O horrible! horrible _world!_ there's not e'en An old maid in't, to ask me to tea; Not fit, or in country or town, to _be_ seen, They have hurried off, blindly _to see!_ Parks, houses, clubs, shops, churches, squares, _deserts_ seem; Quite flat, Magazines and Newspapers; Ah, what shall I do? make a trial of _steam,_ In order to banish the _vapours?_ Shall I swallow my dinner? I can't--shall I sleep? Then I don't get away from _myself!_ Shall I think what a beau I have _once_ been, and weep Like a belle, that is laid on the shelf? Shall I write? shall I read? ah, yes, that will do, But an old book is terrible stuff: Boy, get the new novel, stop, _reading's_ so new, That a _book_ will be _novel_ enough! M.L.B. * * * * * ANCIENT HISTORY OF DRURY LANE. (_For the Mirror._) The reader will most probably exclaim, "Ancient History of Drury Lane! What a farce!" A dirty lane filled with all complexions of hawkers and pedlars, licensed and unlicensed!--true incurious reader, Gay has sung _"Of Drury's mazy courts and dark abodes;"_ yet the topographical and theatrical loiterer may call to mind many _pleasing_ reminiscences, although mingled with _unpleasing ones_: "Who has not here a watch or snuff-box lost, Or handkerchiefs that India's shuttle boast." GAY. Stowe says, "Drury Lane, so called, for that there is a house belonging to the family of the Druries.[1] This lane turneth north towards S. Giles in the field. From the south end of this lane in the high street, are divers faire buildings, hostelries, and houses for gentlemen, and men of honor, &c." [1] Dr. Donne resided in a house of Sir R. Drury. Vide _Life_ by honest Izaak Walton.