NAPOLEON’S STATUE AT BOULOGNE.
[The bronze statue of Napoleon which was last placed on the summit of the grand column at Boulogne with extraordinary ceremony, has been turned, by design or accident, with its back to England.]
Upon its lofty column’s stand,
Napoleon takes his place;
His back still turned upon that land
That never saw his face.
THE HIEROGLYPHIC DECIPHERED.
The letters V.P.W. scratched by some person on the brow of the statue of Napoleon while it lay on the ground beside the column, which were supposed to stand for the insulting words Vaincu par Wellington, have given great offence to the French. We have authority for contradicting this unjust explanation. The letters are the work of an ambitious Common Councilman of Portsoken Ward, who, wishing to associate himself with the great Napoleon, scratched on the bronze the initials of his name—V.P.W.—VILLIAM PAUL WENABLES.
SONGS FOR THE SENTIMENTAL.—NO. 5.
“O fly with me, lady, my gallant destrere
Is as true as the brand by my side;
Through flood and o’er moorland his master he’ll bear,
With the maiden he seeks for a bride.”
This, this was the theme of the troubadour’s lay,
And thus did the lady reply:—
“Sir knight, ere I trust thee, look hither and say,
Do you see any green in my eye?”
“O, doubt me not, lady, my lance shall maintain
That thou’rt peerless in beauty and fame;
And the bravest should eat of the dust of the plain,
Who would quaff not a cup to thy name.”
“I doubt not thy prowess in list or in fray,
For none dare thy courage belie;
And I’ll trust thee, though kindred and priest say me nay—
When you see any green in my eye!”
TO POLITICAL WRITERS,
AND TO THE EDITOR OF THE “TIMES” IN PARTICULAR.
Mr. Solomons begs to announce to reporters of newspapers, that he has constructed, at a very great expense, several sets of new glasses, which will enable the wearer to see as small or as great a number of auditors, at public conferences and political meetings, as may suit his purpose. Mr. Solomons has also invented a new kind of ear-trumpet, which will enable a reporter to hear only such portions of an harangue as may be in accordance with his political bias; or should there be nothing uttered by any speaker that may suit his purpose, these ear-trumpets will change the sounds of words and the construction of sentences in such a way as to be incontrovertible, although every syllable should be diverted from its original meaning and intention. They have also the power of larding a speech with “loud cheers,” or “strong disapprobation.”
These valuable inventions have been in use for some years by Mr. Solomons’ respected friend, the editor of the Times; but no publicity has been given to them, until Mr. S. had completely tested their efficacy. He has now much pleasure in subjoining, for the information of the public, the following letter, of the authenticity of which Mr. S. presumes no one can entertain a doubt.
LETTER FROM THE EDITOR OF THE “TIMES.”
It is with much pleasure that I am enabled, my dear Solomons, to give my humble testimony in favour of your new political glasses and ear-trumpet. By their invaluable aid I have been enabled, for some years, to see and hear just what suited my purpose. I have recommended them to my protégé, Sir Robert Peel, who has already tried the glasses, and, I am happy to state, does not see quite so many objections to a fixed duty as he did before using these wonderful illuminators. The gallant Sibthorp (at my recommendation) carried one of your ear-trumpets to the House on Friday last, and states that he heard his honoured leader declare, “that the Colonel was the only man who ought to be Premier—after himself.”
If these testimonies are of any value to you, publish them by all means, and believe me.
Yours faithfully,
JOHN WALTER.
Printing House Square.
Mr. S. begs to state, that though magnifying and diminishing glasses are no novelty, yet his invention is the only one to suit the interest of parties without principle.
CON. BY THEODORE HOOK.
“What sentimental character does the re-elected Speaker remind you of?”—Ans. by Croker: “P(shaw!) Lefevre, to be sure.”
A CRUEL DISAPPOINTMENT.
We regret to state that the second ball at the Boulogne fête was simply remarkable from “its having gone off without any disturbance.” Where were the national guards?
UNSATISFACTORY CONDITION OF FOREIGN BEEF—(CAUTION TO GOURMANDS).
A corresponedent of the Times forwards the alarming intelligence that at the Boulogne Races the stakes never fill! Sibthorp, the gifted Sib, ever happy at expedients, ingeniously recommends a trial of the chops.
A TRIFLE FROM LITTLE TOMMY.
TO AN ELDERLY BEAUTY.
“Ah! Julia, time all tilings destroys,
The heart, the blood, the pen;
But come, I’ll re-enact young joy
And be myself again.
“Yet stay, sweet Julia, how is this
Thine are not lips at all;
Your face is plastered, and you kiss,
Like Thisbe—through a wall.”