Please to remember the fifth of November, Gunpowder treason and plot; We know no reason, why gunpowder treason, Should ever be forgot! Holla boys! holla boys! huzza-a-a! A stick and a stake, for King George's sake, A stick and a stump, for Guy Fawkes' rump! Holla boys! holla boys! huzza-a-a! [Illustration: HENRY LEMOINE, The Literary and Pedestrian Bookseller and Author, _A well known_ Eccentric Character of the City of London.] [Illustration: ALL ROUND MY HAT I VEARS A GREEN VILLOW.] All round my hat I vears a green villow, All round my hat, for a twelvemonth and a day; If any body axes me the reason vy I vears it, I tells 'em that my own true love is far far away. 'Twas a going of my rounds, in the streets I first did meet her, Oh, I thought she vos a hangel just come down from the sky; SPOKEN.--She's a nice wegitable countenance; turnup nose, redish cheeks, and carroty hair. And I never knew a voice more louder or more sweeter, Vhen she cried, buy my primroses, my primroses come buy. SPOKEN.--Here's your fine colliflowers. All round, &c. O, my love she was fair, my love she was kind, too, And cruel vos the cruel judge vot had my love to try: SPOKEN.--Here's your precious turnups. For thieving vos a thing she never vos inclined to: But he sent my love across the seas, far far away. SPOKEN.--Here's your hard-hearted cabbages. All round, &c. For seven long years my love and I is parted, For seven long years my love is bound to stay. SPOKEN.--It's a precious long time 'fore I does any trade to-day. Bad luck to that chap vot'd ever be false-hearted, Oh, I'll love my love for ever, tho' she's far far away. SPOKEN.--Here's your nice heads of salary! All round, &c. There is some young men so preciously deceitful, A coaxing of the young gals they vish to lead astray. SPOKEN.--Here's your Valnuts; crack'em and try'em, a shilling a hundred! As soon as they deceives'em, so cruelly they leaves 'em, And they never sighs nor sorrows ven they're far far away!-- SPOKEN.--Do you vant any hingons to-day, marm? All round, &c. Oh, I bought my love a ring on the werry day she started, Vich I gave her as a token all to remember me: SPOKEN.--Bless her h-eyes, And vhen she does come back, oh, ve'll never more be parted But ve'll marry and be happy--oh, for ever and a day. SPOKEN.--Here's your fine spring redishes. All round, &c. [Illustration: THE NEW LONDON CRIES.] _Tune_--"The Night Coach."