To their disgust, the very rain, Resolved such conduct to restrain, Came down as if to say――“You shan’t do that again.” Young Reynolds saw the vast supplies Of rain pour down before his eyes. While he the Government defied, Away he saw the meeting glide He chose a wilder strain To bring them back again. He spoke of France, so great and good; Of Louis-Philippe’s fate, Fall’n, fall’n, fall’n, fall’n; From his high estate, And flying with his brood. Deserted at his utmost need By those who on corruption feed, From his own realm in fear he flies, To England turns his anxious eyes, Still, in the rain, young Reynolds boldly sate, Until there lingered scarce a soul; The wet had cleared the ground below, And down the van he gently stole Thinking――he’d better go. _Punch_, 1848. This refers to a meeting held at Kennington in connection with the Chartist agitation, when certain reforms were demanded, which were then ridiculed as revolutionary, but which have since either been granted, or else have come within the scope of practical political discussion. ―――― JOSH HUDSON’S FEAST. ’Twas at the dinner given, the prime tuck-out, By Josh, the boxer stout: Aloft the worthy sat, His corpus lin’d with fat, And, pleas’d, he gaz’d about: His jovial pals were plac’d around, For fancy feats and milling deeds renown’d, And for their fistic worth with glory crown’d. His blooming missus by his side, Smok’d like a hock of bacon fried, In glow of health and beauty’s pride. Happy, happy, happy pair, None but the fat, None but the fat, None but the fat deserves the fair. Jack Fogo, placed on high Amid the tuneful quire, Touch’d with his fives the laureate lyre; The sounds discordant reach’d the sky, And set their souls on fire. Of law he curs’d the rod That sent fat Josh to quod. And swore it was too bad, by G――――! But now at length from durance vile releas’d, With spirit buoyant and in flesh increas’d, He took his seat that happy day the father of the feast. The list’ning coves admir’d the lofty sound, Jolly Josh Hudson’s health they shout around, “The John Bull fighter” all the roofs rebound: With ravish’d ears The fat one hears, Swore it was odd He went to quod. And drank their health with cheers.