2 o’clock.—Bell rung for all hands to come down to dinner. Thought I never saw dirtier hands in my life. They call their dinner “a mess” on broad ship, and a preshious mess it did look—no bread but hard biskit and plenty of ship’s rolls, besides biled pork and P-soop—both these articles seemed rayther queer—felt my stommick growing quear too—got on deck, and asked where we were—was told we were in the Straits of Dover. I never was in such dreadful straits in my life—ship leaning very much on one side, which made me feel like a man A man falling backwards off of a steep roof. GOING OFF IN A RAPID DECLINE. 3 o’clock.—Weather getting rather worse than better. Mind very uneasy. Capting says we shall have plenty of squalls to-night; and I heard him just now tell the mate to look to the main shrouds, so I spose it’s all dickey with us, and that this log will be my sad epilog. The idear of being made fish meat was so orrible to my sensitive mind, that I couldn’t refrain from weaping, which made the capting send me down stairs, to vent my sorros in the cable tiers. 5 o’clock.—I’m sure we shan’t srwive this night, therefore I av determined to put my heavy log into an M T rum-bottle, and throw it overbord, in bops it may be pickd up by some pirson who will bare my sad tail to my dear Sally. And now I conclewd with this short advice:—Let awl yung men take warning by my crewel fate. Let them avide bad kumpany and keep out of the Palass; and above all, let them mind their bissnesses on dri land, and never cast their fortunes on any main, like their unfortinet Servant, THE BOY JONES. [pg 47] Two men in kilt costume: one is standing haughtily upright, the other is hunched over. They are tied together with a sash that reads 'Hay Market'. THE TWO MACBETHS. OR THE HAY MARKET GEMINI. O, Gemini- Crimini! Nimini- Pimini Representatives of the Tartan hero, Who wildly tear a passion into rags More ragged than the hags That round about the cauldron go! Murderers! who murder Shakspeare so, That ’stead of murdering sleep, ye do not do it; But, vice versa, send the audience to it. And, oh!— But no— Illustrious Mac- Beth, or -ready, And thou, small quack, Of plaudits greedy! Our pen, deserted by the tuneful Muses, To write on such a barren theme refuses. THEATRE ROYAL, DRURY LANE, POLITICAL PROMENADE AND CONSERVATIVE CONCERTS. The most splendid night of the season! Friday, the 20th of August. CAPTAIN ROUS’S NIGHT! British Champagne and the British Constitution!—The Church, the State, and Real Turtle! The performances will commence with FISH OUT OF WATER, Sam Savory—Captain Rous, R.N. After which, HIS FIRST CHAMPAGNE; Which will embrace the whole strength of THE STEWARDS. In the course of the Evening, the ENLIGHTENED LICENSED VICTUALLERS, (Those zealous admirers of true British spirit) will parade the room amid A GRAND DISPLAY OF ELECTION ACCOUNTS. To be followed by a GRAND PANTOMIME, called