ORIGINAL.

As-ye-Te-i-anp-o-et-sli-re Y-oun-g-li-ae-us-di-din-spi-re Wen-ye-ba-r-da-wo-Ke-i-sla-is Lo-ve-et-wi-nea-li-ket-op-ra-is So-i-lus-tri-ou-spi-din-th-o-u In-s-pi-re-thi-Te-ur-nv-ot-a-rin-ow &c. &c.

TRANSLATION.

  As the Teian poet’s lyre
  Young Lyaeus did inspire;
  When the bard awoke his lays,
  Love and wine alike to praise. 
  So, illustrious Pidding, thou
  Inspire thy tea-urn votary now,
  Whilst the tea-pot circles round—­
  Whilst the toast is being brown’d—­
  Let me, ere I quaff my tea,
  Sing a paean unto thee,
  IO PIDDING! who foretold,
  Chinamen would keep their gold;
  Who foresaw our ships would be
  Homeward bound, yet wanting tea;
  Who, to cheer the mourning land,
  Said, “I’ve Howqua still on hand!”
  Who, my Pidding, who but thee? 
  Io Pidding!  Evoe!

* * * * *

THE STATE DOCTOR.

A BIT OF A FARCE.

Dramatis Personae.

  RHUBARB PILL (a travelling doctor), by SIR ROBERT PEEL. 
  BALAAM (his Man), by COLONEL SIBTHORP. 
  COUNTRYMAN, by MR. BULL.

SCENE. Tamworth.

The Doctor and his Man are discovered in a large waggon, surrounded by a crowd of people.

RHUBARB PILL.—­Balaam, blow the trumpet.

BALAAM (blows).—­Too-too-tooit!  Silence for the doctor!

RHUBARB PILL.—­Now, friends and neighbours, now’s your time for getting rid of all your complaints, whether of the pocket or the person, for I, Rhubarb Pill, professor of sophistry and doctorer of laws, have now come amongst you with my old and infallible remedies and restoratives, which, although they have not already worked wonders, I promise shall do so, and render the constitution sound and vigorous, however it may have been injured by poor-law-bill-ious pills, cheap bread, and black sugar, prescribed by wooden-headed quacks. (Aside.) Balaam, blow the trumpet.

BALAAM (blows).—­Too-too-tooit!  Hurrah for the doctor!

RHUBARB PILL.—­These infallible remedies have been in my possession since the years 1835 and 1837, but owing to the opposition of the Cabinet of Physicians, I have not been able to use them for the benefit of the public—­and myself. (Bows.) These invaluable remedies—­

COUNTRYMAN.—­What be they?

RHUBARB PILL.—­That’s not a fair question—­wait till I’m regularly called in[1].  It’s not that I care about the fee—­mine is a liberal profession, and though I have a large family, and as many relations as most people, I really think I should refuse a guinea if it was offered to me.

    [1] Sir Robert Peel at Tamworth.

COUNTRYMAN.—­Then why doant’ee tell us?

RHUBARB PILL.—­It’s not professional.  Besides, it’s quite requisite that I should “feel the patient’s pulse,” or I might make the dose too powerful, and so—­