There was a paraphrase of “_Auld Lane Syne_” in the second volume of “The Comic Offering,” for 1832, and a long, but very dull, parody of “_Willie brewed a peck o’ Maut_” in _Punch_ of November 29, 1884, apropos of Bismarck and the Congo question. _Funny Folks_, for June 14, 1879, had a few lines on a young man who kissed a girl on Peckham Rye, and was fined for so doing. They ran thus:―― If a body meet a body Coming through the Rye, Can a body kiss a body? Yes――if no one’s nigh. Every bobby has his hobby, And some like to spy In a way distinctly “snobby,” At young lovers spry. In the same journal there was a poem (singularly appropriate at present), referring to the importation of American meat, which the butchers retailed as Scotch, in the same way that they now openly sell Australian, or New Zealand frozen mutton as English, and realise enormous and unfair profits by so doing. “Scots!” although in New York bred; “Scots,” whom Yankees well have fed, Welcome either live or dead Safely o’er the sea. Now we’re in the butcher’s power, Who, complaining every hour, Grudge to see us meat devour―― Cheap and savo-ree. Every one has need to save, Times are bad and prospects grave: Why should butchers play the knave, Or such tyrants be? Wha sells “Scot” fat, firm and braw, At a price that’s fair to a’, Butcher stand, or butcher fa’, He’s the man for me! _Funny Folks_, February 10, 1877. There was also a political Parody of “_For a’ That_” in _Funny Folks_ of March 14, 1885. ――――:o:―――― FOR A’ THAT AN A’ THAT. The following imitation of Burns’s song was written by Sir Walter Scott, in praise of the “Holy Alliance,” and was sung at the first meeting of the Pitt Club of Scotland; and published in the Scots Magazine for July, 1814. A NEW SONG TO AN OLD TUNE. 1814. Though right be aft put down by strength, As mony a day we saw that, The true and leilfu’ cause at length Shall bear the grie for a’ that. For a’ that, an a’ that, Guns, guillotines, and a’ that, The Fleur-de-lis, that lost her right, Is Queen again for a’ that! We’ll twine her in a friendly knot With England’s Rose and a’ that; The Shamrock shall not be forgot, For Wellington made braw that. The Thistle, though her leaf be rude, Yet faith we’ll no misca’ that, She shelter’d in her solitude The Fleur-de-lis, for a’ that,