THE CARD, OR POSTER. ’Twas t’other day a printed card, A sort of petty war declared Against some little boys! Three silly men, to say no worse, Must needs pursue a foolish course To rob them of their joys! This, being canvassed round and round, At first produc’d a whispering sound Which soon grew into noise. THE MORNING. The morning lowers And heavily in clouds brings on the day Big with the fate of three deluded men. A council, now, these three conven’d, To see what mischief could be schem’d, Their victims to annoy; This caus’d a dinner to be had, Our heroes being very sad, To renovate their rage; And at the dinner they got drunk— Which soon produc’d a mighty funk, They wanted to engage. THE DINNER {272a} The dinner’s over and the table clear, Each has a bumper of his favorite cheer, Now up erect the company arise, The Regent’s health! the soaking hero {272b} cries;— The Regent’s health! repeats the sable Knight, {272c} We must him cheer or else it wont be right! Most certainly repli’d the chief, half soaken, With three times three ’twill be a loyal token; For three times three, my boys, prepare your lips, And you, dear sable, please to give the hips. The glass pass’d round, with sentiment sublime, Some choosing punch and some prefering wine; Until at length, they growing pretty mellow, ’Tis said, their chief these words aloud did bellow:— Stand by me, boys! I’ll teach ’em such a story! If you’ll stand firm I’ll lead you on to glory. When having drank as long as they were able, While some sat up and some lie under table, I must go home exclaim’d the soaking chief— Remember boys, you come to my relief! And so must I—repli’d the sable hero, And off they trudge like Beelzebub and Nero. AT SOAKER’S DOOR. _Soaker to Black_.—My dear friend Black I’m much afraid There’ll be a row—the soaking hero said. _Black_.—I think so too, indeed, upon my word, So I’ll go home and sharpen up my sword. _Soaker_.—That’s right my boy, then shortly after tea Come here again, I shall you want to see, And as I fear this job will end in strife— I’ll just step in and reconcile my wife. _Black_.—That’s spoken well, and so my friend will I, Then for the present you—I’ll bid good by. _Soaker_.—Good by my friend, good by—good by—good by. AT BLACK’S.