That sackreligious Air-dresser, the Parson and his man Wouldn't, though ask'd continyally, own their wicked plan-- And so the kind Authoraties let those villians go That was plotting of the murder of the good PIO NONO. Now isn't this safishnt proof, ye gentlemen at home, How wicked is them Prodestants, and how good our Pope at Rome? So let us drink confusion to LORD JOHN and LORD MINTO, And a health unto His Eminence, and good PIO NONO. THE LAMENTABLE BALLAD OF THE FOUNDLING OF SHOREDITCH. Come all ye Christian people, and listen to my tail, It is all about a doctor was travelling by the rail, By the Heastern Counties' Railway (vich the shares I don't desire), From Ixworth town in Suffolk, vich his name did not transpire. A travelling from Bury this Doctor was employed With a gentleman, a friend of his, vich his name was Captain Loyd, And on reaching Marks Tey Station, that is next beyond Colchest- er, a lady entered into them most elegantly dressed. She entered into the Carriage all with a tottering step, And a pooty little Bayby upon her bussum slep; The gentlemen received her with kindness and siwillaty, Pitying this lady for her illness and debillaty. She had a fust-class ticket, this lovely lady said, Because it was so lonesome she took a secknd instead. Better to travel by secknd class, than sit alone in the fust, And the pooty little Baby upon her breast she nust. A seein of her cryin, and shiverin and pail, To her spoke this surging, the Ero of my tail; Saysee you look unwell, Ma'am, I'll elp you if I can, And you may tell your ease to me, for I'm a meddicle man. "Thank you, Sir," the lady said, "I only look so pale, Because I ain't accustom'd to travelling on the Rale; I shall be better presnly, when I've ad some rest:" And that pooty little Baby she squeeged it to her breast. So in the conwersation the journey they beguiled, Capting Loyd and the meddicle man, and the lady and the child, Till the warious stations along the line was passed, For even the Heastern Counties' trains must come in at last. When at Shoreditch tumminus at lenth stopped the train, This kind meddicle gentleman proposed his aid again. "Thank you, Sir," the lady said, "for your kyindness dear; My carridge and my osses is probibbly come here. "Will you old this baby, please, vilst I step and see?" The Doctor was a famly man: "That I will," says he. Then the little child she kist, kist it very gently, Vich was sucking his little fist, sleeping innocently. With a sigh from her art, as though she would have bust it, Then she gave the Doctor the child--wery kind he nust it: Hup then the lady jumped hoff the bench she sat from, Tumbled down the carridge steps and ran along the platform.