The whole will be got up at a great _Price_; but in order to go a _Pennefather_, the amusements of the evening are to be further promoted by the performance of _Dick Strutt_, the celebrated _Millbank Ryder_, who will _Mount_ a _Hill_, and afterwards, while swallowing a _Long Pole_, blow a _Horn_ fantasie through his nose without _Pain_, and then _Skipwith_ a live _Buck_ and two _Foxes_--concluding with a description of his late two _Miles Hunt_ in three _Woods_. Among the splendid pictures decorating the walls, are some views along the _Surry Banks_ and of the _Bridges_. On the whole, some warm work is anticipated, from there being a supply of both _Coke_ and _Cole_; but as to who will _Wynne_, remains to be seen. _Walworth._ G.W. * * * * * EPITAPHS. _On Ann Jennings, at Wolstanton._ Some have children, some have none; Here lies the mother of twenty-one. _On Du Bois, born in a baggage-wagon, and killed in a duel._ Begot in a cart, in a cart first drew breath, Carte and tierce was his life, and a carte was his death. _On a Publican._ A jolly landlord once was I, And kept the Old King's Head hard by, Sold mead and gin, cider and beer, And eke all other kinds of cheer, Till Death my license took away, And put me in this house of clay: A house at which you all must call, Sooner or later, great and small. _On John Underwood._ Oh cruel Death, that dost no good, With thy destructive maggots; Now thou hast cropt our Underwood, What shall we do for fagots? _In Dorchester Churchyard._ Frank from his Betty snatch'd by Fate, Shows how uncertain is our state; He smiled at morn, at noon lay dead-- Flung from a horse that kick'd his head. But tho' he's gone, from tears refrain, At judgment he'll get up again. * * * * * EPITAPHS IN BROMSGROVE CHURCHYARD. _In memory of Thomas Maningly, who died 3rd of May, 1819, aged 28 years._ Beneath this stone lies the remains, Who in Bromsgrove-street was slain; A currier with his knife did the deed, And left me in the street to bleed; But when archangel's trump shall sound, And souls to bodies join, that murderer I hope will see my soul in heaven shine. _Edward Hill, died 1st of January, 1800, aged 70._ He now in silence here remains, (Who fought with Wolf on Abraham's plains); E'en so will Mary Hill, his wife, When God shall please to take her life. 'Twas Edward Hill, their only son, Who caused the writing on this stone. * * * * *