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pupil of Tom Jones, but never before tried. They set to eagerly. After they had continued the contest with a determined spirit, for twenty minutes, Willis's strength failed him, and the odds were in favour of Harding, who, however, was severely beaten. The ring was at this time broken by the friends of Willis, in order, as it was supposed, to give him time to recover his strength. The expedient, had the desired effect; for he met his man afterwards with redoubled vigour; when the horse-dealer, after the battle had lasted half an hour, was beaten nearly to a mummy, and, in the hiddy phrase, had both his eyes closed up.

On Saturday the 27th inst. three pitched battles were fought on Sheperton Common, near Chertsey, in the county of Surry. Notwithstanding the distance from town, an immense concourse of people were present, many of whom were distinguished amateurs. The first pair who entered the lists were the Game Chicken, and Cart, a noted Birmingham man. The comba tants fought for a purse of 50 guineas: the battle lasted thirty minutes, during which twenty-five severe rounds were fought. The Chicken evinced, throughout the contest, the most consummate skill and science, and was declared the victor, without having experienced so much as a scratched face. Cart is a powerful and athletic man, but proved himself a complete novice in the art.Tom Belcher and Jack O'Donnel were the next that set to, for a purse of twenty guineas. The former displayed great dexterity and knowledge in the pugilistic art, and gave many admirable proofs of his excellent bottom: the latter likewise fought in a most gallant manner for a few rounds; but, towards the terinination of the battle, which

lasted fifteen rounds, he, according to the boxing phrase, shewed the white feather and gave in, when it was supposed he had the best of it. The business of the day concluded about three o'clock, with a battle between Dutch Sam and Brittain, a Bristol man, once an opponent of Belcher. A more gallant battle than this is not recorded in the annals of pugilism. The odds changed on each side alternately during the contest. Dutch Sam, however, was declared conqueror, after fighting thirty rounds, in such a style as had not been equalled since the fighting days of Dan Mendoza.

A GENTLEMAN, who not long since brought home with him from the East a sum of money amounting to two hundred and sixty thousand pounds, is stated to have lately lost the whole of it at the gamingtable. A friend remarking to him on the folly of his proceeding-he replied "d-n it, never mind, it is only another seven years voyage!”

A REPRIEVE was received by the Under Sheriff of Norfolk for six poachers, who were capitally convicted at the last Thetford Assizes, of firing at the gamekeepers of Lord Sheffield. All of them have wives, and among them 20 children.

A FELLOW who goes about the streets of the metropolis balancing a large pole, was lately entertaining the multitude in St. George's Fields, when, having lost the balance, while conveying the huge piece of wood from his forehead to his chin, it slipped off his hand into his mouth, and drove in several of his front teeth; at the same time falling among the crowd, laid a number of his admirers sprawling others, thinking he had let the pole fall by design, attacked him in a body, and beat him most unmercifully.

POETRY.

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We'll shew those heroes, who our rights condemn,

That we can rule the reins, and govern them;

For in gay Goldfinch, while I had my sport,

I thought no modern beau was more the sort;

Conceiv'd myself a charming dashing blade,

A man of ton-eh, dam'me! who's afraid? In public places, fit to shine and sport, With beauty's charms to flirt and pay my court;

Through the box-lobby, mellow, blythe, and reeling,

I'll shew my wit and sentimental feeling; VOL. XXVI. No. 151.

Out-roar the play'rs in dialogue and

singing,

And hear my voice through all the boxes ringing.

A 'nt this delighful, frolicksome, and smart,

Enough to conquer any woman's heart? With cash and spirit for the world's career, I'll have my name in all the clubs ap

pear;

At whist, and faro, I'll my shiners stake, And seven's the main shall through the dice-box shake.

Then how I'll sport my curricle and po nies,

Drive out ma chere amie, or friendly cronies;

I'll shake my noddle, and I'll crack my lash,

Geeho my nags, through thick and thin to

dash.

In coat with seven-fold cape, and coachman's art,

1

'Gainst ev'ry driver in the town I'll start, Taking the air through smoke and dirty

streets,

One is so happy at the crowd one meets; Whirl'd here and there, nor posts nor

people heeding,

For that's your sort-and shews your sense and breeding.

