Volume 153 — BEASTS ROYAL.

Yellow wheels and red wheels, and wheels that squeak and roar, Big buttons, brown wigs, and many capes of buff ... Someone's bound for Sussex, in a coach-and-four; And, when the long whips crack, Running at the back Barks the swift Dalmatian, whose spots are seven-score. White dust and grey dust, fleeting tree and tower, Brass horns and copper horns, blowing loud and bluff ... Someone's bound for Sussex, at eleven miles an hour; And, when the long horns blow, From the wheels below Barks the swift Dalmatian, tongued like an apple-flower. Big domes and little domes, donkey-carts that jog, High stocks and low pumps and admirable snuff ... Someone strolls at Brighton, not very much incog.; And, panting on the grass, In his collar bossed with brass, Lies the swift Dalmatian, the KING's plum-pudding dog.