Was it the growth of Continental notions,
Or was it the Metropolitan police-force
Prompted this blow at Laissez-faire, that free and
Easiest of doctrines?
Have you not read Mr. TOULMIN SMITH'S great work on
Centralization? If you haven't, buy it;
Meanwhile I should be glad at once to hear your
View on the subject.
CAB-DRIVER.
View on the subject? jiggered if I've got one;
Only I wants no centrylisin', I don't—
Which I suppose it's a crusher standin' sentry
Hover a cabstand.
Whereby if we gives e'er a word o' cheek to
Parties as rides, they pulls us up like winkin'—
And them there blessed beaks is down upon us
Dead as an 'ammer!
As for Mr. TOULMIN SMITH, can't say I knows him—
But as you talks so werry like a gem'man,
Perhaps you're goin in 'ansome style to stand a
Shillin' a mile, sir?
FRIEND OF SELF—GOVERNMENT.
I give a shilling? I will see thee hanged first—
Sixpence a mile—or drive me straight to Bow-street—
Idle, ill-mannered, dissipated, dirty,
Insolent rascal!
JUSTICE TO SCOTLAND.
[Footnote: In this poem the Scottish words and phrases are all
ludicrously misapplied]
[AN UNPUBLISHED POEM BY BURNS.]
COMMUNICATED BY THE EDINBURG SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CIVILIZATION IN
ENGLAND
PUNCH.
O mickle yeuks the keckle doup,
An' a' unsicker girns the graith,
For wae and wae the crowdies loup
O'er jouk an' hallan, braw an' baith.
Where ance the coggie hirpled fair,
And blithesome poortith toomed the loof
There's nae a burnie giglet rare
But blaws in ilka jinking coof.
The routhie bield that gars the gear
Is gone where glint the pawky een.
And aye the stound is birkin lear
Where sconnered yowies wheepen yestreen.
The creeshie rax wi' skelpin' kaes
Nae mair the howdie bicker whangs,
Nor weanies in their wee bit claes
Glour light as lammies wi' their sangs.