Prince Blucher, the valiant old trooper, has taken the lead of the field; he has dismounted from his horse, whose bridle he is holding in his left hand, while his right is locked round the throat of the Fox, who is struggling and clawing vainly to get free; 'Boney's' face is turning the pallid hue of deadly fear in sight of the eager pack of hounds, which are showing their teeth and leaping forward to rend the vermin to fragments; the dogs are of good strain; on their collars may be read the names of those generals who finally outwitted the Corsican--Wellington, Swartzenberg, Kutusoff, Platoff, Crown Prince, York, &c., &c. The allied Emperors and Kings are riding down to be 'in at the death,' and in the distance are seen burning towns, which have been recently devastated by the ravages of the Corsican in his career of ambition. _April 12, 1814._ _Bloody Boney, the Carcass Butcher, left off Trade and Retiring to Scarecrow Island._ Published by T. Tegg (323).--The exiled general is reduced from his state; he is meanly travelling Elbawards, and has reached the seashore, whence he is to embark for his island residence. A gibbet by the way, with a rope in readiness, is serving as a fingerpost to point the road; vultures, which fly round this suggestive object, express a desire to pick the bones of the retiring 'carcass butcher.' All the splendours of 'Boney's' surroundings are stripped bare; he is riding on a rough-coated donkey, and wearing a 'fool's cap' in place of a crown; his only provision is a bag of brown bread; his consort, loose and ragged, is seated at the crupper on the same beast, which is being unmercifully flogged with a stick labelled '_Bâton Marcéchal_;' 'Boney' is lost in terror; his juvenile heir, lately made King of Rome, is preceding the _cortége_, mounted on a 'Corsican dog.' A French postilion, of the old school, is jumping about for joy, in his huge bucket-like jack-boots, flourishing his whip, and rejoicing to see the backs of the usurping Corsican and his party: 'Be gar, you _coquin_, now I shall drive my old friends and _bonnes_ customers _de_ English. _Vive le Roi et la Poste Royale!_' _April 15, 1814._ _The Rogue's March._ Published by T. Tegg (321). From fickle Fortune's gamesome lap What various titles flow! The Emperor of Conj'rors, Nap, The King of Beggars, Joe!