Part 4 — JACOB OMNIUM'S HOSS A NEW PALLICE COURT CHANT. W. MAKEPEACE THACKERAY

One sees in Viteall Yard, Vere pleacemen do resort. A wenerable hinstitute, 'Tis called the Pallis Court A gent as got his i on it, I think will make some sport

The natur of this Court My hindignation riles: A few fat legal spiders Here set & spin their viles; To rob the town theyr privlege is, In a hayrea of twelve miles.

The Judge of this year Court Is a mellitary beak. He knows no more of Lor Than praps he does of Greek, And prowides hisself a deputy Because he can not speak.

Four counsel in this Court— Misnamed of Justice—sits; These lawyers owes their places to Their money, not their wits; And there's six attornies under them, As here their living gits.

These lawyers, six and four, Was a livin at their ease, A sendin of their writs abowt, And droring in the fees, When their erose a cirkimstance As is like to make a breeze. It now is some monce since, A gent both good and trew Possest a ansum oss vith vich He didn know what to do: Peraps he did not like the oss, Perhaps he was a scru.

This gentleman his oss At Tattersall's did lodge; There came a wulgar oss-dealer, This gentleman's name did fodge, And took the oss from Tattersall's: Wasn that a artful dodge?

One day this gentleman's groom This willain did spy out, A mounted on this oss, A ridin him about; "Get out of that there oss, you rogue," Speaks up the groom so stout.

The thief was cruel whex'd To find hisself so pinn'd; The oss began to whinny, The honest groom he grinn'd; And the raskle thief got off the oss And cut avay like vind.

And phansy with what joy The master did regard His dearly bluvd lost oss again Trot in the stable yard!

Who was this master good Of whomb I makes these rhymes? His name is Jacob Homnium, Exquire; And if I'd committed crimes, Good Lord! I wouldn't ave that mann Attack me in the TIMES!

Now, shortly after the groomb His master's oss did take up, There came a livery-man This gentleman to wake up; And he handed in a little bill, Which hanger'd Mr. Jacob.

For two pound seventeen This livery-man eplied, For the keep of Mr. Jacob's oss, Which the thief had took to ride. "Do you see any think green in me?" Mr. Jacob Homnium cried.

"Because a raskle chews My oss away to robb, And goes tick at your Mews For seven-and-fifty bobb, Shall I be called to pay?—It is A iniquitious Jobb."

Thus Mr. Jacob cut The conwasation short; The livery-man went ome, Detummingd to ave sport, And summingsd Jacob Homnium, Exquire, Into the Pallis Court

Pore Jacob went to Court, A Counsel for to fix, And choose a barrister out of the four, An attorney of the six; And there he sor these men of Lor, And watched 'em at their tricks. The dreadful day of trile In the Pallis Court did come; The lawyers said their say, The Judge looked wery glum, And then the British Jury cast Pore Jacob Hom-ni-um.

O, a weary day was that For Jacob to go through; The debt was two seventeen (Which he no mor owed than you). And then there was the plaintives costs, Eleven pound six and two.

And then there was his own, Which the lawyers they did fix At the wery moderit figgar Of ten pound one and six. Now Evins bless the Pallis Court, And all its bold ver-dicks!

I can not settingly tell If Jacob swaw and cust, At aving for to pay this sumb, But I should think he must, And av drawm a cheque for L24 4s. 8d. With most igstreme disgust.

O Pallis Court, you move My pitty most profound. A most emusing sport You thought it, I'll be bound, To saddle hup a three-pound debt, With two-and-twenty pound.

Good sport it is to you, To grind the honest pore; To puy their just or unjust debts With eight hundred per cent, for Lor; Make haste and git your costes in, They will not last much mor!

Come down from that tribewn, Thou Shameless and Unjust; Thou Swindle, picking pockets in The name of Truth, august; Come down, thou hoary Blasphemy, For die thou shalt and must.

And go it, Jacob Homnium, And ply your iron pen, And rise up Sir John Jervis, And shut me up that den; That sty for fattening lawyers in, On the bones of honest men.

PLEACEMAN X.

THE WOFLE NEW BALLAD OF JANE RONEY AND MARY BROWN. WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY.

An igstrawnary tail I vill tell you this veek— I stood in the Court of A'Beckett the Beak, Vere Mrs. Jane Roney, a vidow, I see, Who charged Mary Brown with a robbin' of she.

This Mary was pore and in misery once, And she came to Mrs. Roney it's more than twelve monce She adn't got no bed, nor no dinner, nor no tea, And kind Mrs. Roney gave Mary all three.

Mrs. Roney kep Mary for ever so many veeks (Her conduct disgusted the best of all Beax), She kept her for nothink, as kind as could be, Never thinking that this Mary was a traitor to she.

"Mrs. Roney, O Mrs. Roney, I feel very ill; Will you jest step to the doctor's for to fetch me a pill?" "That I will, my pore Mary," Mrs. Roney says she: And she goes off to the doctor's as quickly as may be.

No sooner on this message Mrs. Roney was sped, Than hup gits vicked Mary, and jumps out a bed; She hopens all the trunks without never a key— She bustes all the boxes, and vith them makes free.

Mrs. Roney's best linning gownds, petticoats, and close, Her children's little coats and things, her boots and her hose, She packed them, and she stole 'em, and avay vith them did flee Mrs. Roney's situation—you may think vat it vould be!

Of Mary, ungrateful, who had served her this vay, Mrs. Roney heard nothink for a long year and a day, Till last Thursday, in Lambeth, ven whom should she see? But this Mary, as had acted so ungrateful to she.

She was leaning on the helbo of a worthy young man; They were going to be married, and were walkin hand in hand; And the church-bells was a ringing for Mary and he, And the parson was ready, and a waitin' for his fee.

When up comes Mrs. Roney, and faces Mary Brown, Who trembles, and castes her eyes upon the ground. She calls a jolly pleaseman, it happens to be me; I charge this young woman, Mr. Pleaseman, says she.

Mrs. Roney, o, Mrs. Roney, o, do let me go, I acted most ungrateful I own, and I know, But the marriage bell is a ringin, and the ring you may see, And this young man is a waitin, says Mary, says she.

I don't care three fardens for the parson and clark, And the bell may keep ringing from noon day to dark. Mary Brown, Mary Brown, you must come along with me. And I think this young man is lucky to be free.

So, in spite of the tears which bejewed Mary's cheek, I took that young gurl to A'Beckett the Beak; That exlent justice demanded her plea— But never a sullable said Mary said she.

On account of her conduck so base and so vile, That wicked young gurl is committed for trile, And if she's transpawted beyond the salt sea, It's a proper reward for such willians as she.

Now, yon young gurls of Southwark for Mary who veep, From pickin and stealin your ands you must keep, Or it may be my dooty, as it was Thursday veek To pull you all hup to A'Beckett the Beak. PLEACEMAN X