The great speech of Grattan ;
Blow-up of a brig;

A dog taught to whistle;
The state whirligig;
Dan O'Connell's preamble

To civilize Pat,

Were mixed humble-jumble

In the Editor's Hat.

The devil grinn'd slyly,

"I'm waiting for takes-
Sir, the foreman has sent me-"
"Be off in three shakes;
There is no want of copy,

You impish young brat."
Here the E. D. turned out
The contents of his Hat.

ON BOOKS.*

Giveme

Leave to enjoy myself. That place that does
Contain my books, the best companions, is
To me a glorious court, where hourly I
Converse with the old sages and philosophers;
And sometimes for variety, I confer

With kings and emperors, and weigh their counsels;
Calling their victories, if unjustly got,

Unto a strict account; and in my fancy,
Deface their ill-placed statues. Can I then
Part with such constant pleasures, to embrace
Uncertain vanities? No; be it your care

To augment a heap of wealth: it shall be mine
To increase in knowledge.

From a play by Beaumont and Fletcher.

CUTTING DOWN AN ARTICLE.

A DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE EDITOR AND HIS AMANUENSIS.

Editor: LET me see. We have to fill up a vacant space of half a page. What articles have we to select from?

Amanuensis, (reading titles): "Lines written to King Charles the night after his execution." The Wars of the League, a tale of the Corn Laws." "Stanzas addressed to a young lady on her having asked the author whether he danced the Polka? when he said he did not, and she recommended him to take some lessons, when he replied he certainly would."

Editor: The title of that would have answered the purpose if it had been a little longer. Proceed.

"The Bell

Amanuensis: "Love and Madness, by one who has known the One, and is still suffering from the Other." Ropes, a Sequel to the Chimes." "A Sonnet."

Editor: Ah! let us hear the sonnet. That will give us the required quantity, if the quality happens to suit. Read it out, if you please.

Amanuensis, (reading):

66 TO THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.

Thou art a famous General indeed."

Editor: Every body knows that. Cut it out.

Amanuensis, (reading):

"To thee the wreath of glory is decreed."

Editor: Very true; but as that forms the rhyme to the previous line, it must come out.

Amanuensis, (reading):

"Not Hannibal, not Soult, not Marshal Ney,

Not Blucher, not Napoleon, not Desaix-"

Editor: The reader will never take the trouble to untie all those knots. Cut them out.

Amanuensis, (reading);

"Not Alexander when he fought and won,

Did do the noble deeds that thou hast done."

Editor: That not being as it were tied to all the other knots,

the first line must be omitted, and the second being dependent Cut it out.

on it, must go too.

Amanuensis, (reading):

"Who conquered on the field of Waterloo ?

Does not judicious echo answer 'You.'"

Editor: As echo could only answer 66 o-o," which means nothing, it would be more judicious on the part of echo to make no answer at all. Cut that couplet out.

Amanuensis, (reading);

"Great in the senate, greater in the field,

In neither wert thou ever known to yield."

Editor: Poetically pretty, but historically false. He yielded in the senate once or twice. Cut it out.

Amanuensis, (reading):

"A grateful nation prostrate at thy feet,

Comes forth with joy the warrior to meet."

Editor: When? How? Why? Where? What warrior? Cut it out.

Amanuensis, (reading):

"Mercy 'tis known has ever been thy creed,

Though none so well can make a people bleed." Editor: Capital! Excellent! An admirable article! Amanuensis: It's all cut out!!!

Edit r: Yes; but we can restore some of it. I have it. Begin with the first line, and end with the last, commencing the latter with "For" instead of "Though." Prefix as a title to the article" Epigram on General Tom Thumb," and read it to me."

Amanuensis, (reading):

"EPIGRAM ON GENERAL TOM THUMB.
"Thou art a famous General indeed,

For none so well can make a people bleed."

Editor: There !-That reads very well.

into type immediately.

Let it be put

[Exit Amanuensis. Editor falls asleep over a pile of correspondence.]

GEORGE CRUIKSHANK'S Table Book.*

Edited by G. A. A'Beckett.

THE NEWSPAPERS.

"A voice crying in the wilderness.'

THEY have a social tone;-
Thou art a politician, old man-say?
Thy eyes with night-shades are o'ergrown,
Thy hair dusted with grey.

"Yes," said that hoary father,

"I've watched the ministry go in and out, And shouted for my cause; but I can gather Not now sufficient strength to shout!

"And yet the cause seems dearer ! My little grandchild, who hath found a key So musical that I am proud to hear her, Reads out aloud to me.

"With a sweet kiss, she saith

The type is very like it was of yore;

And yet it seems so changed. With my last breath The papers shall be welcomed to my door."

Old man, thou sayest well;

From newspapers the world instruction borrows,
Truly as the Arabian Tales they tell
Of joys, albeit of sorrows.

"Tis pleasant sure,"

So Byron said, "to see one's name in print."
Ask the pale bankrupt, broken-hearted, poor,
If he admires its tint.

Yet here's a list of such,

Huddled within a corner. They have burned
Good oil perchance in toiling late and much,
Without reward returned.

In thy day-reading,

Didst never fancy that the ink looks pale
In such a list; as if 'twere an upbraiding
To tell the tale?

'Tis an idea;

And yet a kindly one, worthy a king;
Our fancy is the magical Medea

That will strange phantoms bring.

Here's a sad fool,

Who has found wit enough to rob his master;
Law offers him a short commandment rule,
And a cold prison plaster.

Didst never sigh,

When such a thief has trod the heavy wheel,
And think, he who hath gold enough to buy
Need never pick and steal.

Here's a poor wretch,

Who in his brother's blood hath dipped his hands;
He hath the lofty privilege to stretch
His neck in hempen bands.

"It is most fit"

(So runs the language of our penal code)
"That man should speedily his Maker meet❞—
And so it helps him on the road.

When the disciple's sword

Lopped the Jew's ear, and stained Christ's loving creed, Surely his Master erred when with his word

He blamed the deed!!

Here's a sweet maiden,

(O that such souls would learn life's wrongs to brave!) With blighted hopes, and shame, and anguish laden, Hath dug her own dark grave.