Come along, old fellow; follow me as a friend, from the midnight streets; Leave awhile the cold and muddy Strand to loiter in the tavern of the Coal Hole. Come into this quiet box, with hot water in a batter’d pewter jug, Over whose beer-stain’d table are strewn many particles of crust; Here, upon this wooden peg, hang up thy hat and Chesterfield, Order a pint of stout, or a go of grog, and rest for half-an-hour. Behold! I would stop a short time in this buzzing crowd of visitors, Though wrapp’d up in a mackintosh, yet are the seams and pockets pervious; But into the foam of this goodly glass I dip my beak, And receive its contents as nectar, yet the tap is Barclay’s. Under its cheerful influence I shall, before long, get loquacious, And mingle the fashion of my speech with froth-built snatches of philosophy! _Of Gifts._ I had a seeming friend:――I gave him a licking――he was gone! I had an open enemy:――I stood a pint――and won him! Common friends require presents; monkeys more kicks than halfpence; But the scorn of anyone melteth at a barrel of Quin’s oysters. A foe may get spiteful, and incline to call thee a humbug, But send him a turbot, and he saith,――“He’s a good fellow, after all!” Policemen will not oft refuse a drain, if absent the inspector, And policemen’s friendship should be courted in the event of rows. The larker, held by the collar, may be released by half-a-crown, And thy own bed is better than the stone sofas of a station house, Or, being James Edwards, compelled to call thyself John Brown. There is not one crusher who is proof against the waistcoat pocket, And the same font of happiness hath even power over reporters. I saw a beggar in St. Giles’s, and another beggar punch’d his head, For the first had collected more coppers at his crossing than the other His broom fell into the mud, and he swore an oath. Anon a baked potato-man came up, with a high-pressure can, And gave him of his store; the first beggar was grateful. He, poor stricken cadger, picked up his broom with a curse, And, turning to the potato man, asked what he would take to drink. And so the sprat had been set, and the herring had been caught! A parody of a somewhat more spiteful character appeared in _Punch_, August 23, 1856, but the circumstances to which it alluded are now forgotten, so that the parody lacks interest: a few verses only need be quoted:―― THE QUEEN OF OUDE. (NOT) _By Martin Farquhar Tupper, Esq._ THE QUEEN OF OUDE, Which is so proud, She never will get boozy, Has crossed the seas, And, if you please, Will serve out LORD DALHOUSIE. _The Queen of Oude_, She cries so loud For justice, like a Q. C. And claims her right, And wants to fight The MARQUIS OF DALHOUSIE. * * * * *