Likeways that I shall keep it. Wich I think it a 'ard case, I do,
This downing on Old Women!
'Owsomever, Mister Morley is
A long ways from his hobject yet. The House o' Lords, Mum, surely is
Most different from Jericho, it will not fall with shouting, Mum,
Nor yet no platform trumpets will not down it, there's no doubting, Mum.
Their tongues and loud Rad ram's-horns do their level best to win it, Mum.
But—they ain't got rid of Hus—not yet,—nor won't direckly-minute, Mum!
From the Birmingham Festival.—An eminent musician sends us this note:—Nothing Brummagem about the Birmingham Festival. Dr. Parry's oratorio, King Saul, a big success. Of course this subject has been Handel'd before; but the composer of King Saul, Junior, (so to be termed for sake of distinction, and distinction it has certainly attained,) need fear no com-parry-songs. Perhaps another title might be, "Le Roi Saul à la mode de Parry." (Private, to Ed.—Shall be much pleased if you'll admit this as a Parry-graph.)