G. Wilson humbly as before Resumes his thankfulness once more For favours formerly enjoy’d In, by the public, being employ’d. And hopes this public intimation Will meet with candid acceptation. The world knows well he makes _boots_ neatly And, as times go, he sells them cheaply. ’Tis also known to many a hundred Who at his late invention wonder’d, That polish’d _leather boxes_, _cases_, So well known now in many places, With _powder-flasks_ and _porter-mugs_, And jointed _leather arms_ and _legs_. Design’d for use as well as show, _Exempli gratia_ read below,[34] Were his invention; and no claim Is just by any other name. With numbers of production more, In leather ne’er performed before. In these dead times being almost idle, He tried and made a _leather fiddle_. Of workmanship extremely neat, Of tone quite true, both soft and sweet. And finding leather not a mute He made a _leather German flute_, Which play’d as well and was as good As any ever made of wood. He for an idle hour’s amusement Wrote this exotic advertisement, Informing you he does reside In head of Canongate, south side, Up the first wooden-railed stair, You’re sure to find his Whimship there. In Britain none can fit you better Than can your servant the _Bootmaker_. GAVIN WILSON. Notwithstanding that their day is past, occasional poetical advertisements are to be found in the papers now. They are, as a rule, infinitely bad, and the following is so very different from the general run of them, that we cannot help quoting it. Perhaps it was written after taking a dose of “Lamplough,” which is said on authority to have so many beneficial effects, that power over writers of verse in general, and the writer of the following in particular, may easily be included among them. So all minor poets had better study this, which we extract from a “weekly” a year or so ago:-- A DRINKING SONG. IF ever your spirits are damp, low, And bilious; you should, I opine, Just quaff a deep bumper of Lamplough-- Of Lamplough’s Pyretic Saline. The title is quaint and eccentric-- Is probably so by design-- But they say for disturbances ventric There’s nought like Pyretic Saline. Don’t bid me become exegetic, Or tell me I’m only a scamp low, If I can tell you more of Pyretic Saline manufactured by Lamplough. A second good specimen was published in a theatrical paper at the time when Mr J. S. Clarke, an American comedian, whose strength is in his advertisements, and who is well known this side the Atlantic, was playing in “The Rivals.” It is entitled SAVED. IT was a chill November eve and on the busy town A heavy cloud of yellow fog was sinking slowly down; Upon the bridge of Waterloo, a prey to mad despair, There stood a man with heavy brow and deep-lined face of care.