"PUNSCH"
(In the Reading-room of the Bernerhof.)
Although thy name is wrongly spelt
Upon thy case, what joy I felt
To find a place where thou hast dwelt,
My Punsch!
Yet wit and wisdom, even thine,
Can't wake up Berne, where folks supine
All go to bed at half-past nine,
My Punsch!
What art or jokes could entertain,
Such sleepy people? True, they feign
It's later, for they say "halb zehn,"
My Punsch!
My German "Punsch," what gender thine?
They who accept, likewise decline,
"Das Weib" might feminine assign—
Die Punsch!
No matter which, if I behold
Thy pages, worth their weight in gold—
It's true they're more than three weeks old,
My Punsch!
AN ODD FELLOW OUT.—The Church-breaking thief (vide the Standard's provincial news) who was arrested at Oswestry (fitting that a Church-thief should have been arrested by Os-Westry-men—which sounds like a body of mounted ecclesiastical police), explained that he was a "monumental mason of Dublin." Perhaps the Jury will find him monu-mentally deranged.