Two Sally Luns and a crumpet. “I don't like _brown_ sugar,” said he. “If you don't,” thought the lad, “you may _lump_ it.” To crown this delightful regale, Waiter! your stumps, jolly boy, stir; A crown's worth of oysters and ale, Ere we give the sail homeward a hoister!” “Of ale in a boiling-hot vat, My dear daddy dropp'd, and was, Ah! boil'd.” “A drop I can't relish of that In which your papa, boy, was parboil'd.” Fresh was the breeze, so was Tim: How pleasant the life of a Midge is; King Neptune, my service to him! But I'll shoot Father Thames and his bridges! His levee's a frosty-faced fair, When Jack freezes him and his flounders; His river-horse is but a may'r, And his Tritons are cockney ten-pounders! “Tim Glover, my tale is a trite'un; I owe you a very small matter, see; The shot I'll discharge, my polite'un, You paid for the wherry to Battersea. “With powder I've just fill'd my horn; See this pocket-pistol! enough is it? You'll twig, if a gentleman born, And say, f Mr. Grady, quant. sujfficit.'” Mrs. Grady, as other wives do, Before my Lord May'r in his glory, Brought Thady and Timothy too. Cry'd Hobler, “O what a lame story! “You cruel Teague, lest there accrue ill, We'll just bind you over, Sir Thady, To keep the peace.”--“Keep the peace, jewel Not that piece of work, Mrs. Grady!” His Lordship he gaped with surprise, And gave the go-by to his gravity; His cheeks swallow'd up his two eyes, And lost in a laugh their concavity. Then Grady gave Glover his fist, With, f 1{ Truce to the shindy between us I” Each lad, when the ladies had kiss'd, Cut off with his hatchet-faced Venus! Ogling misses and ma'ams, Listing, drilling, drumming'em-- Quick they shoulder'd his arms-- Argumentum ad humming 'em. The concluding chorus found us at the end of our excursion. Barney Binnacle was liberally rewarded by Mr. Bosky; to each of his children he was made the bearer of some little friendly token; and with a heart lighter than it had been for many a weary day, he plied his oars homeward, contented and grateful.