We are requested to state that the insane person who lately attempted to
obtain an entrance into Buckingham Palace was not the Finsbury renegade,
Mr. Wakley. We are somewhat surprised that the rumour should have obtained
circulation, as the unfortunate man is described as being of respectable
appearance.

* * * * *


THE CORSAIR.

A POEM TO BE READ ON RAILROADS.

The sky was dark--the sea was rough;
The Corsair's heart was brave and tough;
The wind was high--the waves were steep;
The moon was veil'd--the ocean deep;
The foam against the vessel dash'd:
The Corsair overboard was wash'd.
A rope in vain was thrown to save--
The brine is now the Corsair's grave!

As it is expected that the jogging and jerking, or the sudden passing
through tunnels, may in some degree interfere with the perusal of this
poem, we give it with the abbreviations, as it is likely to be read with
the drawbacks alluded to.

Wherever there is a dash--it is supposed there will be a jolt of the
vehicle.