Such respectable introductions could not fail to meet the approbation of the Gentlemen present,--consequently they were unanimously elected Knights of the Round Table, which was almost as quickly supplied by the Waiter with a capacious bowl of punch, and the healths of the newmade Members drank with three times three; when their attention was suddenly drawn to a distant part of the room, where a sprightly Stripling, who was seated by the swarthy Conjuror before mentioned, was singing the following Song: THE JOYS OF A MILL, OR A TODDLE TO A FIGHT. “Now's the time for milling, boys, since all the world's agog for it, Away to Copthorne, Moulsey Hurst, or Slipperton they go; Or grave or gay, they post away, nay pawn their very togs for it, And determined to be up to all, go down to see the show: Giddy pated, hearts elated, cash and courage all to view it, Ev'ry one to learn a bit, and tell his neighbours how to do it; E'en little Sprites in lily whites, are fibbing it and rushing it, Your dashing Swells from Bagnigge Wells, are flooring it and flushing it: Oh! 'tis a sight so gay and so uproarious, That all the world is up in arms, and ready for a fight. The roads are so clogg'd, that they beggar all description now, With lads and lasses, prim'd and grogg'd for bang-up fun and glee; Here's carts and gigs, and knowing prigs all ready to kick up a row, And ev'ry one is anxious to obtain a place to see; Here's a noted sprig of life, who sports his tits and clumner too, And there is Cribb and Gully, Belcher, Oliver, and H armer too, With Shelton, Bitton, Turner, Hales, and all the lads to go it well, Who now and then, to please the Fancy, make opponents know it well: Oh! 'tis a sight, &c. But now the fight's begun, and the Combatants are setting to, Silence is aloud proclaim'd by voices base and shrill; Facing, stopping---fibbing, dropping--claret tapping--betting too-- Reeling, rapping--physic napping, all to grace the mill; Losing, winning--horse-laugh, grinning--mind you do not glance away, Or somebody may mill your mug, and of your nob in Chancery; For nobs and bobs, and empty fobs, the like no tongue could ever tell-- See, here's the heavy-handed Gas, and there's the mighty Non- pareil: