of expurgation." The first of the substituted fables of the sixth edition--_The Fly and the Game_, given below--may also be viewed as a protest to the same purpose. As a specimen of Mr. Wright's powers at once as an original poet and an original fabulist, we here print (for the first time in England, we believe) the substituted fables of his sixth edition. We may add, that they appeared in lieu of the following five fables as given in Mr. Wright's complete edition--and in the present edition:--_The Bitch and her Friend, The Mountain in Labour, The Young Widow, The Women and the Secret_, and, _The Husband, the Wife, and the Thief_. It should also be borne in mind that these original fables were inserted in an edition professedly meant for schools rather than for the general public. * * * * * THE FLY AND THE GAME. A knight of powder-horn and shot Once fill'd his bag--as I would not, Unless the feelings of my breast By poverty were sorely press'd-- With birds and squirrels for the spits Of certain gormandizing cits. With merry heart the fellow went Direct to Mr. Centpercent, Who loved, as well was understood, Whatever game was nice and good. This gentleman, with knowing air, Survey'd the dainty lot with care, Pronounced it racy, rich, and rare, And call'd his wife, to know her wishes About its purchase for their dishes. The lady thought the creatures prime, And for their dinner just in time; So sweet they were, and delicate, For dinner she could hardly wait. But now there came--could luck be worse?-- Just as the buyer drew his purse, A bulky fly, with solemn buzz, And smelt, as an inspector does, This bird and that, and said the meat-- But here his words I won't repeat-- Was anything but fit to eat. 'Ah!' cried the lady, 'there's a fly I never knew to tell a lie; His coat, you see, is bottle-green; He knows a thing or two I ween; My dear, I beg you, do not buy: Such game as this may suit the dogs.' So on our peddling sportsman jogs, His soul possess'd of this surmise, About some men, as well as flies: A filthy taint they soonest find Who are to relish filth inclined. THE DOG AND CAT. A dog and cat, messmates for life, Were often falling into strife, Which came to scratching, growls, and snaps, And spitting in the face, perhaps. A neighbour dog once chanced to call Just at the outset of their brawl, And, thinking Tray was cross and cruel, To snarl so sharp at Mrs. Mew-well, Growl'd rather roughly in his ear. 'And who are you to interfere?' Exclaim'd the cat, while in his face she flew; And, as was wise, he suddenly withdrew. It seems, in spite of all his snarling, And hers, that Tray was still her darling. THE GOLDEN PITCHER.