She thus may blind the Major's mind
In mock-heroic strife,

But let a bout at war break out,

And where's the soldier's wife,
To take his kit and march a bit
Beneath a broiling sun?
Or will she cry, "My dear, good-by,
I cannot bear a gun!"

If thus she dotes on army coats,
And regimental cuffs,
The yeomanry might surely be

Secure from her rebuffs;

But when I don my trappings on,

To follow Captain Dunn,

My carbine's gleam provokes a scream "I cannot bear a gun!"

It can't be minced, I'm quite convinced, All girls are full of flam,

Their feelings fine and feminine

Are nothing else but sham;
On all their tricks I need not fix,
I'll only mention one,

How many a Miss will tell you this,
"I cannot bear a gun!"

TRIMMER'S EXERCISE,

FOR THE USE OF CHILDREN.

HERE, come, Master Timothy Todd,

Before we have done you'll look grimmer; You've been spelling some time for the rod, And your jacket shall know I'm a Trimmer.

For I'll have you to know I'm a Trimmer.

This morning you hindered the cook,

By melting your dumps in the skimmer; Instead of attending your book,

But I'll have you to know I'm a Trimmer.

To-day, too, you went to the pond,

And bathed, though you are not a swimmer And with parents so doting and fond

But I'll have you to know I'm a Trimmer.

After dinner you went to the wine,

And helped yourself—yes, to a brimmer; You couldn't walk straight in a line,

But I'll make you to know I'm a Trimmer.

:

You kick little Tomkins about,

Because he is slighter and slimmer; Are the weak to be thumped by the stout? But I'll have you to know I'm a Trimmer.

Then you have a sly pilfering trick,

Your school-fellows call you the nimmer,— I will cut to the bone if you kick!

For I'll have you to know I'm a Trimmer.

To-day you made

game at my

back :

You think that my eyes are grown dimmer, But I watched you, I've got a sly knack! And I'll have you to know I'm a Trimmer.

Don't think that my temper is hot,

It's never beyond a slow simmer;

I'll teach you to call me Dame Trot,

But I'll have you to know I'm a Trimmer.

Miss Edgeworth, or Mrs. Chapone,

Might melt to behold your tears glimmer;

Mrs. Barbauld would let you alone,

But I'll have you to know I'm a Trimmer.

THE FOX AND THE HEN.

A FABLE.

Speaking within compass, as to fabulousness I prefer Southcote PIGROGROMITUS.

to Northcote.

ONE day, or night, no matter where or when,

Sly Reynard, like a footpad, laid his pad Right on the body of a speckled Hen, Determined upon taking all she had;

And like a very bibber at his bottle,

Began to draw the claret from her throttle; Of course it put her in a pretty pucker,

And with a scream as high

As she could cry,

She called for help - she had enough of sucker.

Dame Partlet's scream

Waked, luckily, the house-dog from his dream, And, with a savage growl

In answer to the fowl,

He bounded forth against the prowling sinner,
And, uninvited, came to the Fox Dinner.

Sly Reynard, heedful of the coming doom,
Thought, self-deceived,

He should not be perceived,

Hiding his brush within a neighbouring broom;

But quite unconscious of a Poacher's snare,
And caught in copper noose,

And looking like a goose,

Found that his fate had "hung upon a hare;” His tricks and turns were rendered of no use to

him.

And, worst of all, he saw old surly Tray

Coming to play

Tray-Deuce with him.

Tray, an old Mastiff bred at Dunstable,
Under his Master, a most special constable,
Instead of killing Reynard in a fury,
Seized him for legal trial by a Jury ;
But Juries Æsop was a sheriff then
Consisted of twelve Brutes and not of Men.

But first the Elephant sat on the body

I mean the Hen

- and proved that she was dead,

To the veriest fool's head

Of the Booby and the Noddy. Accordingly, the Stork brought in a bill Quite true enough to kill;

And then the Owl was called - for mark,

The Owl can witness in the dark.
To make the evidence more plain,
The Lynx connected all the chain.

In short there was no quirk or quibble
At which a legal Rat could nibble;