Danced like Saint Vitus,

And Mr. Beak, thro' Powder's misbehaving,
Cut off his nose whilst shaving;

When suddenly, with words that seemed like swearing,

Beyond a Licenser's belief or bearing —

Broke in the stuttering, sputtering Mr. Gam

mage

Who is to pay us, Sir-he argued thus, "For loss of cus-cus-cus-cus-cus-cus-cus Cus-custom, and the dam-dam-dam-dam-damage?

Now many a person had been fairly puzzled
By such assailants, and completely muzzled ;
Baker, however, was not dashed with ease
But proved he practised after their own system,
And with small ceremony soon dismissed 'em,
Putting these words into their ears like fleas ;
"If I do have a blow, well, where's the oddity?
I merely do as other tradesmen do,

You, Sir, and you and you I'm only puffing off my own commodity!"

!

THE GHOST.

A VERY SERIOUS BALLAD.

"I'll be your second."-LISTON.

IN Middle Row, some years ago,
There lived one Mr. Brown;
And many folks considered him
The stoutest man in town.

But Brown and stout will both wear out,

One Friday he died hard,

And left a widowed wife to mourn
At twenty pence a yard.

Now widow B. in two short months
Thought mourning quite a tax;
And wished, like Mr. Wilberforce,
To manumit her blacks.

With Mr. Street she soon was sweet;
The thing thus came about:
She asked him in at home, and then
At church he asked her out!

Assurance such as this the man
In ashes could not stand;
So like a Phœnix he rose up
Against the Hand in Hand.

One dreary night the angry sprite Appeared before her view ;

It came a little after one,

But she was after two!

“Oh Mrs. B., oh Mrs. B.! Are these your sorrow's deeds, Already getting up a flame,

To burn your widow's weeds?

"It's not so long since I have left
For aye the mortal scene;
My Memory-like Rogers's,
Should still be bound in green!

"Yet if my face you still retrace
I almost have a doubt —
I'm like an old Forget-Me-Not,
With all the leaves torn out!

"To think that on that finger joint, Another pledge should cling;

Oh Bess! upon my very soul,

It struck like Knock and Ring.'

"A ton of marble on my breast Can't hinder my return;

Your conduct, Ma'am, has set my blood A-boiling in my urn!

"Remember, oh! remember, how The marriage 'rite did run,

If ever we one flesh should be,

Of perjured faith convict,

As ghostly toe can give no blow,
Consider you are kicked.

"A hollow voice is all I have,

But this I tell you plain,

Marry come up!

you marry Ma'am,

And I'll come up again."

More he had said, but chanticleer

The spritely shade did shock With sudden crow, and off he went, Like fowling-piece at cock!

ODE TO MADAME HENGLER,

FIREWORK-MAKER TO VAUXHALL.

Он, Mrs. Hengler! - Madame, I beg pardon
Starry Enchantress of the Surrey Garden!
Accept an Ode not meant as any scoff-
The Bard were bold indeed at thee to quiz,
Whose squibs are far more popular than his ;
Whose works are much more certain to go off.

Great is thy fame, but not a silent fame;
With many a bang the public ear it courts;
And yet thy arrogance we never blame,
But take thy merits from thy own reports.
Thou hast indeed the most indulgent backers,
We make no doubting, misbelieving comments,
Even in thy most bounceable of moments;
But lend our ears implicit to thy crackers!
Strange helps to thy applause too are not missing,
Thy Rockets raise thee,

And Serpents praise thee,

As none beside are ever praised by hissing!

Mistress of Hydropyrics,

Of glittering Pindarics, Sapphics, Lyrics,