Again-good-humouredly to end our quarrel(Good humour should prevail !)

I'll fit you with a tale,

Whereto is tied a moral.

Once on a time a certain English lass

Was seized with symptoms of such deep decline,
Cough, hectic flushes, ev'ry evil sign,

That, as their wont is at such desperate pass,
The Doctors gave her over-to an ass.
Accordingly, the grisly Shade to bilk,

Each morn the patient quaff'd a frothy bowl
Of asinine new milk,

Robbing a shaggy suckling of a foal

Which got proportionably spare and skinny-
Meanwhile the neighbours cried "poor Mary Ann!
She can't get over it! she never can!"
When lo! to prove each prophet was a ninny
The one that died was the poor wetnurse Jenny.

To aggravate the case,

There were but two grown donkeys in the place;
And most unluckily for Eve's sick daughter,
The other long-ear'd creature was a male,
Who never in his life had given a pail
Of milk, or even chalk and water.

No matter: at the usual hour of eight
Down trots a donkey to the wicket-gate,
With Mister Simon Gubbins on its back,—
"Your sarvant, Miss,-a werry spring-like day,—
Bad time for hasses tho' ! good lack! good lack!
Jenny be dead, Miss, but I'ze brought ye Jack,
He doesn't give no milk-but he can bray.”

Sims the story,

ani n man self-glory,

Sme Sunts would sneer at Gubbins for his bludness

3 vint the better are their pious savs

Taling souls, than dry bee-baES,

Van de milk of human babess!

de *ainment,” reming to the "Comic" for 1838, T SOTAŠK E arrisement which announced

vili ny far have thht of the style Las V—what are issued every month

Esa a de avizers & stamped rumour De One' vinger the 1st of November, I var pringt news to atradict the report. I syncing & namesy & modesty, it would be the hi muky ir The Come to oder itself to public I nays me the polleson of that Splendid Annual," ze Lei lige f Lode : perairany when he is coming Nr va Imurinary Intellisinents, under the Especial Any f Er Ka Sadras Majesty, the Queen. If I van spate of the ranty and indelicacy of leading up to suut has how much of cards to be aware that a Court Jude svars the Board; and truly my poor ninth Thune vodi mike a very sorry show indeed near such an efert Nath of November:

You will be pissed therefore, to chain up your circulars,

NTT Pagraphs, kani your puffs, save your chalk, kustaal vuur becalsdes, restrain your bill-stickers, postpone your placard men and all the other immodesties that madest meni s ampelled to commit in this age of speaking

trumpets and gongs, till after the gorgeous solemnity. Then at such interval as may seem safe, my humble piece of work may be brought forward at Cornhill with some chance of attracting attention; but pray do not be rash: keep my "pretty pages" at a secure distance from the heels of the City Marshal's charger.

I think I told you that I had picked up some little German whims and oddities during a halt by the Rhine, and a march with a Prussian regiment. They are in a fair way for getting on box-wood and into paper and print; and you may therefore add them to my list of irons in the fire.

N.B. The fire is not only laid but lighted, in witness whereof I send you one of the sticks, that is to say, the blocks. I am, dear sirs, Yours truly,

THOMAS HOOD.

[In this year two papers, one on Fly-fishing, and one on Donkeyracing, appeared in Nimrod's "Sporting," a book now out of print, and not likely, I believe, to be republished. Permission to make use of these papers for the present Edition has been refused by the proprietor of that work. The reason of this may be discovered, by those curious in the matter, in the second chapter of the second volume of the Memorials, and in a letter of my father's, to be found on page 829 of the Athenæum for 1840-a letter of which I beg my readers by no means to omit the perusal.]

VOL. VI.

28

29

DREAM OF EUGENE ARAM,

The Murderer.

BY THOMAS HOOD, ESQ.

WITH DESIGNS BY W. HARVEY.

NEW EDITION.

LONDON:

E. MOXON, SON, & CO., DOVER STREET.