Pick up the pieces! Let me wipe my eyes!
Oh Muse-lend me my scroll

To do it with, for I have lost
My wipe!

How came I here ?-what am I riding on?

Who are my fellow-passengers?

Ah, ha!

I recognize them now!

The Coach

The Box

The Driver

And the Cad

I'm on the Dilly, and the Dilly

Is on the road again

And now I see

That finger-post!
It saith

"To Oxford

Fifty-two miles."

And, hark! a chorus!

From all the joyous load,

Driver and cad, and all!

"We go," they sing—

TO OXFORD TO BE DOCTORED."

To be Doctored?

Then, wherefore

Are ye so cheerful?

I was not cheerful in my early days-
Days of my buoyant boyhood-

When, after inglutition

Of too much

Christmas pudding,

Or Twelfth cake saccharine,

I went, as we go now,

To be Doctored!

Salts!

Senna and Rhubarb!!

Jalap and Ipecacuanha!!!

And Antimonial Wine!!!! "Worm!

IDIOT!!

DONKEY! ! !"

Said the free-spoken Muse

"With them thou goest to be doctored, too, Not in medicine-but in Law

All these-and thou

Are going to be made

HONORARY

LL.D.s!

Behold!

And know thy company

Be thou familiar with them,

But by no means vulgar

For familiarity breeds contempt;
And no man is a hero

To his valét-de-chambre!

So ponder and perpend."

DERBY!

The wise, the meek, the chivalrous

Mirror of knightly graces

And daily dodges;

Who always says the right things

At the right time,

And never forgets himself as others

Nor changes his side

Nor his opinion

A STANLEY to the core, as ready

Of Marmion,

By SIR WALTER SCOTT!

DIZZY!

Dark-supple-subtle

With mind lithe as the limbs

Of ISHMAEL's sons, his swart progenitors— With tongue sharp as the spear

That o'er Sahara

Flings the blue shadow

Of the crown of ostrich feathers

As described so graphically

By LAYARD, in his recent book
On Nineveh!

With tongue as sharp

As aspic's tooth of NILUS,

That led thee-Worm

Thee, that art merely a writer

And a barrister,

Although a man of elegant acquirements,

A gentleman and a scholar-
Nay, F.R.S. to boot-

Into such high society,
Among such SWELLS,

And REAL NOBS!

Behold! ten live LORDS! and lo! no end

Of Ex-Cabinet Ministers!

Oh! happy, happy, happy,

Oh, happy SAM!

Say, is n't this worth, at the least

"Ten Thousand a Year!"

And these are all, to day at least—

Thy fellows!

Going to be made

LL.D.s, even as thyself

And thou shalt walk in silk attire,

And hob and nob with all the mighty of the earth;

And lunch in Hall

In Hall!

Where lunched before thee,

But on inferior grub,

That first great SAM-

SAM JOHNSON !

And LAUD, and ROGER BACON,

And CRANMER, LATIMER,

And RIDLEY,

And CYRIL JACKSON-and a host besides,

Whom at my leisure

I will look up

In WOOD'S

"Athence Oxonienses !"

Only to think!

HOW BLACKWOOD

Is honored!

ALISON! AYTOUN!!

BULWER!!!

And last, not least

The great SAM GANDERAM!!!!

Oh EBONY!

Oh MAGA!

And oh

Our noble selves!

"A BOOK IN A BUSTLE."

A TRUE TALE OF THE WARWICK ASSIZES. BY THE GHOST OF

CRABBE.

PUNCH.

THE partial power that to the female race

Is charged to apportion gifts of form and grace,
With liberal hand molds beauty's curves in one,
And to another gives as good as none:
But woman still for nature proves a match,
And grace by her denied, from art will snatch.
Hence, great ELIZA, grew thy farthingales;
Hence, later ANNA, swelled thy hoops' wide pales;
To this we must refer the use of stays;
Nor less the bustle of more modern days.

Artful device! whose imitative pad
Into good figures roundeth off the bad-
Whether of simple sawdust thou art seen,
Or tak'st the guise of costlier crinoline-
How oft to thee the female form doth owe

A grace rotund, a line of ampler flow,

Than flesh and blood thought fit to clothe it with below!

There dwelt in Liverpool a worthy dame,

Who had a friend-JAMES TAYLOR was his name.

He dealt in glass, and drove a thriving trade

And still saved up the profits that he made,
Till when a daughter blessed his marriage bed,
The father in the savings-bank was led
In his child's name a small sum to invest,
From which he drew the legal interest.