When my lord he came wooing to Miss Ann Thrope,
He was then a “Childe” from school;
He paid his addresses in a trope,
And called her his sweet bul-bul:
But she knew not, in the modern scale,
That a couple of bulls was a nightingale.
Blunders.
SLIPS OF THE PRESS.
Lord Brougham was fond of relating an instance which was no joke to the victim of it. A bishop, at one of his country visitations, found occasion to complain of the deplorable state of a certain church, the roof of which was evidently anything but water-tight; after rating those concerned for their neglect, his lordship finished by declaring emphatically that he would not visit the damp old church again until it was put in decent order. His horror may be imagined when he discovered himself reported in the local journal as having declared: “I shall not visit this damned old church again.” The bishop lost no time in calling the editor’s attention to the mistake; whereupon that worthy set himself right with his readers by stating that he willingly gave publicity to his lordship’s explanation, but he had every confidence in the accuracy of his reporter. The editor of an evening paper could hardly have had similar confidence in his subordinate when the latter caused his journal to record that a prisoner had been sentenced to “four months imprisonment in the House of Commons!” In this case, we fancy the reporter must have been in the same exhilarated condition as his American brother, who ended his account of a city banquet with the frank admission: “It is not distinctly remembered by anybody present who made the last speech!”
In a poem on the “Milton Gallery,” by Amos Cottle, the poet, describing the pictures of Fuseli, says:—