THE OLD MASTERS TO THE NEW. FROM MICHAEL ANGELO, RAPHAEL, GIAN BELLINI and MORONI, TO SIR FRANCIS GRANT, President, and Messieurs the Academicians, May it please you to remember, from your REYNOLDS to your TURNERS, There are contrasts as likely to be provoked, on the one side as the other, 'Mong the crowds, who cram your fine new rooms till they're almost fit to smother, And among the selecter visitors to our good hosts, BoxALL and WORNUM, Who appreciate our beauties, or study, in hopes to learn 'em Contrasts between our respective walls, and the pictures to them confided "Twixt the lodgers to be provided for, and the lodging rooms provided: Contrasts, that can hardly fail to provoke somewhat odious com parisons, Between the old and young strongholds of Painting, and their garrisons. All this considered duly-though, as it is, we are thankful For elbow-room-since already we find they have filled our every rank full, And, spite of the new walls, some of us are hung closer than we like to be, We send you this as a warning that there's an Old Masters' strike to be. We won't stand your being lodged like kings-because you've had kings for supporters While we, your elders and betters, are in such inferior quarters: able. We have not been in the habit of sacking "the nimble shilling;" Our visitors have been welcome to us, free gratis, when they were willing: And probably, if we had made them pay, the balance at our bankers Would not have been what yours is-cash was ne'er one of our sheet anchors. But just let us remind you, and, through you, JOHN BULL your patron, That though there's a small run on our rooms, and on your rooms there's a great run, We are your masters, and shall be, and as such claim better lodgings, And will thank MR. LAYARD to give us them, without more delays and dodgings! Coming Events. MR. LAYARD recently assured the House of Commons that "both the crypt and the baptistery were complete, and were ready for the use of Members, if required." What does this portend? We can understand the attachment of some Members to the House being so strong as to lead them to wish to be buried in the Crypt, but we confess that so long as the Church of England remains the Established Church of the land, we have no desire to hear of our Representatives joining the Baptist persuasion, and going in batches, headed, it may be, by MR. GATHORNE HARDY and MR. BERESFORD HOPE to undergo the rite of public immersion. DEAR MR. PUNCH, THE GREAT "NO!" I. House of Commons. self the responsibility of having cried out "No," upon the occasion on WITH your usual kindness and chivalry, you took upon yourwhich you rhymed last week with such unequalled grace and wealth of diction. But it was "a way we had in the army" to fight our own battles, and you must please to state that it was your humble servant who gave that prompt response to my friend, MR. HARDY. Nevertheless, with thanks and admiration, believe me, Yours always, To Mr. Punch. MY DEAR COLONEL, J. S. COWELL-STEPNEY. (Formerly in the Coldstream Guards.) II. We are all frail, and even I myself have my moments of fragility. The temptation to allege that I had been the man to say the right thing at the right time was too much for me. In the state of innocency ADAM fell, and what should Falstaff or Punch do in the days of villainy? But I apologise to you, and hasten to declare that the Member who so properly cried "No" was not Mr. Punch, but COLONEL COWELLSTEPNEY, the veteran Liberal who worthily represents Carmarthen. Ever yours faithfully, MISTER PUNCH, OUR ship's just been paid off after a cruise of nigh four year and as that's a tidy spell of seeing nothing but salt water, and conversing in Chinouk with them Vancoover Island savages, I thought I'd better steer my course to have a look at London, and spin a yarn or two with some of my more civilised relations. Well, the first of 'em I hailed was my own brother BILL, as was on duty at the station, when our train came to its moorings. He's a policeman now, is BILL, and has growed out of all knowledge, leastways I'm blest if I'd have known him, for he 's growed a stubby beard and sort of