“Sir, fifty years since to Chelsea great, From Rodman, on the Irish main, I stroll’d, and maggots in my pate, Where, much impro’d, they still remain. Through various employes I’ve past, A scraper, virtuos’, projector, Tooth drawer, trimmer, and at last I’m now a gimcrack-whim collector. Monsters of all sorts here are seen, Strange things in nature as they grow so, Some relics of the Sheha queen, And fragments of the fam’d Bob Crusoe. Knick-knacks, too, dangle round the wall, Some in glass cases, some on shelf, But what’s the rarest right of all, Your humble servant shows himself. On this my chiefest hope depends, Now if you will the cause espouse, In journals pray direct your friends To my Museum Coffee-House: And, in requital for the timely favour, I’ll gratis bleed, draw teeth, and be your shaver. Nay, that your pate may with my noddle tarry, And you shine bright as I do—marry, shall ye Freely consult your Revelation Molly. Nor shall one jealous thought create a huff, For she has taught me manners long enough.” CHELSEA KNACKATORY. DON SALTERO. Dr. Franklin, in his Life, mentions coming to Chelsea to see Don Saltero’s collection:—“We one day (says he) made a party to go by water to Chelsea, in order to see the College, and Don Saltero’s curiosities. On our return, at the request of the company, I undressed myself, and leaped into the river. I swam from near Chelsea the whole way to Blackfriars Bridge, exhibiting, during my course, a variety of feats of activity and address, both upon the surface of the water as well as under it. The sight occasioned much astonishment and pleasure to those to whom it was new. In my youth I took great delight in this exercise.” * * * * * This noted coffee-house was for many years, in the present century, conducted in a most respectable manner. There was a subscription room, where gentlemen met and conversed, and which was frequently visited by men of literature and science, many of whom are still living, but of late years it had lost the celebrity of former days. It was rebuilt in 1867, is now a capital private residence. * * * * * Henry Redhead Yorke, Esq.—This accomplished scholar died at his residence, at No. 19, Cheyne Walk, in 1813, in the 41st year of his age. He was a great classical scholar. In his youth as he himself expressed it, he was “madly in love with ideal liberty.” He became an officer in the French army, and a member of the National Convention, and personally acquainted with all the leading characters of the French Revolution. He was denounced by Robespierre; and but for a friendly hint from the celebrated Condorcet, must have been guillotined, had he been one hour longer in making his escape.