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"If you'd ameliorate our life,

Let each select from them a wife;
And as for nervous me, old pal,
Give me your own enchanting gal!"

Good Captain Reece, that worthy man,
Debated on his coxswain's plan:
"I quite agree," he said, "O Bill;
It is my duty, and I will.

"My daughter, that enchanting gurl,
Has just been promised to an earl,
And all my other familee
To peers of various degree.

"But what are dukes and viscounts to
The happiness of all my crew?
The word I gave you I'll fulfil;
It is my duty, and I will.

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"I have a widow'd mother who
Would be the very thing for you—
She long has loved you from afar,
She washes for you, Captain R."

The captain saw the dame that day—
Address'd her in his playful way—
"And did it want a wedding-ring?
It was a tempting ickle sing!

"Well, well, the chaplain I will seek,
We'll all be married this day week
At yonder church upon the hill;
It is my duty, and I will!"

The sisters, cousins, aunts, and niece,
And widow'd ma of Captain Reece,
Attended there as they were bid;
It was their duty, and they did.

WILLIAM S. GILBERT.

MR. MOLONY'S ACCOUNT OF THE

BALL

GIVEN TO THE NEPAULESE AMBASSADOR BY
THE PENINSULAR AND ORIENTAL COM-
PANY.

OH will ye choose to hear the news?
Bedad, I cannot pass it o'er:
I'll tell you all about the ball

To the Naypaulase ambassador.
Begor! this fête all balls does bate

At which I've worn a pump, and I Must here relate the splendthor great Of th' Oriental Company.

These men of sinse dispoised expinse, To fête these black Achilleses. "We'll show the blacks," says they, “Almack's,

And take the rooms at Willis's." With flags and shawls, for these Nepauls,

They hung the rooms of Willis up,
And deck'd the walls, and stairs, and halls,
With roses and with lilies up.

And Jullien's band it tuck its stand
So sweetly in the middle there,
And soft bassoons play'd heavenly chunes,
And violins did fiddle there.

And when the coort was tired of spoort,
I'd lave you, boys, to think there was
A nate buffet before them set,

Where lashins of good dhrink there was!

At ten, before the ball-room door

His moighty Excellency was;

He smoiled and bow'd to all the crowd-
So gorgeous and immense he was.
His dusky shuit, sublime and mute,
Into the doorway follow'd him;
And oh the noise of the blackguard boys,
As they hurrood and hollow'd him!
The noble Chair stud at the stair,

And bade the dhrums to thump; and he
Did thus evince to that Black Prince

The welcome of his Company.
Oh fair the girls, and rich the curls,

And bright the oyes you saw there, was;
And fixed each oye, ye there could spoi,
On Gineral Jung Bahawther was!

This Gineral great then tuck his sate,

With all the other ginerals
(Bedad, his troat, his belt, his coat,

All bleezed with precious minerals);
And as he there, with princely air,
Recloinin' on his cushion was,
All round about his royal chair

The squeezin' and the pushin' was.

O Pat, such girls, such jukes and earls,
Such fashion and nobilitee!

Just think of Tim, and fancy him

Amidst the hoigh gentilitee!

And I reckonized, with much surprise,
Our messmate, Bob O'Grady, there.

There was Baroness Brunow, that look'd
like Juno,

And Baroness Rehausen there,
And Countess Roullier, that looked peculiar
Well in her robes of gauze, in there.
There was Lord Crowhurst (I knew him first
When only Mr. Pips he was),
And Mick O'Toole, the great big fool,
That after supper tipsy was.

There was Lord Fingall and his ladies all,
And Lords Killeen and Dufferin,
And Paddy Fife, with his fat wife—

I wondther how he could stuff her in.
There was Lord Belfast, that by me past,
And seem'd to ask how should I go

there;

And the widow Macrae, and Lord A.
Hay,

And the marchioness of Sligo there.

Yes, jukes and earls, and diamonds and pearls,

And pretty girls, was spoorting there;
And some beside (the rogues!) I spied

Behind the windies, coorting there.
Oh, there's one I know, bedad, would show
As beautiful as any there;

There was Lord De L'Huys, and the Porty- And I'd like to hear the pipers blow,

geese

Ministher and his lady there;

And shake a fut with Fanny there!
WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY.

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NOTES

EXPLANATORY AND CORROBORATIVE.

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fortunes. Robert Burns.

Page 3.-HOME, SWEET HOME!-The following when his wife had been fretting over their misadditional verses to the song of "Home, Sweet Home!" Mr. Payne affixed to the sheet music, and presented them to Mrs. Bates in London, a relative of his, and the wife of a rich banker:

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And both, as we think of Columbia, exclaim,

66 Home, home, sweet, sweet home! There's no place like home! There's no place like home!" -Life and Writings of John Howard Payne, 4to, Albany, 1875.

Page 5.-THE COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT.The house of William Burns was the scene of this fine, devout, and tranquil drama, and William himself was the saint, the father, and the husband who gives life and sentiment to the whole. "Robert had frequently remarked to me," says Gilbert Burns, "that he thought there was something peculiarly venerable in the phrase, Let us worship God used by a decent, sober head of a family, introducing family worship." To this sentiment of the author the world is indebted for the "Cotter's Saturday Night." He owed some little, however, of the inspiration to Fergusson's "Farmer's Ingle," a poem of great merit.

-Burns's Poetical Works, Svo ed., Philada. Page 9.-MATRIMONIAL HAPPINESS. - Lapraik was a very worthy facetious old fellow, late of Dalfram near Muirkirk, which little property he was obliged to sell in consequence of some connection as security for some persons concerned in that villainous bubble, The Ayr Bank." He has often told me that he composed this song one day

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The

Page 12.-THE MARINER'S WIFE.-This most felicitous song is better known as There's nae Luck about the House." It first appeared on the streets about the middle of the last century, and was included in Herd's Collection, 1776. authorship is a matter of doubt. A copy of it, like a first draught, was found among the papers of William Julius Mickle, and the song has hence been believed to be his, notwithstanding that he did not include it in his own works. On the other hand, there has been some plausible argument to show that it must have been the work of a Mrs. Jane Adams, who kept a school at Crawford's Dyke, near Greenock; it is not, however, included in her volume of Miscellany Poems, published as early as 1734. Jane Adams gave Shakespearian readings to her pupils, and so admired Richardson's Clarissa Harlowe that she walked to London to see the author. Toward the close of her life she became a wandering beggar, died in the poorhouse of Glasgow on April 3, 1765, and was "buried at the house expense."-Notes and Queries, Third Series, vol. x.

Notwithstanding the weighty authority of Notes and Queries, I am inclined to ascribe its authorship to Jean Adam (not Jane Adams). Mickle never lived near a scaport, and never wrote anything as good as this poem. The remarkable statement that the poem does not appear in any of the published works of either claimant is, as far as it goes, an argument in favor of Miss Adam. She was poor, and probably published but one edition of her poems, which had a sale so small that the industrious Allibone does not mention her name in his Dictionary of Authors, while the scholarly translator of the Lusiad published many volumes of poems, some of which ran into several editions; and the fact that he never included "The Mariner's Wife" in any of them should determine the question of its authorship in her favor.

Page 13.-THE EXILE TO HIS WIFE.-Joseph Brennan (b. 1829, d. 1857) was a native of the north of Ireland. He joined the Young I-clan i party in 1818, and was one of the conductors of

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