toothbrushy moostarch, which he used to go as clean shaved about the mouth and chin as any sailor in the service. But hullo, JACK! says he, and hullo, BILL! says I; after which affecting welcome, BILL, I says, why who's your barber? So BILL he spun a longish yarn, and said as how moostarches were allowed him by his admiral, and how he'd parted company with and, though the boys they chaffed him cruel, he found his beard a wery his shaving brush and scraping iron for upwards of a month or more, great purtection from the weather, which to look at it you'd say was more imagination than literal true fact. Well, thinks I, me and my messmates we'd be thankful for the same, not alone because of our exposure to Nor' Easters, and at times when reefing torpsles they're sharp enough to cut one's throat, but you see as shaving aboard ship it isn't easy work exackly in a sea-way, when she's a rolling yardarm under, and unless your hands is steady and you lays hold of the end of it, the chance is that you slices a half inch off your nose. So I thinks as how we sailors we're the Sea Police, and, if Whitehall would serve us all the same as Scotland Yard, well all as I can say is we'd be grateful to the government, and we'd chuck our razors overboard and sing, O be joyful! I remain, Sir, yours respeckful to command, JACK BOWLINE. A RETREAT FROM THE MARRIAGE MARKET. Ar a time when marriage, owing to the cost of housekeeping and millinery, has become impossible for gentlemen of limited means, and the generality of young ladies are either eating their heads off or going out as governesses, Paterfamilias and Materfamilias will rejoice to hear of an opening for any pictorial talent their daughters may possess at The Female Gallery of Art," established at 104, Great Russell Street, Bloomsbury, "for the sale of works of art executed by ladies only." We hope to hear that this institution is really selling pictures, not painters, and shall then deviate from propriety of speech so far as to say, with reference to the latter, that gals will do well to try the abovenamed gallery. SIR WILFRID LAWSON'S PERMISSIVE PROHIBITORY BILL, Ir "People can't be made good by Act of Parliament," how can we have any faith in the Temperance that's Law's son? of no less than twelve Bishops. Was then, JEANNE DARC a lunatic? AN UNCANONISED MARTYR. No, no-a thousand times no. She had, without doubt, a fixed idea; On Friday, the 7th instant, according to a newspaper, was cele- but that idea was noble. What was she, then? I say a generous, a brated at Orleans the fete of the famous Maid of that ilk. Christmas sublime, a devoted enthusiast. Honour, immortal honour to the comes but once a year, and when it comes it brings a variety of demon-memory of the Maid of Orleans! She would not have been misunstrations. The same may, with a difference, be said of JEANNE DARC's derstood in the present day. We enjoy the happiness of living in the anniversary. The difference is chiefly that the latter has no pantomime civilisation of the nineteenth century, so fine a thing for France and performed in its honour; though JOAN OF ARC, just now, is the victim Humanity, except in those points which have been condemned by the of a burlesque at the Strand Theatre. It was, however, observed the Holy See, particularly in the last Encyclical and syllabus of the Holy Father." other day with the usual ceremony," Orleans was decorated with flags, the principal inhabitants of the vicinity were present, and "A large number of the Episcopal hierarchy took part in the festival; amongst them being the Archbishops of Rouen and Bourges, the Bishops of Beauvais, Poitiers, Chalons, Nancy, Verdun, Saint Dié, Blois, Troyes, Constantina, and lastly of Orleans. The civil and military cortége started from the bridge and arrived at eight o'clock at the Cathedral. The Mayor handed JEANNE'S standard to the ARCHBISHOP OF ROUEN, who pronounced a discourse." Which unfortunately is not reported. We can only imagine what his Grace of Rouen said. Perhaps something of this sort:-"We are here to celebrate the festival of a glorious heroine, martyr to patriotism. JEANNE DARC, what