If such a life can give the men renown, Women may rival every rake in town; But, what a contrast to that warlike host, Volunteer guardians of our threaten'd

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AM SHAKESHANK set off, to see "I thought of Gibraltar, and shudder'd

SAM

London, 'tis said,

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with fear,

And, as I am not a great glutton,

When I found such a catching disorder

so near,

Thinks I-I'll not wait for the mutton.

"So I turn'd on my heel, and came back as I went,

Leaving town with more speed than I enter'd.

This is all that I know-though I don't much repent,

That to Whitechapel Church I have ventur'd.

LINES

J. M. L.

Supposed to be spoken by the President of the Ugly Club, at Charlestown, in America, on the occasion of two new Members being proposed.

"For, ecod, as I enter'd Whitechapel's PERMIT me, Gentlemen, to say,

wide road,

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As beauty here is scouted, Whilst ugliness alone has sway, And gracefulness is routed:

Two persons form'd to suit our plan, Are now propos'd as members, Whose noble faces, when you scan,

Will fan of mirth the embers.

Beneath his nose one seems to bend,
The other wants that useful friend;
A handle great and glowing;
No nose at all, Sirs, shewing.

You

Your votes for Mr. Snufflesnout,

And Mr. Nihilnosen,

Pray give-then sing, with merry shout, Hail ugly brothers chosen.

SONG.

HUNTING, LOVE, AND WINE.

SAY, what is wealth without delight,

'Tis dross, 'tis dirt, 'tis useless quite, Better be poor, and taste of joy, Than thus your wasted time employ.

CHORUS.

Then let a humble son of song,

Repeat those pleasures most divine; The joys that life's best hours prolong, Are those of hunting, love, and wine.

For hunting gives us jocund health, We envy not the miser's wealth, But chase the fox, or timid hare, And know delight he cannot share.

CHORUS.

Then home at eve we cheerly go, Whilst round us brightest comforts shine;

With joy shut in, we shut out woe,

And sing of hunting, love, and wine.

Mild love attunes the soul to peace, And bids the toiling sportsman cease; This softer passion's pleasing pow'rs, With bliss ecstatic wings the hours.

CHORUS.

It sooths the mind to sweetest rest,

Or savage thoughts might there entwine;

Thus he alone is truly blest,

Whose joys are hunting, love and wine.

'Tis wine exhilirates the heart, When sinking under sorrow's smart; 'Tis that can ease the wretch's woe, And heighten ev'ry bliss we know:

CHORUS.

But wine's abuse makes man a beast;
Be all with moderation mine:
Life will appear one endless feast,
While blest with hunting, love, and
wine.

J. M. L.

MR. PRINTER,

The following Verses were sent by a parish-clerk to a clergyman's lady of my acquaintance, in return for a Christmas entertainment which the clergyman always gives to his clerks, and to some of their friends. The poet himself has the misfortune of being deaf, but is-for deafness is now no impediment-a very great musician. To gratify him in that, his second passion, the lady had made him sit down and fix his car-trumpet on the sound-board of the piano-forte. A farther illustration of this enchanting poem is unnecessary. Yours, A. B. C.

HONNORED Madam I have send

These here few lines that I have
pend

To let you know what have been done
By Master ****** and you alone

We all did come I do protest
For to partake of your feast
And so we did its very true
On good rost beef and puding to

A Rib of beef waid twenty pound A leg of motten round and sound And there was than the nicest ham As Ever I had in my han

Twas nice good puding I declare And I believe I had my share And I believe you did not lock it For I had sum put in my pocket

And we had Beer and twas not Skenty
And Every thing was very plenty
And after I blow'd out my knoze
The Maidens put on their clean cloaths.

Then after we had sup'd and all
We was admited into hall

And their I heard the sweetest sound
Then Madam ask me to sit down

Then Madam play'd a tune so Rare
Like Angels singing in the ayre
And sumtimes twas like little birds
And they did sing all with out words

So when the singing all was done Back to the kichen we did come And their we sate a little while Till we at last begun to smile

For

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