Out o' breath as it is. Ah, hang
This hurrying business! My mouth's like a crater,
Dreadfully dry, and doosedly hot.
Rather a downer, this is, for SCOTT's lot!
Feared Mrs. Manchester _might_ just say
(In the popular patter of my young day)
"_It is all very well_ (with a wink and a jeer),
_But you_, Master FERGUSSON, _don't lodge here!_"
All right now, though! Saved my bacon.
My defeat might the Cause have shaken.
Just in time. There! Popped it in!
Awfully glad it conveys a Win;
Although One Fifty ain't _much_ to boast,--
'Twixt you and me and the (General) Post!

* * * * *

WILLIAM HENRY SMITH.

BORN, JUNE 24, 1825. DIED, OCTOBER 6, 1891.

O'er-busy Death, your scythe of late seems reaping
Swiftly our heads of State;
The wise who hold our England's weal in keeping,
The gentle and the great.

GRANVILLE is gone; and now another Warden
Falls with the fading leaf,
Leaving at Hatfield sorrow, and at Hawarden
Scarcely less earnest grief.