ets, so as to form a volume, under the title of
Poems supposed to be written by Lord Byron, and offer the
copyright to Mr. Murray; and in case of his refusing a
liberal sum, (that is, some-thing approaching to what he
pays the Noble Bard per Vol.) to publish them on his (the
author's) own account, and depend on the public for that
support and encouragement which their favourable decision
had already rendered pretty certain.

Now then comes 'the rub;' the blacking vender, hearing of
our poet's intention, files a bill in Chancery, praying for
an injunction to restrain the publication, and claiming an
exclusive right in the literary property: the poet, in
replication, denies having assigned or transferred the
copyright, and thus issue is joined. His Lord-ship, with his
usual extreme caution, where important rights are involved,
wished to give the matter mature consideration, and said,
"he would take the papers home, to peruse more attentively."
It will be recollected, that in the cause, respecting Lord
Byron's poem of Cain, his Lordship stated, that during the
vacation he had, by way of relaxation from business, perused
that work and Paradise Lost, in order to form a just
estimate of their comparative merits; and who knows but
during the present vacation, his Lordship may compare the
blacking sonnets with "Childe Harold," "Fare Thee Well,"
&c.; and that on next seal day, the public may be benefited
by his opinion as to which is entitled to the claim of
superior excellence; and how far the public are justified in
attributing the former to the noble author of the latter.

~~377~~~ "Then," continued Sparkle, "there was a rustic usually mounted
on a white hobby, with a basket on one arm, who used to invade the
northern purlieus of London, mumbling Holloway Cheesecakes, which from
his mode of utterance, sounded like 'Ho all my teeth ake.'"

"Ha! ha! ha!" vociferated Tallyho, unable to restrain his risibility.

"Numerous other instances might be adduced," continued Sparkle: "among
many there was a noted Pigman, whose pigs were made of what is called
standing crust, three or four inches long, baked with currant sauce in
the belly, who used to cry, or rather sing,--

'A long tail'd pig, or a short tail'd pig,' &c.

There was another singular character, who used to be called Tiddy-d