Who’ll be the clerk? “I,” says O’Brien; “His grace to be eyein’, “I’ll be the clerk.” Who’ll toll the bell? “I,” shouts bold Parnell; “His end aloud to tell, “I’ll toll the bell.” DEMOCRAT. _Newcastle Weekly Chronicle._ ―――― WHO STOLE O’BRIEN’S BREECHES? Who stole O’Brien’s breeches? I, said Balfour, with the aid of a warder, _I_ stole his breeches. Who stole his shirt? I, said Londonderry, and it’s made London merry, I stole his shirt. Who stole his coat? I, said Plunkett: I went and slunk it, I stole his coat. Who stole his socks? I, said King-Harman, for I wanted to darn ’em, I stole his socks. Who stole his boots? I, said Saxe-Weimar, and the joke is a screamer, I stole his boots. Who’ll wear the gaol clothes? Not I, said O’Brien, spite of all their tryin’! I’ll _not_ wear the gaol clothes. _Pall Mall Gazette._ November, 1887. ――――:o:―――― Jack and Jill went up the hill, To fetch a pail of water; Jack fell down, and broke his crown, And Jill came tumbling after. JOHANNES ET GILLIA. Johannes atque Gillia Scandebant super clivo, Ut urnam aquæ gelidæ Haurirent ibi rivo. Johanni decidenti, heu, Tunc caput frangebatur; Et Gillia cadens etiam Johannem sequebatur. _The Hornet._ 1872. ――――:o:―――― A SONG FOR FIVE FINGERS. This pig went to market; This pig stayed at home, This pig had a bit of meat; And this pig had none; This pig said “wee, wee, wee!” I can’t find my way home. IN QUINQUE DIGITOS. Hic porculus forum pergebat, Hic, contrà, in domo manebat, Hic porculus carnem edebat Hic victu, heu, planè carebat. Hic porculus mœstè lugebat, Quod illum nox domo claudebat. _The Hornet._ 1872. ――――:o:―――― Hey! diddle diddle, The cat and the fiddle, The cow jumped over the moon; The little dog laughed To see such sport, And the dish ran away with the spoon. NURSERY RHYMES A LA MODE. (Our nurseries will soon be too cultured to admit the old rhymes in their Philistine and unæsthetic garb. They may be redressed somewhat on this model!) O but she was dark and shrill, (Hey-de-diddle and hey-de-dee!) The cat that (on the First Aprill) Played the fiddle upon the lea. O and the moon was wan and bright, (Hey-de-diddle and hey-de-dee!) The Cow she looked nor left nor right, But took it straight at a jump, pardie! The hound did laugh to see this thing, (Hey-de-diddle and hey-de-dee!) As it were parlous wantoning, (Ah, good my gentles, laugh not ye!) And underneath a dreesome moon Two lovers fled right piteouslie; A spooney plate with a plated spoon, (Hey-de-diddle and hey-de-dee!) _Postscript._