that His Royal Highness must discharge his present bootmaker, and must buy his blacking at a new shop.

Will any man in his senses suppose that His Royal Highness will suffer himself to be thus dictated to by a subject, even though that subject be a Peer of the Realm ?"

The candidate for literary fame, it is hoped, will find nothing discouraging in these samples.-The Gentleman who has hitherto filled the situation with so much credit to himself, and advantage to his employers, is now at Boston, in North America, forging State Papers for the London Courier.-Any person who may answer this advertisement, will therefore be only wanted to furnish matter until that Gentleman's

return.

Application to be made to any of the Ministerial Printing Offices in the Strand.

IMPROMPTU.

[From the Morning Post, Aug. 13.]

A WAG, who had recently taken a wife,

Was ask'd by a neighbour what caused their strife,
As her beauty had been the sole cause of his liking?
Alas!" said the wag, "I have found her too striking !"
Gray's Inn, Aug. 7.

R. H.

ON A HASTY MARRIAGE BETWEEN A YOUNG
LADY AND A FOP.

[From the Morning Chronicle, Aug. 14.]

BELINDA, in her twentieth year,

Holds solitude such woe,

She'd rather lead a Monkey here
Than lead an Ape below.

A NEW

A NEW CHEVY CHASE,

ON A LATE MEETING, WHICH DID NOT AMOUNT TO A DUEL.

[From the Morning Herald, Aug. 17.].

GOD prosper long our Regent Prince,

And eke his subjects true,

That when our noble youths do wince,
No bloodshed may ensue!

Two Knights, as Chronicles do tell,
Did woo one Fair La-dy,
And so to loggerheads they fell
In mortal Jealou-sy!

For she was rich in lands, 't is said,

And had of pelf galore;

So, for all this, no costly maid
Was e'er so lov'd before!

So desp'rate grew this doughty twain,
Men swore it, who had seen 'em,
Impossible there should remain

One throat uncut between 'em!

The one was Kill-worth's Lord, I trow,
To couch a lance right willing,
Who never turn'd his back to foe

He thought was worth the Kill-ing.

Well'sley the other, nickna-med
Great De la Pole also ;

'Cause on his shoulders he'd a Head",

And two light heels below.

* A profound Etymologist has proposed to furnish us with a speculation upon the subject of what he calls transmutation of names; and we are sorry that we cannot afford him the sixteen columns which he kindly and modestly wishes to fill. We find, however, that he imputes many English surnames, which have the syllable Head in them, to that good old habit of patriotic katachresis, by which our ancestors endeavoured to read every language, as if it were English. Thus the dignified De la Pole of the Normans seemed to them to mean neither more nor less than Poll, and they thought themselves highly decorous when they turned this into Head,

Now

1

Now Killworth's Lord march'd out to fight,
And rob Dan Pole of breath;
Resolv'd to teach this waltzing Knight
The deadly Dance of Death;

Who, mounted on his dappled horse,
But slowly reach'd the plain,
In hope that, shaking hands across,
They might dance back again.

For on the Common he did say,
"A plain so green all o'er
Should not, on such a luckless day,
Be made one red *' with gore !"

They should have met at crow of cock,'
The time bold fighters like;
But where's the use of cock, or clock,
To one not prone to strike ?

Dan Pole now talk'd about a glove,
Which none could understand,
While Killworth rav'd about his love-
For the Fair Lady's hand!

'Mid this colloquium, peace I wot
Was seal'd by fates above;
So down from Wimbledon they trot,
Close friends as hand and glove!

The Lady Fair, of rich renown,

When told this truce was made, ›

That her just sentence might be known,-
Thus humorously said:

"Of bloodshed, then, I'm free from guilt,

(Who did not wish to win 'em ;) For not a drop could there be spilt,

If they had none within 'em!

I

"Making the green one red." The mis-reading of this passage in Shakspeare is well remembered. The true text and true sense have been restored, and the correction is highly valuable; but it would have been too much to have bad a practical illustration of it by reddening the green of Wimbledon Common,

"Now

"Now from my train each doughty Knight
Be banish'd speedily;

For love of Gold if they 'd not fight,
They'd not-for love of Me!"

So prosper long our Regent Prince,
And all his subjects true,

That when our noble youths do wince,
No bloodshed may ensue !

ON A DANCING POET, IN LOVE.
[From the Morning Chronicle, Aug. 13.]

IF W-l-ley's head has no more brains,
Than poetry his verse contains ;
If W-1l-ley's legs be deftly wise
In proving where his genius lies;
How fit, when all his suit advancing,
To rest the issue on his dancing!
For otherwise, could Pole succeed,
With such a Muse and such a head ?-
So W-11-ley P-e a-dancing goes,
And flirts away with all his toes,
And jigs so fine, and jigs so smart,
He'll dance his way into her heart,
And captivate her longing soul

As she whirls round her dancing Pole.
Then, Pole! where'er the Fair you meet,
Oh! shake your legs to show your wit;
Show her, in spite of nature's rigour,
Your only way to make a figure:
And while they cut and caper so,
Be sure you let the Lady know,
Your legs can cut more fine and true
Than e'er your wit was known to do.
Go-heed not what a rival feels,
And woo the Lady with your-heels!

See page 273.

GRIEVANCES

GRIEVANCES OF NOBODY..

TO THE EDITOR OF THE MORNING CHRONICLE

SIR,

[Aug. 17.]

I HAVE for a long time suffered greatly by the injustice of mankind; crimes and follies have been alleged against me by the very persons who asserted my innocence and my wisdom; and the reward of approbation has been withheld by those who in the same breath have confessed that my conduct was meritorious. Permit me humbly to specify a few of the grievances I have, thus far, patiently endured; and while, Sir, you cannot fail to observe the strange and ludicrous perplexity in which those who make free with my name are constantly involved, you will, I am convinced, feel disposed to admit that I am an object of compassion, and, at least, do me the favour to represent my case to the public, by giving this address a place in one of the columns of your valuable Journal.

So various are the charges brought against me, and so numerous the instances of neglect and malignity I have experienced, that I must resign all idea of methodical arrangement in drawing up this appeal, and rely on your candour to forgive the confused and desultory air which my letter must necessarily assumè. Without further preface, I proceed to inform you that I stand accused

Of being in the secrets of Buonaparte, and of knowing what he will do next.

Of admiring the style and sentiments of the Courier and Morning Post.

Of believing that the Duke de Cadore did write what has been recently published in his name.

Of thinking that Bank of England Notes are not depreciated in value,

Of