This spoil’d my scheme for sending troops from Gallia’s shore to Dover, So then, by gar, me send them off, and then they took Hanover; But, for to ratify the terms, th’ ELECTOR did not choose, Sir, Because, I’m told, the British King, to sign them did refuse, Sir. Lack, lack a day, fal lal, &c. O! next I make more gasconade, and then most loudly boast, Sir, That I would send flat-bottom’d boats, and soon invade de coast, Sir, ‘_That all the men in arms I found, by gar, I’d take their lives, Sir, And put to sword the Britons all, their children, and their wives, Sir!!!_’ Lack, lack a day, fal lal, &c. I found my boasting threats are vain, for now, all ranks, by gar, Sir, From fifteen, up to fifty-five, are all prepar’d for war, Sir, They swear, ‘no Gallic yoke they’ll bear, or Corsican’s proud sting, Sir, But, bravely for their Freedom fight, their Country, and their King! Sir.’ Lack, lack a day, fal lal, &c. And then they talk of warlike deeds--of _Edward the Black Prince_, Sir, And how their _Harries_ fought of old--true courage to evince, Sir, In modern times, a _Nelson_ brave! and _Abercrombie’s_ fame, Sir, O’er Gallia’s fleets and armies too, have spread eternal shame, Sir. Lack, lack a day, fal lal, &c. By gar, me always thought, till now, I was a mighty _Hero_! But then, I’m told, the people say, me cruel was as Nero, Because _three thousand Turks_ I slew, they say I was to blame, Sir, As also when at Jaffa I--did poison sick and lame, Sir. Lack, lack a day, fal lal, &c. By gar, I find my ardor fail, and all my courage cool, Sir, De _World_ confess I am de _knave_--de _English_ call me _fool_, Sir; Hard fate! alas, that I am both! my heart, of grief, is full, Sir, By gar, me wish I was at _peace_! with honest _Johnny Bull_! Sir. Lack, lack a day, fal lal, &c. [Illustration] CHAPTER XXXIV. INVASION SQUIBS, _continued_--THE BOTTLE CONJUROR--PIDCOCK’S MENAGERIE. In order to understand the next caricature, it is necessary to go back to January 16, 1749, when a famous hoax was played on the public. The ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ for that month says, ‘A person advertised that he would, this evening, at the _Theatre_ in the _Hay-market_, play on a common walking cane the music of every instrument now used, to surprising perfection; that he would, on the stage, get into a tavern quart bottle, without equivocation; and while there, sing several songs, and suffer any spectator to handle the bottle; that, if any spectator should come mask’d, he would, if requested, declare who they were; that, in a private room, he would produce the representation of any person dead, with which the party requesting it could converse some minutes as if alive, &c.’