Saturday.—Arrested and conveyed to the Guard-room. Suppose I shall be released with a caution. At any rate, for the present, diary confiscated.
THE GARDEN OF SLEEP;
OR, "PUT THAT IN YOUR PIPE AND SMOKE IT!"
In the heart of fair Ind, which JOHN BULL hopes to keep,
Trade planted a Garden—a Garden of Sleep;
'Neath the hot Eastern sky—in the place of good corn—
It is there that the baneful white Poppy is born,—