was she? A saint, a witch, a lunatie, or an impostor? To imagine her an impostor would be to insult France. If she had been indeed a saint, in the sense of the Church, the ecclesiastical authorities, with the predecessor of my venerable brother here present in the see of Beauvais, PIERRE CAUCHON, Would not have made the immense mistake of pronouncing her a witch, and causing her to be burnt alive. Let us draw a curtain over all that. As to witchcraft we well know that it is nothing more than a heretical superstition, condemned solely as such by the bull of POPE INNOCENT THE EIGHTH. This bull did not commit infallibity to any assertion of the medieval belief in witchcraft. As JEANNE DARC was no impostor, it follows that she could have been no witch, and CAUCHON and his colleagues-whom I will not call cochons-erred, it must be avowed, with a deplorable stupidity. It was the temporary aberration of a misinformed tribunal now reversed by the authority present here to-day "Ire Licet." not lively. But the mysterious explanation given by the new Member MR. PUNCH is glad of MR. HORSMAN's election, for the House is for Liskeard of the reason for his return smacks of the Cave of Trophonius, rather than that of Adullam. The Liberal majority was for the millionnaire, LYCETT, when down came the Tories like Cedron in flood, and seated MR. HORSMAN, but the election had nothing to do with LYCETT, or with Toryism either. We "Cave" in. Meller and Pochin. THERE were two nice Members for Stafford, I walked 'em both clean out of Stafford. BLACKBURN (Judge). THE SEASON OPENS WELL. HORSES are clever animals, but until the other day we were not aware that they could play cricket. It seems, however, that there has been a match at Lord's "between eleven colts of the South, with HEARNE, and eleven colts of the North with GRUNDY." AFTER A VISIT TO THE ACADEMY. THEN they all joined THE RUM AND MILK CURE FOR CLERGYMEN. CAN it be that the Right Reverend the BISHOP OF MANCHESTER in a Pyrrhic dance is acquainted with a certain celebrated matron named GRUNDY? It at the Garrick can hardly be otherwise; and the excellent Bishop appears to cherish a KING COPHETUA, very grave deference for that lady's criticisms of the personal habits of and QUEEN ESTHER, clergymen. So at least it would seem from the judgment reported as and DR. JOHNSON, below in the Times to have been, after mature deliberation, delivered and NELL GWYNNE, the other day for him by DR. BAYFORD, chancellor of his Lordship's and JOHN FOWLER, diocese, and one of his assessors at a court of inquiry respecting and the lovely RHо- allegations of drunkenness preferred against the REV. L. H. MORDUS, and the ARCH-DACQUE, for the last eighteen years perpetual curate and titular vicar BISHOP OF YORK, of Haslingden: was and ELECTRA, and SIR MOSES MONTE- "The charges were all dismissed on the ground that the evidence for the and GA- defence, on the whole, outweighed the evidence on the other side. At the FIORE, same time it was remarked, as a curious coincidence, and one evidently open THORNE HARDY, to misconstruction, that the defendant should have persisted in the use of such and HETTY, and a medicine as rum and milk, instead of adopting some remedy equally efficaCARDINAL WOL- cious and less equivocal. The conduct of two of the complainants was no SEY, and ANDRO- doubt open to comment, but in the case of the third there could be no possible MEDA, and DON reflection on the nature of the prosecution; there had been a clear case for QUIXOTE, and VA- inquiry, and under these circumstances each party should pay his own costs." NESSA, and WILLIAM FAIRBAIRN, But it was proved in evidence that MR. MORDACQUE'S medical and a sweet little attendant " had sanctioned a prescription of rum and milk for him, as maid all in white, he was in a weak and nervous state." Then who could possibly have with a flower in her suggested to Manchester's estimable prelate that the reverend gentlehand, which she man's persistence "in the use of such a medicine as rum and milk gave to MR. RAS- instead of adopting some remedy equally efficacious and less equivocal," SAM, who was a