'Tis time that this Poster were up! _Slap-dap-slosh_!
I think it a telling one. Brave, Big, Blue letters!
Some rivals about, but _their_ programmes won't wash;
Those Newcastle noodles must own us their betters.
I'm Champion Bill-Poster! Even Brum JOEY,
Who flouted me once will acknowledge that fact.
My Bills are so goey, and fetching, and showy,
My paste so adhesive, my brush so exact!

_Slap-slop-slidder-slosh_! There's "stick-phast," if you like.
Bill-sticking like this is an Art, and no error.
Bold letters, brave colour! A poster to strike,--
Admiration with some, and with some, perhaps, terror.
I wish I quite knew that the former preponderate,--
That is, _sufficiently_. Mutterings I hear,--
But there, 'tis a Bill to admire, and to wonder at.
Why, after five seasons' success, should I fear?

Hist! What is that? Thought I heard a low grunt.
Hope not, I'm sure, for I'm sick of stye-voices
ARTHUR of those, has no doubt, borne the brunt;
Now in a semi-relief he rejoices
Pigs are fit only for styes and nose-ringing.
Never let Irish ones run loose and root,
Rather wish ARTHUR were less sweet on flinging
Pearls before pigs; as well feed 'em on fruit.

_Hrumph_! There. I thought so! _Hrumph_! _hrumph_! What a pest!
Sure that big brute has his eye on my ladder.