ment ?-I'm a rat-catcher-they'll let me vote ;-there's plenty of rats in parliament. What a crowded state the hustings are in. Aye, it's a hot canvass, as my wife says, when she takes the bag off the puddun. Sir, who do you give your vote for? Mr. Botherem. Why don't you wote for Sir Frederick Flambeau! I won't wote for he.-Why not? Why, I hates a man as goes and turns every thing into money. To what do you allude, sir? Why, sir, it's wery well known that Sir Frederick Flambeau last year accepted the Chiltern Hundreds, and how do I know whether he won't this year go and accept of thousands! Oh, what a kick-up, &c.

Queer notions to their good, the mob oft imbibe awry,
Each one suspects his neighbour of bribery;

Each thinks t'other cribs,

By planning, the dibbs,

And truth when asserted is thought to be fibs.
The mob on the hustings in numbers so gathers,
Each hat deck'd with gay ribbons and feathers;
Squibs fly about,

The unwash'd' shout,

Candidates bellow, and orators spout.

Spoken.] Ulloa! there's a cat thrown on the hustings. Pray, Mr. High Constable, what are we to consider that? A poll-cat, I should think. I hope Sir Frederick Flambeau will lose-I saw him in a cab, this morning, riding as if the old one was behind him, and I knew he'd be thrown out. I say, Tomkins, where's your father?-aint he coming to the poll? He would come, sir, but he's got no hat, and he says he won't come without one. Do you hear that, Mr. Botherem ?-send him yours. Certainly, poor man-hasn't he got a hat ?-here, run home to the poor man, and take him mine; my name's inside. Now then, silence for a speech from Sir Frederick Flambeau? Gentlemen, I rise to give you my congratulations, and to receivewhat's that? a rotten orange. See, there, somebody's thrown a cabbage at him. Gentlemen, allow me to declare that at this moment I feel too bad to pelt the man with oyster-shells. I feel convinced gentlemen, that from the patient manner you have listened to me, that this is the happiest day of my life.— Be quiet with them lettuces, will you. Gentlemen, this august assembly. August assembly-it's an April assembly, shame! -shame?-Gentlemen-order. Gentlemen, if I am selected, I shall strive to take the tax off spectacles. It is an imposition!—a sort of window tax :-spectacles are the windows of the eyes, people must be blind not to see through it. I shall

also strive to take off the tax on bald heads-'tis a disgrace to the land-'tis as bad as a poll-tax. People can't help being bald, gentlemen; no, I maintain that in many cases 'tis hereditary 'tis handed down from generation to generation, as an heir-loom. Gentlemen, I shall conclude by thanking you for the civility you have shown to me, and trust you will act exactly in the same way to my opponent.

Oh, what a kick-up, &c.

The row's universal, all o'er the metropolis,
Never was seen such ado with the populace;
Coaches and gigs,

Policemen and prigs,

All in some way are playing their rigs.
Candidate vowing if Parliament in he stirs,
He'll do his best to o'erthrow the ministers;

But when he's got your vote,

He'll soon change his note,

And like others before him, he soon turns his coat.

Spoken.] Gentlemen, do not vote for Flambeau ; he is rich -is not the man to feel for you.-What does the man of money care for you, your wives, or your children ?-Let us view the rich man, sitting on his recumbent sofa, with his velvet cap and gold tassel on his head-with his leopard-skin morninggown upon his back, and his bright scarlet red slippers on his feet, looking at the brightness of his fender and his fire-irons; drinking his best chocolate out of his best china, and stirring it with his silver tea-spoon.-He can care nothing for you; he walks in his orange groves, his shrubberies of cocoa-trees, and what does he care for them sleeping under a hay-stack?-He eats his wenison, and his currant-jelly sauce, and what does he care for them wot dines off bread and cheese ?-Now I comes to the man of poverty, that is, gentlemen, the man wot is poor; -he stands divested of worldly pomp ; he feels for all things,the worm and the hedge-hog excite his sympathy; he valks about upon the moor without a penny in his pocket, and he must feel for them wot can't pay coach hire.-He doesn't drink champagne and Burgundy, therefore he must feel for them wot drinks beer.-He doesn't dismiss turtle-soup, therefore he must feel for those wot dines off scrag of mutton. Wote for Botherem, he's a philanthropist-he feels, in the divine words of the inspired poet, for all women labouring with children, sick persons, and old age. Bravo! bravo! Here comes Mr. Quotem.-I'll interrupt him-he never says nothing of his own; -I'll tell him who he robs his ideas from. Gentlemen, I stand

before you to-day to say that party is the madness of many, for the gain of a few.' Ha! Pope, ha! Silence. Gentlemen, I stand for you all; for without you, what could be done

For a bold peasantry, their country's pride,
When once destroy'd, can never be supplied.'