curious circumstance, and one evidently open to misconstrucfugitive, and hiding tion"? The openness of such a circumstance to misconstruction is in a great chimney not evident at all. MR. MORDACQUE could perhaps not have taken atter Culloden," while QUEEN MARY was "lighting the beacon any remedy equally efficacious with rum and milk for the cure of his to guide" the LORD MAYOR, attended by "a man in armour," across complaint; and rum is rum, nothing can be plainer: rum is a remedy Loch Coruisk in the Romagna, to "CELIA's Arbour" among the not equivocal at all, how rum soever. Nor would the circumstance Sierra Nevada Mountains, where JOHN SIMON and GRINLING GIBBONS, that he persisted in the use of rum and milk be at all curious, even if "Floating Down to Camelot" to "the Belvoir Hunt," stopped to he could have used any remedy that would have been equally efficaadmire some 66 Girls Dancing" in "Autumnal Showers," until a "Fire cious. He may prefer rum and milk to a remedy equally efficacious at a Theatre" (in "The Minstrel's Gallery"), obliged DR. HUME to but less agreeable. Then why should he not take rum and milk? Only leave "The Duke's Antechamber" and HERO (at Lucknow, with because MRS. GRUNDY says he mustn't. the Red Cross Knight), and join the Master of Trinity, that instant returned from hunting gazelles in the Pontine Marshes with MARTIN LUTHER, and off again immediately to a Christening in France" by the Prolocutor of the Convocation of Canterbury, accompanied by MRS. GEORGE MOORE and MLLE. HILDA DE BUNSEN, who were "letting the cow into the corn" on "The Ptarmigan Hill," while CATHERINE DE LORRAINE, on her way to "The Cattle Tryst," was urging JUDITH to assassinate GENERAL GREY busily engaged making cider with ROBERT BROWNING (both "Prisoners" being caught by the tide") in "The Swannery on Plymouth Breakwater, assisted by PROSERPINE, MISS ESDAILE, The Venerable BEDE, and MR. GLADSTONE, when the "Alarm of Invasion" was-"half-past seven, Sir!" and awoke to find I had been dreaming after a long, delightful, tiring day at the Royal Academy. A SONG FOR A SPEECH. (At a Liquor Law May Meeting.) Shall I stint myself to jackanapes' fare? Not in sooth if I know it, sage masters mine; Saving after good dinner, and with good wine. By the haunch, and the steak, and the brave sirloin. I trow not that ADAM drank ADAM's ale, Till when ADAM and Eve had no stronger beer; To run with aught better than water clear, With those herbs and that liquor yourselves regale- I TEACHERS ON WHEELS.-It is proposed that our less-paid Clergy should make their parish rounds on Velocipedes! No, no. Leaders mustn't be Wheelers. The good BISHOP OF MANCHESTER could have derived his ideas of the unsuitableness of rum and milk as a cure for a clergyman only from MRS. GRUNDY. Nobody else could have put them into his head. MRS. GRUNDY says all she can to restrict the liberty of the clergy in a great many things indifferent. She condemns a clergyman for smoking cigars, to say nothing of a cutty pipe, unless he smokes on the sly. For MRS. GRUNDY doesn't blame hypocrisy. She objects to a parson's taking a hand at whist, or standing up in a country-dance, or riding occasionally after the hounds. She prohibits him from wearing a pudding-bowl hat or a black-tie, or from growing a beard. A Curate is required by MRS. GRUNDY to lunch on a piece of plum-cake and a glass of currant-wine rather than on a biscuit and sherry. Rum and milk for a clergyman, even though taken medicinally, she calls a potation only less awfully improper than early purl of which liquor MRS. GRUNDY knows the ingredients. It is quite clear that the judgment of the respected BISHOP OF MANCHESTER touching the REV. MR. MORDACQUE in regard to rum and milk was, in fact, her judgment. A bad job this for the defendant, who, though acquitted, had, having employed SERJEANT PARRY and MR. ADDISON, to pay his own costs. In the defence of the abovenamed learned Serjeant's calumniated client, says the Times: "It was implied by some of the testimony that MR. MORDACQUE had been on the side of the Liberals at the North-East Lancashire Election." But whatsoever influence this fact may have had upon MR. MORDACQUE'S accusers, we may rest satisfied that it exercised none on his judge, whose sentence, in so far as it was a condemnation of rum and milk as an uncanonical remedy, may be safely presumed to have been the pure expression of the specifically clerical and perhaps pedagogical mind, dominated by MRS. GRUNDY. Rosy Philistine. "YA-AS, I DISCONTINUED SMOKING. I FOUND I COULD DO A PERCEPTIBLY LARGER AMOUNT OF WORK WITHOUT IT!" Sallow Artist. "EH! GAVE UP SMOKING FOR THE PURPOSE OF DOING MORE WORK!? WELL, THAT'S THE MOST EXTRAORDINARY REASON I EVER HEARD! 