For Alderman Gibbs no small amount Of enquiries folks were making, ’Twas thought he had gone to his long account, The reckoning day mistaking. But Michael went another way To the banquet so inducing, For though he expected duck that day, He didn’t want a _gaosing_. Ri fol, &c. The royal pile they now walk’d round, When they reach’d the merchants’ space, At the brazen trumpet’s martial sound, Her Majesty open’d the place. Thus clos’d the door with great eclat, (As a few remark’d, so witty,) “Sho help ma _cot_, I never _shaw_ _Chit_ a sphlendid _chite_ in the _chitty_.” Ri fol, &c. LONDON.--Published by J. FAIRBURN, Commercial Place, City Road. PRINCE OF WALES’ MARRIAGE. [Illustration] Everybody stop and listen to my ditty, And let the news spread from town to city, The Prince of Wales has long enough tarried, And now we know he has got married. For he went to sleep all night And part of the next day, The Prince of Wales must tell some tales, With his doo dah, doo dah, day. His pastime for a week there’s no disputing, For the first three days he went out shooting, He’s like his father I don’t deceive her, And she like Vick is a good feeder. The next two days, so it is said, sir, He began to dig out the parsley bed, sir, Like his dad he does understand, And knows how to cultivate a bit. The first day over he laid in clover, And just alike he felt all over; At fox-hunting he’s clever and all races, Yet she might throw him out of the traces. He must not go larking along with the gals, Keep out of the Haymarket and Pall Mall; And to no married woman must he speak, She’ll stand no nonsense or half-crowns a-week. In November next she must not fail But have a little Prince of Wales, Young Albert he must not be beat, But contrive to make both ends meet. When his wife is in a funny way, Then he must not go astray; Of all those things he must take warning, Nor go out with the girls and stop till morning. The last Prince of Wales was a good’un to go, He would ride with the girls in Rotten Row, He use to flare-up, he was no joker, He was as fat as a Yarmouth bloater. He must look to his stock and cultivation, He must be a father to the nation; He must begin to reap and sow, Be a rum’un to look at, but a good’un to go. He wants six maids as light as fairies, To milk the cows and look to the dairy, To his wife the household affairs confiding, While the Prince of Wales goes out riding. Long life to the Prince and his fair lady, May she have health and bouncing babies, May the Prince be King, we want no other, And take the steps of his father and mother.