Tho' with a load it may explode,
And you may all be un-done!
And find you're going up to Heaven,
Instead of up to London!

To speak of every kind of coach

It is not my intention; But there is still one vehicle

Deserves a little mention;

The world a sage has called a stage,
With all its living lumber,
And Malthus swears it always bears
Above the proper number.

The law will transfer house or land
For ever and a day hence,