'GAD! THERE'S NO ACCOUNTING FOR TASTES!" THE BEST OFFERING TO O'CONNELL. "The remains of the Liberator were this day transferred from their temporary resting-place where they have reposed since 1847, when he died, with great pomp, to the tomb raised for him by national contribution in Glasnevin Cemetery."-Dublin News of May 14th. BEAR his bones, with all pomp, from the place they have kept For the Champion she loved, and her enemies feared. There's a time to note sharply, a time to pass by, Why gauge the alloy that was mixed with his gold? And he wrought to good end, and he fought till he won, Let us think of the warm heart, still open, at need, THE Royal Academy have accomplished great things-enclosed their Exhibition within handsome walls and their Catalogue in neat covers; revived the spirits of sculptors, and refreshed hungry and thirsty visitors; done honour to foreign painters, and done justice both to home and foreign art, by hanging pictures neither too high nor too low. Will they not undertake one more reform-label every picture and sculpture with the name of the artist and title of his work? How the weary would bless them! [Oh yes! Who'd buy our Catalogue? J. P. KNIGHT.] TO THE COURT NEWSMAN. WHEN the Court Circular gives the names of certain guests who "were honoured with invitations after dinner," are we to understand that they came in to dessert? PASSING THE TIME.-Going by a Clock. Printed by Joseph Smith, of No. 21. Holford Square, in the Parish of St. James, Clerkenwell, in the County of Middlesex, at the Printing Offices of Messrs. Bradbury, Evans, & Co., Lombard street, in the Precinct of White friars, in the City of London, and Published by him at No. 85, Fleet Street, in the Parish of St. Bride, City of London.-SATURDAY May 22, 1869. PUNCH'S DERBY PROPHECY. M "Heaven bless the King, Heaven bless the Faith's Defender, "When LADY STRANGE, tomime steed. Howbeit, all depends upon whether he be fugitive and vagabond. You can put money upon him, if you like, but you had better not, as it will all fall off as soon as he begins to move. A vagabond is usually a beggar, and here comes Y pensive pachyderms, one who loved a beggar-maid. King Cophetua, in Elysium, be proud, for DANIEL here we are again, wise MACLISE hath this year made thee an entity, or, for the better understanding of as an owl, merry as a young swells, a fact. But for the horse which is named after the affectionate king, kitten, and punctual as 1 affection him not hugely. Leontes, another king? I'fecks? Why that 's my bawthe Equinoxious Proces- cock. What, hast smutched thy nose? Mine honest friend, will you take eggs for sion. What fool in human money? Wonder not, BELINDA (are you there, sweet one? 'tis well) at these words form propagated the re--they come from out the play whence Leontes takes name, and no one heeds the port that Punch would appropriateness of a quotation: the point is to show that you are a scholar. Take have no prophecy this away Leontes, boy, pecunia on him were Perdita. But who is this? Ethus! And year? I should like to why his name? My friend Argus says that ETHUS was a swift Scottish King-what, prop a gate with him tied another king? I rather hold with my friend, LORD WINCHILSEA, who, as Lord of to it, and shy turmuts at the Manor of Wye, is ever ready with a good Because, that the name is muddled him till he cried peccory, from that of Ethon, one of the horses of the Sun. But if from the Greek for a which you may see at the custom, he is a custom I honour not in this