May it plese my Lord,--i have gest time to Rite and let you kno' wot a sad plite we are inn, On account off your lordship's inwitayshun to queen Wictory and Prince Allbut to come and Pick a bit with you, becos There is nothink for them wen they comes, and the Kitchin-range is chok'd up with the sut as has falln down the last fore yeers, and no poletry but too old cox, which is two tuff to be agreerble; But, praps, we Can git sum cold meet from the in, wot as bin left at the farmers' markut-dinner; and may I ask you my lord without fear of your [Illustration: TAKING A FENCE] on the reseat of this To send down sum ham and beef to me--two pound will be Enuff--or a quarter kitt off pickuld sammun, if you can git it, and I wish you may; and sum german silver spoons, to complement prince Allbut with; and, praps, as he and his missus knos they've come to Take pot-luck like, they won't be patickler, and I think we had better order the beer from the Jerry-shop, for owr own Is rayther hard, and the brooer says, that a fore and a harf gallon, at sixpence A gallon, won't keep no Time, unless it's drunk; and so we guv some to the man as brort the bushel of coles, and he sed It only wanted another Hop, and then it woud have hopped into water; and John is a-going to set some trimmers in The ditches to kitch some fish; and, praps, if yure lordship comes, you may kitch sum too, from Yure obedient Humbl servent and housekeeper, MISSES RUMMIN. 7. MY LORD,--Probably your cellars will be full of choke-damp when the door is opened, from long disuse and confined air. I have men, accustomed to descend dangerous wells and shafts, who will undertake the job at a moderate price. Should you labour under any temporary pecuniary embarrassment in paying me, I shall be happy to take it out in your wine, which I should think had been some years in bottle. Your Lordship's most humble servant, RICHARD ROSE, Dealer in Marine Stores. Gray's-inn-lane. * * * * * LAYS OF THE LAZY. I've wander'd on the distant shore, I've braved the dangers of the deep, I've very often pass'd the Nore-- At Greenwich climb'd the well-known steep; I've sometimes dined at Conduit House, I've taken at Chalk Farm my tea, I've at the Eagle talk'd with Rouse-- But I have NOT _forgotten thee_! "I've stood amid the glittering throng" Of mountebanks at Greenwich fair, Where I have heard the Chinese gong Filling, with brazen voice, the air. I've join'd wild revellers at night-- I've crouch'd beneath the old oak tree, Wet through, and in a pretty plight, But, oh! I've NOT _forgotten thee_! I've earn'd, at times, a pound a week-- Alas! I'm earning nothing now; Chalk scarcely shames my whiten'd cheek, Grief has plough'd furrows in my brow. I only get one meal a day, And that one meal--oh, God!--my tea; I'm wasting silently away, But I have NOT _forgotten thee_!