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TORY BOONS.

Air.—­“NORA CREINA”

  The Whigs they promised every day
    To cure the ills which did surround us;
  It should have been, “no cure, no pay!”
    For now we’re worse than when they found us. 
  The Tory clique at length are in,
    And vow that they will save the nation,
  So kindly give us, to begin—­
    Exchequer bills and ventilation. 
      Oh! the artful Tories dear,
        Oh! the dear, the artful Tories
      They alone perceive, ’tis clear,
        That taxes tend to England’s glories.

  The Whigs declared cheap bread was good;
    To satisfy the people’s cravings
  They tried to take the tax off wood—­
    Lord knows what might be done with shavings! 
  The Tories vow these schemes were wrong,
    And adverse to good legislation;
  Therefore, propose (so runs our song)—­
    Exchequer bills and ventilation. 
      Oh! the artful Tories dear,
        Oh! the dear and artful Tories;
      They alone perceive, ’tis clear,
        Taxes tend to England’s glories.

  The Whigs became the poor man’s foe,
    Mix’d ashes in his cup of sorrow;
  Nor thought the pauper’s “lot of woe,”
    Perchance might be their own to-morrow. 
  The Tories said they were his friend,
    That they abhorr’d procrastination;
  So give—­till next July shall end—­
    Exchequer bills and ventilation. 
      Oh! the artful Tories dear,
        Oh! the dear and artful Tories;
      They alone perceive, ’tis clear,
        Taxes tend to England’s glories.

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RECREATION FOR THE PUBLIC.

Sir Robert Peel seems impressed with the necessity of providing the citizens of London with additional parks, where they may recreate themselves, and breathe the free air of heaven.  But, strange as it may seem, the people cannot live on fresh air, unaccompanied by some stomachic of a more substantial nature; yet they are forbidden to grumble at the diet, or, if they do, they are silenced according to the good old Tory plan of

[Illustration:  OPENING A PARK FOR THE PEOPLE.]

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Colonel Sibthorp thinks he recollects having been Hannibal once—­long ago—­although he cannot account for his having been beaten in the Pun-ic war.

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THE LIGHT OF ALL NATIONS.