observance. Exit tyrannus, Regum theological gardens any ultimus, and after Kings let us behold a Pretender, usually of a better blood than Sunday. No Prophecy! they. Come on, proud steed, and sun thyself in BELINDA's eyes, brighter than Sooner than give you Phoebus above-named. Well, what shall we say what shall we sing, but a none, he'd give you the Jacobite rhyme? Prophecy of DANTE, with notes by his sister ANN DANTE, whose name is on all the songs. But I forgive him at this Festival time. I dare say the idiotic report originated in the utter downfall, scrunch, and smash up of all the advertising prophets who beg for money before they predict. Look at their advertisements. How the fellows have all tailed off! Their small merit of coarse cheekiness (how different from the elegant badinage of your Punch!) is gone. Where be their chaff and slang and impudence now? A more melancholy set of beggars doesn't mendicantize. But let us not contemplate any of those wretched screws. Leave 'em in their sordid cribs. Here is Punch, the aristocratic, high-blooded, BR generous-minded, frankspeaking, affable Punch to the fore again, with the eyes of an eagle, the voice of a SANTLEY, and the smile of a Mephistopheles, sunning his white brow on the hill of Epsom, cooling his melodious throat with Moselle-cup, and smoking his one-and-threepenny cigar promiscuous and anti-pleonastic as ever. And how are you all? Pretty Robertish? That's right. And should a cloud of gloom perversely linger, Let us at once fling every care away In the enjoyment of this Derby Day! Do I know the Winner? There's a question! Does MR. DISRAELI know MR. GLADSTONE? Does an English dramatist know MR. JEFFS? Do the Siamese Twins know one another, or are they waiting to be introduced? Shall I chalk his name down your respected back, Sir? Or shall I whisper it to the violets in that sweetly gloved hand, BELINDA? I' faith, ye make me smile, you merry throng, as the marine-store keeper's placard has it. Let us take things easily. Festina lente-fast in Lent-but eat at Whitsuntide and afterwards, yea, and drink. Your healths! and may your rosy hours roll gently like perfumed bubbles into the abyss of Time. Do I know the Winner of the Derby? You make me give Echo a headache. Away to thy Boeotian Narcissus, sweet nymph of the Cephisus, I will call on thee thus rudely no more. And thou, well-instructed-in-classics BELINDA, smile not that BOB, reading this to thee, boggled over the river's name, doubtful of quantity. Yet do, for I like well to see thee smile, BELINDA. Thy health! That was a good story, well recollected by MR. SALA. the widow of the famous engraver, was old and well-nigh paralytic, a pert young gentleman once happened to speak in her presence of CHARLES EDWARD as 'the Pretender.' 'Pretender, and be d-d to you!' cried old LADY STRANGE, from her arm-chair. Was this masculine? No; it was but a burst of manliness." Lead on the noble beast, honoured boy. Merry it is in the good green wood-faith, we are musical to-day, but fine spirits are finely touched by a word, and here comes MR. MERRY's Belladrum. This is the people's idol. A cynic would say that I have said enough. But I have not. Bells and drums should be the harbingers of merriment. I say unhesitatingly that this horse will be beaten if his jockey flogs him. Martyrdom-if he is just in (which he will not be), his owner can call him JUSTIN MARTYR-dom, if he ever heard of that Christian Apologist. Perry Down is a name that looks like a joke, but is n't one. Howbeit, if you drank a glass of perry, it would be perry down, and being inside you, there is an opening for an industrious young joke about in-cider. But mind what I am going to say. Perry is made of pear-juice. Do you understand that? Very well, then, remember it. Here is Perry Gomez-no, Pero. Now, don't go generalising and jumping at conclusions, or you may come a cropper. What I said about the last horse by no means applies to this one. Pero may go down to Zero, yet be quicksilver still. Ha! Brown Ladas. He was a famous courier in classic days, and victor at the Olympic games-it is a good horse-name. He won