For the sail then beginning to pull and to haul,
Mr. and Mrs. Pringle;

Says the boatman-"You'll into the Thames both fall,

With other odd fish to mingle."

And into the river they sure enough roll'd

As soon as the waterman said it;

So out of hot water they got into cold,

For extremes then you'll give them some credit.

Wet souls.

Then the drags were procured in an instant, to find
Mr. and Mrs. Pringle;

Mrs. P. was brought up, but her spouse left behind;
She, in tears, cried-I'm lost, I'm left single.
At length the odd fish was lugg'd out, almost
drown'd,

Dispelling her fears as she said it:

So with nursing and kissing they speedily found That perversity gain'd'em no credit.

Loving souls!

MR. FROST AND MISS SNOW.

THOMAS HUDSON.]

[Tune-"Russian Dance."

ONE Mr. Frost was quite lost-led a miserable life, Like to die—and for why? 'Cause he couldn't get a

wife;

He was cold-but so bold-took ladies by the nose, Did offend-foe and friend-as you easy may suppose; At last the pure Miss Snow, she came down here below,

And in paying his addresses to her warn't a moment lost,

For morning, noon, and night, he stuck to her so tight, She consented that she would become the wife of Mr.

Frost.

I can speak, that a week, had scarcely pass'd away, When the sun, had begun, to shine forth every day; Mr. Frost, ardour lost, and she call'd herself a fool, For as the sun got warm-the love of Frost got cool. But Frost he did deny-and said, ""Twas all my eye, His love was as strong as ever, and her senses must be lost,

To hurt her feelings loath, he'd freely take an oath, He'd be true to her as long as she was true to Mr. Frost."

Words are vain, and 'tis plain his love had little strength,

And, oh, oh, 'gan to go, when the days had got more length;

For oh! law, Tommy Thaw came from the south one day,

And, 'tis said, did persuade Mrs. Frost to run away. Her heart had such a twist, that she could not resist Such melting moments, and by such a pressing lover cross'd;

He had so many charms, that she melted in his arms, So Tommy Thaw he ran off with the wife of Mr. Frost.

MISTRESS JUDY MINNIGIN.

ANONYMOUS.]

[Tune-" Barney Brallaghan."

'Twas late one night, I'm told,

When Pat, with whisky burning,

Along the road he roll'd,

And homeward was returning;
Resolved no more to roam,

The rain quite fast was falling,
But when that he got home,
He thus began his bawling:
"Ope the door,

Charming Mistress Minnigin;
Rain fast pour,

So pray let me in again.”

Says Judy, from within :

"Come sooner home you might, sir; I'll not let you in,

So late as this at night, sir."
"Oh yes, my darling, do,
I own it rather late is ;

See what I've got for you,
Besides some nice paratees."

"For you I've got a treat,

Ope the door, &c.

I've got some whisky, too, now;

A pig that you may eat,

All this I've got for you now. So haste and let me in,

Just like a drowned rat, too,

I'm wet quite through my skin,

And I've spoilt my Sunday hat, too."

Says Judy, "That I wont,

Ope the door, &c.

In here you'll not be poking;

Pray, my love, now don't

Think that I am joking.

For when you went away,

To come back you'd be scorning;

So now, my boy, you may

Keep outside till the morning."

"A jackass, too, I've got,

On it you may ride, too; When to church you trot,

Ope the door, &c.

I'll walk by your side, too.
A cat for you I've caught,
With young 'tis very big, too;
For two thirteens I've bought
A little guinea-pig, too."

Ope the door, &c.

"To Dublin, faith, I've been,
I call'd, too, at your mother's;
Brother Pat I've seen,

He's at the Cat and Snuffers."

Says Judy, "What you're at,
Your talking's all in vain, sir;
With your jackass, pig, and cat,
You may go back again, sir.'

Ope the door, &c.

Says Pat, "You may as well

Let me in, I pray, now;

News I've got to tell,

Ope the door, I say, now.
My love that you may taste,

I've lips with kisses to smack ye;
you don't make haste,

But

I've got a big stick to whack ye.”

Ope the door, &c.

SIC A WIFE AS WILLIE HAD. [ROBERT BURNS.]

WILLIE WASTLE dwalt on Tweed,

The spot they ca'd it Link umdoddie;
Willie was a wabster guid,

Cou'd stown a clue wi' ony boddy;
He had a wife was dour and din,
O Tinkler Maggie was her mither;
Sic a wife as Willie had,

I wadna gie a button for her.

She has an ee, she has but ane,
The cat has twa the very colour;
Five rusty teeth, forbye a stump,
A clapper tongue wad deave a miller;
A whiskin beard about her mo-
Her nose and chin they threaten ither.
Sic a wife, &c.

She's bow-hough'd, she's hein-shinned,
Ae limpin' leg a hand-braid shorter;
She's twisted right, she's twisted left,
To balance fair in ilka quarter;
She has a hump upon her breast,
The twin o' that upon her shouther.
Sic a wife, &c.

Auld baudrans by the ingle sits,
An' wi' her loof her face a-washin;
But Willie's wife is no sae trig—

She dights her grunzie wi' a hushion;
Her walie nieves like midden-creels,
Her face wad fyle the Logan Water;
Sic a wife as Willie had,

I wadna gie a button for her.

LORD CHARLES CLEVERLEY.

ROBERT B. BROUGH.]

[Tune-"The Charming Man.'
LORD CHARLES is the hope of the peerage;
No fears of a wreck need o'erwhelm
The passengers down in the steerage,

With men like Lord Charles at the helm.
A publisher's shop full of blue books
Is this budding senator's head;
He has also written a few books,

Much noticed, and some of them read.

He's travell'd o'er Europe and Asia.
Half-track'd to its sources the Nite.
(His work, "From Park-lane to Dalmatia,"
Was brought out in wonderful style.)
He's finished five books of a poem,

And acts of a tragedy four,

Which fortunate people, who know him,
Say Shakspeare will certainly floor.