"One!"--crash! "Two!"--clash! "Three!"--dash! "Four!"--smash! Diminuendo, Now crescendo:-- Thus play the furious band, Led by the kid-gloved hand Of Jullien--that Napoleon of quadrille, Of Piccolo-nians shrillest of the shrill; Perspiring raver Over a semi-quaver; Who tunes his pipes so well, he'll tell you that The natural key of Johnny Bull's--A flat. Demon of discord, with mustaches cloven-- Arch impudent _improver_ of Beethoven-- Tricksy professor of _charlatanerie_-- Inventor of musical artillery-- Barbarous rain and thunder maker-- Unconscionable money taker-- Travelling about both near and far, Toll to exact at every _bar_-- What brings thee here again, To desecrate old Drury's fane? Egregious attitudiniser! Antic fifer! com'st to advise her 'Gainst intellect and sense to close her walls? To raze her benches, That Gallic wenches Might play their brazen antics at masked balls? _Ci-devant_ waiter Of a _quarante-sous traiteur_, Why did you leave your stew-pans and meat-oven, To make a fricassee of the great Beet-hoven? And whilst your piccolos unceasing squeak on, Saucily serve Mozart with _sauce-piquant_; Mawkishly cast your eyes to the cerulean-- Turn Matthew Locke to _potage a la julienne_! Go! go! sir, do, Back to the _rue_, Where lately you Waited upon each hungry feeder, Playing the _garcon_, not the leader. Pray, put your hat on, _Coupez votre baton._ Bah _Va!!_ * * * * * CLAR' DE KITCHEN. It is now pretty well understood, that if the Tories come into office, there will be a regular turn out of the present royal household. Her Majesty, through the gracious condescension of the new powers, will be permitted to retain her situation in the royal establishment, but on the express condition that there shall be-- [ILLUSTRATION: NO FOLLOWERS ALLOWED.] * * * * * A PARTY OF MEDALLERS. A subscription has been opened for a medal to commemorate the return of Lord John Russell for the city of London. We would suggest that his speech to the citizens against the corn-laws would form an appropriate inscription for the face of the medal, while that to the Huntingdonshire farmers in favour of them would be found just the thing for the _reverse_. * * * * * A CHAPTER ON BOOTS. "Boots? Boots!" Yes, Boots! we can write upon boots--we can moralise upon boots; we can convert them, as _Jacques_ does the weeping stag in "As You Like It," (or, whether you like it or not,) into a thousand similes. First, for--but, "our _sole's_ in arms and eager for the fray," and so we will at once head our dissertation as we would a warrior's host with [Illustration] WELLINGTONS.