“Oh, spare her, LORD OF PILLALOO! (Said BILL) if wed you be, There’s anything _I’d_ rather do Than flirt with LADY P.” The Lord he gazed in Jenny’s eyes, He looked her through and through: The cunning woman’s prophecies Were clearly coming true. LORD PILLALOO, the Rustic’s Bane (Bad person he, and proud), _He laughed Ha_! _ha_! _at pretty_ JANE, _And sneered at her aloud_! He bade her get behind him then, And seek her mother’s stye— Yet to her native countrymen She was as fair as aye! MACCATACOMB, continue green! Grow, SALMON-EYE, in might, Except for you, there might have been The deuce’s own delight PHRENOLOGY “COME, collar this bad man— Around the throat he knotted me Till I to choke began— In point of fact, garotted me!” So spake SIR HERBERT WRITE To JAMES, Policeman Thirty-two— All ruffled with his fight SIR HERBERT was, and dirty too. Policeman nothing said (Though he had much to say on it), But from the bad man’s head He took the cap that lay on it. “No, great SIR HERBERT WHITE— Impossible to take him up. This man is honest quite— Wherever did you rake him up? “For Burglars, Thieves, and Co., Indeed, I’m no apologist, But I, some years ago, Assisted a Phrenologist. “Observe his various bumps, His head as I uncover it: His morals lie in lumps All round about and over it.” “Now take him,” said SIR WHITE, “Or you will soon be rueing it; Bless me! I must be right,— I caught the fellow doing it!” Policeman calmly smiled, “Indeed you are mistaken, sir, You’re agitated—riled— And very badly shaken, sir. “Sit down, and I’ll explain My system of Phrenology, A second, please, remain”— (A second is horology). Policeman left his beat— (The Bart., no longer furious, Sat down upon a seat, Observing, “This is curious!”) “Oh, surely, here are signs Should soften your rigidity: This gentleman combines Politeness with timidity. “Of Shyness here’s a lump— A hole for Animosity— And like my fist his bump Of Impecuniosity. “Just here the bump appears Of Innocent Hilarity, And just behind his ears Are Faith, and Hope, and Charity. “He of true Christian ways As bright example sent us is— This maxim he obeys, ‘_Sorte tuâ contentus sis_.’ “There, let him go his ways, He needs no stern admonishing.” The Bart., in blank amaze, Exclaimed, “This is astonishing! “I _must_ have made a mull, This matter I’ve been blind in it: Examine, please, _my_ skull, And tell me what you find in it.” That Crusher looked, and said, With unimpaired urbanity, “SIR HERBERT, you’ve a head That teems with inhumanity.