RICHARD ROSE,

Dealer in Marine Stores.

Gray’s-inn-lane.

* * * * *

LAYS OF THE LAZY.

  I’ve wander’d on the distant shore,
    I’ve braved the dangers of the deep,
  I’ve very often pass’d the Nore—­
    At Greenwich climb’d the well-known steep;
  I’ve sometimes dined at Conduit House,
    I’ve taken at Chalk Farm my tea,
  I’ve at the Eagle talk’d with Rouse—­
    But I have NOT forgotten thee!

  “I’ve stood amid the glittering throng”
    Of mountebanks at Greenwich fair,
  Where I have heard the Chinese gong
    Filling, with brazen voice, the air. 
  I’ve join’d wild revellers at night—­
    I’ve crouch’d beneath the old oak tree,
  Wet through, and in a pretty plight,
    But, oh!  I’ve NOT forgotten thee!

  I’ve earn’d, at times, a pound a week—­
    Alas!  I’m earning nothing now;
  Chalk scarcely shames my whiten’d cheek,
    Grief has plough’d furrows in my brow. 
  I only get one meal a day,
    And that one meal—­oh, God!—­my tea;
  I’m wasting silently away,
    But I have NOT forgotten thee!

  My days are drawing to their end—­
    I’ve now, alas! no end in view;
  I never had a real friend—­
    I wear a worn-out black surtout,
  My heart is darken’d o’er with woe,
    My trousers whiten’d at the knee,
  My boot forgets to hide my toe—­
    But I have NOT forgotten thee!

* * * * *

MATERNAL SOLICITUDE.

The business habits of her gracious Majesty have long been the theme of admiration with her loving subjects.  A further proof of her attention to general affairs, and consideration for the accidents of the future, has occurred lately.  The lodge at Frogmore, which was, during the lifetime of Queen Charlotte, an out-of-town nursery for little highnesses, has been constructed (by command of the Queen) into a Royal Eccalleobion for a similar purpose.

[Illustration:  FAMILIES SUPPLIED.]

* * * * *

WIT WITHOUT MONEY: 

OR, HOW TO LIVE UPON NOTHING.

BY VAMPYRE HORSELEECH, ESQ

CHAPTER II.

“A clever fellow, that Horseleech!” “When Vampyre is once drawn out, what a great creature it is!” These, and similar ecstatic eulogiums, have I frequently heard murmured forth from muzzy mouths into tinged and tingling ears, as I have been leaving a company of choice spirits.  There never was a greater mistake.  Horseleech, to be candid, far from being a clever fellow, is one of the most barren rascals on record.  Vampyre, whether drawn out or held in, is a poor creature, not a great creature—­opaque, not luminous—­in a word, by nature, a very dull dog indeed.