The raw and awkward squad could drill-- A warrior in air and tone, Who had his country service done-- Straight as a ramrod, and his might Of voice would Lambkin's soul delight. And brave John Murphy--champion John! I can't forget as I pass on. As fine a fellow as e'er wore The scarlet coat in days of yore. With upright form of manliest grace, With wondrous beauty in his face, And perfect symmetry of limb; Appollo might have envied him! And then he was as brave and true As e'er the sword or bayonet drew, Full many a battle did he fight, His injured comrade's wrongs to right; For well he knew each mood and tense Of the old art of self-defence; And woe to him who dared a fling With bold John Murphy in the ring. There many a pugilistic martyr Met his match and caught a Tartar. CHAPTER IV. Near where the George Street market stood Lived William Northgraves, then a good And skilful watch-maker, who's chime Did regulate the march of time, And Arthur Hopper, sporting blade, Was in the same time serving trade, Though guiltless of the modern tricks Of time serving in politics; He made gold rings for bridal matches, As well as cleaned and mended watches. And last of old watchmakers three, I mention mild Maurice Dupuis, Who's even tenor ne'er did vary From the upright and exemplary, At Corcoran's corner, now the stand For carters, very near at hand, Dwelt one who's unforgotten name Is worthy of poetic fame; With scientific sleight he bled, And then anatomized the dead. With hand so wonderfully skill'd, Victims delighted to be killed, Came willingly to yield up life, An offering to Tom Hickey's knife; So high his sense of honor ran, The butcher in the gentleman Merged so completely, you'd be lost, Which in him to admire the most; By ancient poets it was sung Those whom the gods love all die young, Tom Hickey's early death did prove That those die young whom all men love. I must not here omit the name Of Heubach from my roll of fame, He passes under memory's scan A simple minded honest man, With manners quiet, mild and bland, An emigrant from fatherland. And Joseph Nadeau, far and near Famed 'mongst the boys for good _La Tir_ And old John Cochran stern and tall, Immoveable as a stone wall! Staunch to his principles stood he, No matter what the cost might be; Oh! for a few of his old stamp, To trim with fire the waning lamp! And Louis Grison, worthy man, In "Maville's village," first began His little trade, which wider spread As ancient Bytown went ahead. Two rows of houses built of wood, Near Enoch Walkley's brewery stood With narrow little street between, This was the village that I mean. Then William Graham kept the peace Of all the town with perfect ease; Potato whiskey then was cheap, And we had little peace to keep. Such monstrous practice was unknown As kicking when a man was down, Though many a stunning blow was felt, None ever struck below the belt; The ring was form'd, and fair play Reign'd without challenge at each fray,