the Convivial Stakes, and as Epsom is, if anything, a convivial meeting, that omen is good. Ride, Custance, ride! And this is the Drummer? Not handsome, assuredly, but give him the benefit of the proverb, and let him go, the rather that he can stay. Cometh the Duke of Beaufort to be again beaten by Belladrum, or comes he for vengeance? Dux means a leader, but some leaders are very heavy-look at the newspapers. Bosworth! He who there cried, (in 1485, BELINDA,) "A horse; a horse! my kingdom for a horse!" meant not a horse like this. Alpenstock. Methinks he should be good at getting up the hill-"whate'er he is, he shows a mountain mind." Lord Hawthorn is a new peer, I find him not in Debrett, but let him prove himself one of Nature's nobility, if he can. His name is of good odour-marked you, my BELINDA, how sweet was the scent of the blossoms? Master Whiffler may be a good boy, but the Derby is no child's play, and Ryshworth, good to look at, is not worth a rush, nor will he make one, ugly or pretty. De Vere, aristocrat, I fear me your manners have too much repose for the rough sport of the day. Border Knight, chivalry comes from cheval, no doubt, but we will mount the horse foaled of an acorn if you lead the charge to-day. Brennus comes, but not for conquest, nor is it at our weighing here that we throw a sword into the scale. The Egean! I want nothing from the Egean save Cos, whose lettuces are welcome to our salad, BELINDA. And so they have passed, like the years that have fled. Truly, as Bottom saith, I have an exposition of sleep come upon me. Nappiness is the best substitute for happiness. I would repose. Lead me to my carriage, and throw the handkerchief of Peace over the countenance of Virtue. I dream a dream, and I see a vision-horses there be, but no nightmares. What do I behold? Comes the dream through the gate of Ebony or Ivory? I see a mighty rush of horsemen upon glittering steeds, and the horsemen are gaily attired in all the colours of the rainbow, the various Iris, who came from Juno to cut the hair of the departing Queen of Carthage, see Virgil and other classical authors. Some of the horses are before, others, on the contrary, are behind. They shift their places, they change, they dodge, like unto the little black pig who ran about so that the negro could not count him. Ha! from the ruck there press forward a few, and they make fiercely for the goal-fiercely ply the riders whip and steel, and onward rush the maddening horses, yelled at by ten thousand voices of a madder public-one-two-three are in advance, and now four, and two yields to three, and one drops in rear of two, and four toils desperately for the third place, and now-now-all is over, and the winner of the Derby is Farewell, farewell, the voice you hear Has left its last Soft tones with you. The next must join the Starting cheer, And shout among the welshing crew. Horses, horses, produce your horses, and let the Great Prophet behold! H'm-A Rum Lot, yet things may be worse than rum-old rum. I detect merit under some of those silken skins. Be pleased to name the animals as they pass me, my dear MR. DORLING. I am glad to see you looking so well, MR. DORLING, and all your arrangements are as c'rect as your cards-can I give you higher praise? This quadruped is termed-what? Thorwaldsen. A great sculptor's name. A name to be reverenced. He who bears it should cut a pretty figure. Hallo, you scoundrel, give me that handkerchief! How dare you snatch it from At least he should cut out the running, and chisel many. The next? Rupert. a sleeping prophet, you irreverent rapscallion? I will contund you to a jelly, you My LORD DERBY hath won the name of RUPERT, but I debate much with myself tatterdemalion mooncalfwhether Rupert will win the Derby. Should he tumble down, we will playfully [Is about to rush from his carriage to wop the pickpocket, but is held back by call the feat a Rupert's drop. Vagabond. Let me look again. "Stick to your the coat-tails. pantomimes, vagabond," wrote JUNIUS to GARRICK, but this vagabond is no pan- Let me go, I say. I've told you the Winner a long time ago. [Exit in full chase. |