[At the Anti-Gambling Demonstration recently held in Exeter Hall, Sir RICHARD WEBSTER, the Attorney-General, said that it was supposed by many that it was impossible to enjoy athletic pursuits without becoming interested in a pecuniary sense.  He should therefore like to add, not for the purpose of holding himself up as an example, that, during his entire interest in sports of all kinds, he had never made a bet.]

  Ah! these are days when Recklessness, bereft of ready cash,
  Will strive to remedy the void by speculative splash;
  It is a salutary sight for Bankruptcy and Debt—­
  Our good Attorney-General who never made a bet.

  His interest in manly sports, an interest immense,
  Was ne’er degraded to a mere “pecuniary sense;”
  His boyhood’s love of marbles leaves him nothing to regret—­
  Our good Attorney-General who never made a bet.

  Next, when a youth, the cricket-bat he first began to wield,
  And “Heads or Tails?” re-echoed for the Innings through the field. 
  He sternly scorned to toss the coin, howe’er his friends might fret—­
  Our good Attorney-General who never made a bet.

  And when, an Undergraduate, he swiftly skimmed his mile,
  And comrades staked with confidence on him their little pile,
  He’d beg them not on his account in gambling ways to get—­
  This good Attorney-General who never made a bet.

  To play for money ruins whist:  and seldom can his Club
  Persuade him to put counters (coins for Zulus!) on the rub;
  He has been known for lozenges to dabble with piquet;
  He wasn’t Chief Attorney then, nor was it quite a bet.

  His wise profession’s ornament, he looks on all such games
  Far otherwise than RUSSELL does, than LOCKWOOD, HALL, or JAMES;
  For pure platonic love of play he stands, unequalled yet—­
  Our good Attorney-General who never made a bet.

  St. Stephen’s, too, thinks much of him; but ah! his soul it pains
  To know that Speculation o’er the lobby sometimes reigns;
  He’s chided OLD MORALITY and RANDOLPH and the set,
  Beseeching them on bended knees to never make a bet.

  We all are fond of him, in short, the Boxes with the Gods;
  That he’s a first-rate fellow we would gladly lay the odds. 
  But no!—­himself would veto that.  We must not wound our pet
  Precise Attorney-General who never made a bet.

* * * * *

THE ARISTOTELIAN TREASURE-TROVE.

  All have heard of “a Manuscript found in a Bottle,”
    But here is a waif with romance yet more fraught: 
  A newly-found treatise by old ARISTOTLE
    Is flotsam indeed from the Ocean of Thought. 
  Oh, happy discoverer, lucky Museum! 
    Not this time the foreigner scores off JOHN BULL. 
  Teuton pundits would lift, for such luck, their Te Deum! 
    No SHAPIRA, Punch hopes, such a triumph to dull! 
  May it all turn out right!  Further details won’t tire us. 
  We may get some straight-tips from that Coptic papyrus!