n, bless me! you faint and droop,
As if you could hardly get through your soup.
Glass of punch, Sir, of course, with the work you've got,
You have surely been absent, Sir, have you not?

"Dear me, Mr. Deputy--look, Sir, look!
Excuse me; but you I must call to book:
Allow me to push you the boat across,
You are eating that bird, Sir, without bread-sauce!

"Here's capon, mind, gentlemen; here's black cock;
This wine, recollect, is peculiar hock:--
This is peacock--that's cygnet, yon gent before,
If you think you could manage a little more.

"Not feel quite the thing, don't your Lordship, eh?
Hallo! bring the brandy, you Sir, this way.
Now, my Lord, a small glass--just a toothful. No?
Well then, come, try the least drop of Curacoa."

But I've other duties, which I discharge
In warily steering the Civic Barge
Through St. Stephen's storms, whirlpools, rocks, and shoals,
Safe and sound, with a cargo--we'll say--of coals.

That MAJOR BENLOW--what--OW--OWSKI, he
Not half a Remembrancer ain't, to me;
And I gets a small pittance for all this here,
Which is under a couple of thousand a year.

* * * * *

"LEFT-OFF CLOTHES FOR THE COLONIES."

The "old clothes" fraternity are advertising very briskly for left-off
clothes for the Colonies, with a view, no doubt, to a sort of Holywell
Street aristocracy that some people are desirous of establishing in
Australia. Considering the many scamps that have attained to wealth at
the "diggins," and knowing the slavish precedence that is always
accorded to the possessors of gold, we may anticipate a peerage of
regular "roughs," should an "Upper Chamber" be established at the
Antipodes. The old clothes movement, in taking a colonial direction,
shows a sympathy with the contemplated exportations of aristocratic
distinctions to the New World, at a time when the Old World is
exhibiting leniency to throw aside its old worn-out habits. Among the
"left off clothes" we presume it will be a good speculation to include a
few "coats of arms" for the use of the Antipodean aristocracy.

* * * * *

THE ENGLISHMAN'S CASTLE.

"The Englishman's House (says the Proverb) is his Castle;" and so it is,
but then it is a castle which is subject to many attacks (such as the
House Tax, Poor Tax, &c. &c.), and which requires for its defence no end
of shot. The expenses of its support are fearful--