[Footnote 1:  Verses to be made upon a given name or word, at the end of a line, and to which rhymes must be found.—­W.  E. B.]

[Footnote 2:  Berkeley, Bishop of Cloyne, famous, inter alia, for his enthusiasm in urging the use of tar-water for all kinds of complaints.  See his Works, edit. Fraser.  Fielding mentions it favourably as a remedy for dropsy, in the Introduction to his “Journal of a voyage to Lisbon”; and see Austin Dobson’s note to his edition of the “Journal.”—­W.  E. B.]

[Footnote 3:  “Aeneid,” xi.]

[Footnote 4:  Qu.  Flaccilla? see Gibbon, iii, chap, xxvii.—­W.  E. B.]

[Footnote 5:  Who lived from 1650 to 1723, and wrote and published several books of travels in Greece and Italy, etc.—­W.  E. B.]

[Footnote 6:  See “The Rape of the Lock.”]

HELTER SKELTER; OR, THE HUE AND CRY AFTER THE ATTORNEYS UPON THEIR RIDING THE CIRCUIT

Now the active young attorneys
Briskly travel on their journeys,
Looking big as any giants,
On the horses of their clients;
Like so many little Marses
With their tilters at their a—­s,
Brazen-hilted, lately burnish’d,
And with harness-buckles furnish’d,
And with whips and spurs so neat,
And with jockey-coats complete,
And with boots so very greasy,
And with saddles eke so easy,
And with bridles fine and gay,
Bridles borrow’d for a day,
Bridles destined far to roam,
Ah! never, never to come home. 
And with hats so very big, sir,
And with powder’d caps and wigs, sir,
And with ruffles to be shown,
Cambric ruffles not their own;
And with Holland shirts so white,
Shirts becoming to the sight,
Shirts bewrought with different letters,
As belonging to their betters. 
With their pretty tinsel’d boxes,
Gotten from their dainty doxies,
And with rings so very trim,
Lately taken out of lim—­[1]
And with very little pence,
And as very little sense;
With some law, but little justice,
Having stolen from my hostess,
From the barber and the cutler,
Like the soldier from the sutler;
From the vintner and the tailor,
Like the felon from the jailor;
Into this and t’other county,
Living on the public bounty;
Thorough town and thorough village,
All to plunder, all to pillage: 
Thorough mountains, thorough valleys,
Thorough stinking lanes and alleys,
Some to—­kiss with farmers’ spouses,
And make merry in their houses;
Some to tumble country wenches
On their rushy beds and benches;
And if they begin a fray,
Draw their swords, and——­run away;
All to murder equity,
And to take a double fee;
Till the people are all quiet,
And forget to broil and riot,
Low in pocket, cow’d in courage,
Safely glad to sup their porridge,
And vacation’s over—­then,
Hey, for London town again.