Quickly the maid went tripping down the stair; Thickly the heart of Rose Matilda beat; “Sure he has brought me tickets for the play-- Drury or Covent Garden--darling man!-- Kemble will play--or Kean who makes the soul Tremble; in Richard or the frienzied Moor-- Farren, the stay and prop of many a farce Barren beside--or Liston, Laughter’s Child-- Kelly the natural, to witness whom Jelly is nothing to the public’s jam-- Cooper, the sensible--and Walter Knowles Super, in William Tell--now rightly told. Better--perchance, from Andrews, brings a box, Letter of boxes for the Italian stage-- Brocard! Donzelli! Taglioni! Paul! No card--thank Heaven--engages me to-night! Feathers, of course, no turban, and no toque-- Weather’s against it, but I’ll go in curls. Dearly I dote on white--my satin dress, Merely one night--it won’t be much the worse-- Cupid the New Ballet I long to see-- Stupid! why don’t she go and ope the door!” Glisten’d her eye as the impatient girl Listen’d, low bending o’er the topmost stair. Vainly, alas! she listens and she bends, Plainly she hears this question and reply: “Axes your pardon, Sir, but what d’ye want?” “Taxes,” says he, “and shall not call again!” [Illustration: BARKER’S PANORAMA.] A FOXHUNTER Is a jumble of paradoxes. He sets forth clean though he comes out of a kennel, and returns home dirty. He cares not for cards, yet strives to be always with the pack. He loves fencing, but without carte or tierce, and delights in a steeplechase, though he does not follow the Church. He is anything but litigious, yet is fond of a certain suit, and retains Scarlet. He keeps a running account with Horse, Dog, Fox, and Co., but objects to a check. As to cards, in choosing a pack he prefers Hunt’s. In Theatricals, he favours Miss Somerville, because her namesake wrote the Chase, though he never read it. He is no great dancer, though he is fond of casting off twenty couple; and no great Painter, though he draws covers, and seeks for a brush. He is no Musician, and yet is fond of five bars. He despises Doctors, yet follows a course of bark. He professes to love his country, but is perpetually crossing it. He is fond of strong ale and beer, yet dislikes any purl. He is good-tempered, yet so far a Tartar as to prefer a saddle of Horse to a saddle of Mutton. He is somewhat rough and bearish himself, but insists on good breeding in horses and dogs. He professes the Church Catechism, and countenances heathen dogmas, by naming his hounds after Jupiter and Juno, Mars and Diana. He cares not for violets, but he doats on a good scent. He says his wife is a shrew, but objects to destroying a Vixen. In Politics he inclines to Pitt, and runs after Fox. He is no milksop, but he loves to Tally. He protects Poultry, and preserves Foxes. He follows but one business, and yet has many pursuits.