Will no one sympathize with Palmer, Who every charge did strong deny, You are all aware I am found guilty, For by a Jury I’ve been tried. My situation makes me tremble, I am borne down with grief and care, All conversation is of Palmer, Of Rugeley town, in Staffordshire. A COPY OF VERSES ON _MARY ARNOLD, THE FEMALE MONSTER_. OF all the tales was ever told, I now will you impart, That cannot fail to terror strike, To every human heart. The deeds of Mary Arnold, Who does in a jail deplore, Oh! such a dreadful tale as this, Was never told before. _Chorus._ This wretched woman’s dreadful deed, Does every one affright. With black beetles in walnut shells, She deprived her child of sight. Now think you tender parents, What must this monster feel, The heart within her breast must ten Times harder be than steel. The dreadful crime she did commit, Does all the world surprise, Black beetles placed in walnut shells, Bound round her infant’s eyes. The beetles in a walnut shell, This monster she did place, This dreadful deed, as you may read, All history does disgrace, The walnut shell, and beetles, With a bandage she bound tight, Around her infant’s tender eyes, To take away it’s sight. A lady saw this monster, In the street when passing by, And she was struck with terror, For to hear the infant cry. The infant’s face she swore to see, Which filled her with surprise, To see the fatal bandage, Tied round the infant’s eyes. With speed she called an officer, Oh! shocking to relate, Who beheld the deed, and took the wretch, Before the Magistrate. Who committed her for trial, Which did the wretch displease, And she’s now transported ten long years, Across the briny seas. Is there another in the world, Could plan such wicked deed, No one upon this earth before, Of such did ever see. To take away her infant’s sight, ’Tis horrible to tell, Binding black beetles round it’s eyes, Placed in walnut shells. THE UNDERTAKER’S CLUB. ONE night, being pressed by his old friend Chubb, To go to an Undertaker’s Club, I’ll furnish you all, if that I dare. With a mournful account of this grave affair. _Chorus._ For such a black looking lot is this Club of Undertakers, such a black looking set You never did see. This selfsame Club, and House of Call, Was held at Blackheath, or else Blackwall, The landlord’s name it was Blackmore, And an African Chief hung over the door. The Undertakers had all met. They were dress’d in black a dingey set, The picture frames black, and so were the walls, And the window curtains were made of palls.