cessors once
Had sneaked them in a row.

In Willie's council was a lad
Well up to every quirk;
To keep him out of mischief long,
Dame Europe had her work.

To this smart youth Saint Willie
Did whisper his desire,
One night as they sat smoking,
Besides the kitchen fire--

"To get them flowers back again,"
Said Bissy, very low,
"Meet Louis somewhere on the quiet,
And try to cause a row.

"But mind the other deputies
Don't catch you on the hop,
For John and Joseph you must know
Your little game would stop.

"For Joseph he has not forgot
The day you warmed his rig;
And christian Denmark still thinks on
About his nice Slesvig."

"By your advice, my own Dear Mark,
I have been guided on,
But what about that man i't'bunk?"
(Pointing o'er to John.)

"He's very plucky too is John,
But yet he's very slow,
And perhaps he never may perceive
Our scheme about the row.

"But not another word of this
To anybody's ears,
The Dame she plays the list'ner,
I have my doubts and fears.

"So let us go upstairs at once,
I think it will be best,
And let us pray to Him above,
Before we go to rest."

So with a pious countenance,
His prayers as usual said,
But squinting round the room the while,
He spied an empty bed.

"What a pity that these empty stocks
Should be unoccupied;
Do you think my little cousin, Mark,
To them could be denied?"

"'Tis just the very thing," said Mark,
"Your cousin, sir, and you,
Would carry out my scheme first-rate,
One at each side of Loo."

The Dame being asked, did not object,
If he could pay the rent,
And had a decent character,
And Louis would consent.

"But I do object to this," says Loo,
"And on this very ground,
Willie and his cousins, ma'am,
They soon would me surround.

"They're nothing in my line at all
They are so near a-kin,
And so if I consent to this,
At once they'll hem me in."

"Oh! you couldn't think it, Master Loo,
That I should do you harm,
For don't I read my testament
And don't I sing my psalm."

"'Tis all my eye," said Louis, "both
Your testament and psalms;
You use the dumbbells regular
To strengthen up your arms.

"So take your poor relation off,
You pious-looking prig,
And open out Kit Denmark's box,
And give him back Slesvig."

"Come, come," says Mrs. Europe,
"Let's have no bother here,
You're trying now to breed a row,
At