All ass 3 NOWI I NACU un nead.

PEASEBLOSSOM—Mr M'CULLOCH.

the SCENES on any account.

Ruthvens, Printers, 69, Cowgate.

12

I

DEAR Cranstoun, you think yourself wondrously sly,
And are always cock-sure of escaping detection,
Yet I fear they'll in future to trust you be shy,
For you've managed the boobies with no circum-
spection.

You'll come into the House with the air of a saint,
And explain the thing off with a simper so bland,
With a growl Jemmy Gibson will gulp his complaint,
And e'en slighted Moncrieff won't refuse you bis
hand.

But tho' Gibson the Mastiff may swallow the sop, And the Terrier Moncrieff let you off with a bark, Do you think you away from their meeting could hop, Without waking the snifter of old Bawtie Clerk? And have you not heard it, or do you not know,

That The Colley, when once he is fairly in fume, Makes both mastiff and terrier appear but so so, With his stiff steady snarl and his pitiless gloom? Little Jeffrey the lap-dog, from under the stool, Will regard you askaunce with his wicked rat's eye, And though Frothie the Poodle's a good-natured fool, He'll snort while he dreams of your scornful go-by: And subjected, ye gods! to the pity of Tories, You would find to what market you've carried your pigs,

With what ease one faux-pas blights a partizan's glories,

And shudder to think of this cruel stove-greeting, Why signed you the puff, George, yet staid from the meeting?"

Edinburgh: Printed by J. Black.