ROBERT BURNS’s “Dumfries Volunteers.”

Shade of BURNS, loquitur:—­

O, rantin’ roarin’ JOHNNY BURNS,
My namesake—­in a fashion,
You do my Scots the warst o’ turns
Sae stirrin’ up their passion. 
Whence come ye, JOHNNY?  Frae the Docks? 
Or frae the County Council? 
Sure Scots can do their ain hard knocks;
We take your brag and bounce ill! 
Fal de ral, &c.

Does Cockneydom invasion threat? 
Then let the louns beware, Sir! 
Scotland, they’ll find, is Scotland yet,
And for hersel’ can fare, Sir. 
The Thames shall run to join the Tweed,
Criffel adorn Thames valley,
’Ere wanton wrath and vulgar greed
On Scottish ground shall rally. 
Fal de ral, &c.

A man’s a man for a’ that, JOHN,
And ane’s as good as tither;
But that ship’s crew is fated, JOHN,
That mutinies in bad weather. 
Nae flouts to “honest industry”
Shall fa’ frae the Exciseman;
But ane who blaws up strife like this,
Wisdom deems not a wise man. 
Fal de ral, &c.

Scot business may be out o’ tune,
True harmony may fail in’t,
But deil a cockney tinkler loon
We need to rant and rail in’t. 
Our fathers on occasion fought,
And so can we, if needed;
But windy words with frenzy fraught
Sound Scots should pass unheeded. 
Fal de ral, &c.

Let toilers not, like snarling tykes,
In wrangling be divided,
Till foreign Trade, which marks our Strikes,
Steps in, and we’re derided. 
Be Scotland still to Scotland true,
Amang oursels united;
’Tis not by firebrands, JOHN, like you
Our wrangs shall best be righted. 
Fal de ral, &c.

The knave who’d crush the toilers doun,
And him, his true-born brither,
Who’d set the mob aboon the Crown,
Should be kicked out together. 
Go, JOHN!  Learn temperance, banish spleen! 
Scots cherish throne and steeple,
But while we sing “God save the Queen,”
We won’t forget the People. 
Fal de ral, &c.

* * * * *

A LENGTHY NOVEL.—­A Thousand Lines of Her Own, in 3000 vols., by the Authoress of A Line of Her Own, in 3 vols.  N.B.—­What a long line this must be to occupy three vols.!  A work of and for a lifetime.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID.

Small Stranger (to Master of the house).  “OW MY!  THE GENTLEMAN AS OPENS THE DOOR WILL GIVE IT YER, IF YER RING THAT BELL!”]

* * * * *

OPERATIC GOSSIP.