Intent upon a row, Rose their clamour wild and loud, And in showers the snowballs flew, At the ragamuffin crowd. It was just two o’clock by the time; When the medicals came out, As each waved his cudgel stout, Cried “To crack a Charlie’s snout Is no crime.” So down the stairs they dashed, Spreading terror far and wide; Right and left the crabsticks smash’d; Yells were heard on every side. “Hit ’em hard,” was the cry――when each man With an adamantine whack, Made their empty noddles crack, Now, ye Charlies, pay them back!! If ye can!!! Again, again, again, And the havoc did not slack, Till to cut their sticks, they deign, And within the gates fly back. Stones and dirt along the streets, slowly boom; And the Charlies’ bruised and pale, With the mob behind their tail, Our environs to assail, Did presume. With joy ye students shout, At the tidings of your might, How ye made the claret spout! How the scoundrels mauled took flight! Until midst their howling and uproar, The Lobsters in were led, And the Riot Act was read, While the Provost popp’d his head Through the door. Brave hearts! turn out’s the word; Though you’ve leathered the police, Yet a baton’s not a sword, So leave the field in peace. And our bards shall sing the glory of the day, How many a skull and hat, To the tune of “Tit for Tat,” Was bash’d and batter’d flat, In the fray. KILSPENDIE. In the same volume (which is now very scarce) there are also Parodies of “Lochiel’s Warning,” entitled the “Student’s Warning,” one of a passage from _Marmion_, and another imitating _The Lady of the Lake_:―― “Hail to the chief who in triumph advances,” &c. headed “Clan Charlie’s Pibroch,” and a parody of Hamlet’s Soliloquy, commencing, “To stand or not to stand, that is the question?” This is headed, “The Policeman’s Soliloquy.” ――――:o:―――― THE BURNING OF THE PLAY-HOUSE. (_Improved from Campbell._) [Covent Garden Theatre was destroyed by fire on March 5, 1856, during a masked ball conducted by Anderson, the self-styled “Wizard of the North.”] Of the “Wizard of the North Sing the Tuesday’s night renown, When he let the gas break forth And burn the play-house down. And illuminated London brightly shown, While a masquerading band, Almost too drunk to stand, But all holding hand in hand, Revelled on. Detesting every note, (They’d been playing there from nine), The orchestra scarce kept From kicking up a shine. It was five of Wednesday morn, by the chime, And as each fiddler saith, Tobacco choked his breath, And he played, fatigued to death, Out of time.