Volume 25 — DANUBIAN HOMICIDE.
Reading edition
Hosts on the Danube's banks are felled To please one man's ambitious whim; And yet there is no inquest held, No Hue-and-Cry raised after him.
His likeness, true, the shops expose; His hair, his eyes, are in the News, And every Constant Reader knows How high he stands without his shoes.
But how he sleeps, of what partakes, In food and drink, from day to day, What casual remarks he makes, The newspapers omit to say.
We know that he persists in lies Of quite an inconsistent kind. But not that any chaplain tries To rectify his frame of mind.
For wholesale murder does not meet The doom that waits the single crime, The exaltation in the street, The carrion-crows, or grave of lime.
The head with an Imperial crown To deck its slant or flattened top, Will never, Donovan, come down Among its fellows in thy shop.
Where, in King William Street, the Strand, Thy window shows to public view The culprits of the red right hand, Whom hemp and Mr. Calcraft slew.
Bishop and Williams, Burke and Hare, Courvoisier—that fiend in plush— At whom the people come to stare, With Thurtell, Greenacre, and Rush.
Cautious Overmuch.
A gentleman named Boddy appears, from the police reports of last week, to have very properly rescued his daughter (a silly young lady who left her own for a "Servant's Home") from the clutches of the Papist perverters who are so constantly busied in destroying the happiness of families. The magistrate seems to have doubted his power, but could he not have dealt with the reverend revivalists as Boddy-snatchers? Surely a surplus letter ought not to have prevented the precise punishment the culprits deserved.
A Calico Calembourg.
Mr. Cobden. Why are the selfish agitators among the operatives like the works of a clock out of order?
Mr. Bright. Because they insist upon striking, without regard to the position of the hands.
Mr. Cobden. You are quite right, my dear Bright.
SCENE.-A LONELY SQUARE.
Time.—Midnight.
Timid Swell (loq). "Take my money, take my Watch, take evewything; but pway spare my collars!"