Jackets may do to ride or race, Or row in, when one's in a boat, But in the boudoir, sure, for grace There's nothing like Dick's long-tail'd cost, Of course in climbing up a tree, On terra-firma, or afloat, To mount the giddy topmast, he Would doff awhile his long-tail'd coat. What makes you simper, then, and sneer? From out your own eye pull the mote! A PRETTY thing for you to jeer-- Haven't YOU, too, got a long-tail'd coat? Oh! "Dick's scarce old enough," you mean. Why, though too young to give a note, Or make a will, yet, sure Fifteen 's a ripe age for a long-tail'd coat. What! would you have him sport a chin Like Colonel Stanhope, or that goat O' German Mahon, ere begin To figure in a long-tail'd coat? Suppose he goes to France--can he Sit down at any table d' hote, With any sort of decency, Unless he's got a long-tail'd coat? Why Louis Philippe, Royal Cit, There soon may be a sans culotte, And Nugent's self may then admit The advantage of a long-tail'd coat. Things are not now as when, of yore, In tower encircled by a moat, The lion-hearted chieftain wore A corselet for a long-tail'd coat; Then ample mail his form embraced, Not like a weasel or a stoat, "Cribb'd and confined" about the waist, And pinch'd in like Dick's long-tail'd coat With beamy spear or biting ax, To right and left he thrust and smote-- Ah! what a change! no sinewy thwacks Fall from a modern long-tail'd coati More changes still! now, well-a-day! A few cant phrases learned by rote, Each beardless booby spouts away, A Solon, in a long-tail'd coat! Prates of the "March of Intellect"-- "The Schoolmaster." A PATRIOTE So noble, who could e'er suspect Had just put on a long-tail'd coat? Alack! alack! that every thick- Skull'd lad must find an antidote For England's woes, because, like Dick, He has put on a long-tail'd coat! But lo! my rhyme's begun to fail, Nor can I longer time devote; Thus rhyme and time cut short the TALE, The long tale of Dick's long-tail'd coat. THE SUNDAY QUESTION. THOMAS HOOD. "It is the king's highway that we are in, and in this way it is that thou hast placed the lions,"--BUNYAN. What! shut the Gardens! lock the latticed gate! Refuse the shilling and the fellow's ticket! And hang a wooden notice up to state, On Sundays no admittance at this wicket! The Birds, the Beasts, and all the Reptile race, Denied to friends and visitors till Monday! Now, really, this appears the common case Of putting too much Sabbath into Sunday-- But what is your opinion, Mrs. Grundy?