Ha! Goldsmith! ha! Order! order! I shall mark you, sir, for the interruption :-Give me your card. There it is, sir. Hollo! what's this ?-[Reads. Smoky chimnies effectually cured.' Let me hear from you, sir. You shall, sir: when the wind's in the east, my chimney smokes, and then I'll send to you. I say, gentlemen, you're a set of noisy, rascally, a dirty, vile crew. Ha! that's his own at last. Bravo! I'm for universal sausages. Jontlemen, for the extraordinary attintion you've paid to me to-day, I'm sinsitively obliged, and if ever you come to Ireland, within a mile of my house, you may stay there as long as you like. Mr. M'Pringle, you promised me your vote for Botherem, and you've just given it to Sir Frederick Flambeau, and I suspect you of double-dealing. Upon ma conscienee, I never accepted one thing of Sir Frederick, but a hare. Bribery! And then it was so high, I couldn't eat it. Corruption.

THE RETORT; OR, TIT FOR TAT.

A SUPERCILIOUS nabob of the East,

Haughty and grave, and purse-proud, being rich,
A Governor or General at least,

I have forgotten which,

Had in his family a humble youth,

Who went to India in his patron's suite;

An unassuming body, and in truth

A lad of decent parts and good repute;

This youth had sense and spirit,

Yet with all his sense

Excessive diffidence
Obscured his merit.

One day at table, flush'd with pride and wine,
His honour proudly free, severely merry ;

Conceived it would be vastly fine

To crack a joke upon his Secretary.

'Young man,' said he, by what art, craft, or trade,

Did your good father earn his livelihood?'

'He was a saddler, Sir,' Modestus said,

'And in his line was reckon'd good.'

'A saddler, eh! and taught you Greek

Instead of teaching you to sew;

And pray, Sir, why didn't your father make
A saddler, Sir, of you?'

Each Parasite, as in duty bound,

The joke applauded, and the laugh went round.

At length Modestus bowing low,

Said, craving pardon if too free he made,
Sir, by your leave I fain would know,

Your father's trade.'

My father's trade?-Why, Sir, that's too bad,

My father's trade! Why blockhead art thou mad! My father, Sir, did never stoop so low,

He was a gentleman, I'd have you know;"

'Excuse the liberty,' Modestus said, 'I take;' With archness in his brow,

Pray, Sir, why did not then your father make, A Gentleman of you?'

JOHN ANDERSON.

JOHN ANDERSON my jo, John,
When we were first acquent;
Your locks were like the raven,
Your bonnie brow was brent;
But now your brow is beld, John,
Your locks are like the snaw:
But blessings on your frosty pow,
John Anderson my jo.

John Anderson my jo, John,

We clamb the hill thegither;
And mony a canty day, John,
We've had wi' ane anither:
But we maun totter down, John,
But hand in hand we'll go ;
And sleep thegither at the foot,
John Anderson my jo.

A BACHELOR IS HIS OWN MASTER.

I THINK I had better get married,
But before the point is carried,
I'll argue it pro and con.
If he meets with any disaster,
A bachelor is his own master,
He's accountable to none.
No wife, to add to the strife;
No sighing, fainting, and dying;
No row, promise, or vow;
Stay out without any rout;
Supper and tea, take the key.
For a bachelor,

A bachelor is his own master.

Spoken.] Liberty is delightful! and why should it be sacrificed for a woman? besides, what possible use have we for women at all A bachelor may go out, walk about, stay out, and no questions asked. If married, you must run about with your wife tied to ye, like a kettle to a dog's tail, clattering in one's ears, and treading on one's heels. If a man loses his wife, his friends will soon supply his loss, but let him lose any thing of value, and he'll see the difference. A bachelor may eat what he likes, drink what he likes, wear what he likes, and kiss who he likes. But a married man-only let him try the last!

A bachelor is his own master.

Yet I think I'd better get married,
For some so long have tarried,

They can't get a wife at all.
Once gouty or rheumatic,

Toothless or asthmatic,

Your chance of a wife is small.

Many joys, girls and boys,

Puddings, pies, kisses, and sighs,

Shirts aired, money spared,

Chaste embraces, pretty faces,
All right, if home at night,
And besides,

And besides, something nice for supper,

Spoken.] What man would live alone, when he might have a pretty, obliging, kind, gentle, loving woman to comfort him, and be cosey with? When a man has a wife, he has always buttons on his shirts, and never any holes in his stockings; besides, how