ir Kit.

Then stepp'd a gallant 'squire forth,
Of visage thin and pale;
Lloyd was his name, and of Gang-hall,
Fast by the river Swale.

Who said he would not have it told,
Where Eden river ran,
That unconcern'd he should sit by--
"So, Sheriff, I'm your man."

Now when these tidings reach'd the room
Where the duke lay in bed,
How that the squire suddenly
Upon the floor was laid--

"O, heavy tidings!" quoth the duke,
"Cumberland witness be,
I have not any toper more,
Of such account as he."

Like tidings to Earl Thanet came,
Within as short a space,
How that the under sheriff too,
Was fallen from his place.

"Now God be with him," said the earl,
"Sith 'twill no better be;
I trust I have within my town,
As drunken knights as he."

Of all the number that was there,
Sir Bains he scorn'd to yield,
But, with a bumper in his hand,
He staggered o'er the field.

Thus did this dire contention end,
And each man of the slain
Was quickly carried off to bed,
His senses to regain.

God bless the king, the duchess fat,
And keep the land in peace!
And grant that drunkenness henceforth,
'Mong noblemen may cease.

And likewise bless our royal prince,
The nation's other hope,
And give us grace for to defy
The devil and the pope.

* * * * *

"_Cooke's unparalled Excellence!_"

"In characters new, and in characters old,
Cooke must be allow'd a matchless fine fellow;
For, act what he will, we are constantly told,
That in every part he is perfectly mellow!"

* * * * *

_Ambrose and his Dog._

BY W. HOLLOWAY.

The clock had struck the midnight hour,
And all the village slept,
Save Julia, listening to the shower
She, lonely, watch'd and wept.

For, ere the sun peep'd o'er the hill,
To town her Ambrose went;
And sure some unexpected ill
Must his return prevent!

What, though the wood he pass'd beside,
He needed nothing fear,
For honest Dobbin was his guide
And faithful Tray was there.

The heath was wild! the roads were bad;
'Twas dark and dreary too;
'Twas cold, but he was doubly clad,
And well the way he knew.

Thus while she ponder'd cl