t.
Clusters of uncoated Yorkers, vainly striving to be cool,
Saw thee desperately plunging through the perils of la Poule:
And their muttered exclamation drowned the tenor of the tune,--
"Don't he beat all natur hollow? Don't he foot it like a 'coon?"

Did we spare our brandy-cocktails, stint thee of our whisky-grogs?
Half the juleps that we gave thee would have floored a Newman Noggs;
And thou took'st them in so kindly, little was there then to blame,
To thy parched and panting palate sweet as mother's milk they came.
Did the hams of old Virginny find no favour in thine eyes?
Came no soft compunction o'er thee at the thought of pumpkin pies?
Could not all our chicken fixings into silence fix thy scorn?
Did not all our cakes rebuke thee,--Johnny, waffle, dander, corn?
Could not all our care and coddling teach thee how to draw it mild?
Well, no matter, we deserve it. Serves us right! We spoilt the child!
You, forsooth, must come crusading, boring us with broadest hints
Of your own peculiar losses by American reprints.

Such an impudent remonstrance never in our face was flung;
Lever stands it, so does Ainsworth; _you_, I guess, may hold your tongue.
Down our throats you'd cram your projects, thick and hard as pickled
salmon,
That, I s'pose, you call free trading,--I pronounce it utter gammon.
No, my lad, a 'cuter vision than your own might soon have seen,
That a true Columbian ogle carries little that is green;
That we never will surrender useful privateering rights,
Stoutly won at glorious Bunker's Hill, and other famous fights;
That we keep our native dollars for our native scribbling gents,
And on British manufacture only waste our straggling cents;
Quite enough we pay, I reckon, when we stump of these a few
For the voyages and travels of a freshman such as you.

I have been at Niagara, I have stood beneath the Falls,
I have marked the water twisting over its rampagious walls;
But "a holy calm sensation," one, in fact, of perfect peace,
Was as much my first idea as the thought of Christmas geese.
As for "old familiar faces," looking through the misty air,
Surely you were strongly liquored when you saw your Chuckster there.
One familiar face, however, you will very likely see,
If you'll only treat the natives to a call in Tennessee,
Of a certain individual, true Columbian every inch,
In a high judicial station, called by 'mancipators Lynch.
Half an hour of conversation with his worship in a wood,
Would, I str