What will Mr. Gurney's helpers say to the following


SONNET ON STEAM.

BY AN UNDER-OSTLER.


I wish I livd a Thowsen year Ago
Wurking for Sober six and Seven milers
And dubble Stages runnen safe and slo!
The Orsis cum in Them days to the Bilers
But Now by meens of Powers of Steem forces
A-turning Coches into Smoakey Kettels
The Bilers seam a Cumming to the Orses
And Helps and naggs Will sune be out of Vittels
Poor Bruits I wander How we bee to Liv
When sutch a change of Orses is our Faits
No nothink need Be sifted in a Siv
May them Blowd ingins all Blow up their Grates
And Theaves of Oslers crib the Coles and Giv
Their blackgard Hannimuls a Feed of Slaits!


Space we have not for the whole of "A Letter from a Market Gardener to
the Secretary of the Horticultural Society," but here is the concluding
paragraph:--

"My Wif had a Tomb Cat that dyd. Being a torture Shell and a Grate