y for
A very unprejudiced Chancellor.

Here's the Box, my SIKES! With particular pride
I invite you, WILLIAM, to--step inside,
Some peculiar things, things rich and rare,
I shall have to show you when you are there.
"Will you walk into my par----" _dear_ me!
What a curious matter is memory!
What, _what_ has that old song to do
With the little matter 'twixt me and you?
I apologise for the irrelevance, for
I _am_ such a logical Chancellor!

If you step inside--as I trust you will--
We shall worm out the Truth with forensic skill;
And if you decline--as I hope you won't--
We shall know there are reasons, friend, why you don't.
So the Truth must benefit any way,
My beloved BILL. _What_ is that you say?
You don't care a cuss for the Truth? Oh, fie!
Truth makes one a free man. _Step in and try!_
The triumph of Truth is a triumph for
A highly inquisitive Chancellor!

'Twill be most instructive to Judge and Jury
To hear you give evidence. Why this fury?
We can judge, you see, by the way he'll behave,
'Twixt a simpleton and a clever knave.
The _Times_ says so. Eh! _Confound the Times?_
Oh, _don't_ say _so_, BILL! A man of crimes
Might funk the ordeal; but this is the plan
To help the Law--and the Honest Man;
And therefore the plan of all plans for
A highly compassionate Chancellor!

* * * * *

ROBERT ON THE LORD MARE'S SHO.

Well, I've had the grate good luck to have seen praps as menny Lord Mare's
Shos as most peeple, praps more--not so menny, in course, as that werry old
but slitely hexadgerating Lady, as bowsted as she had seen hunderds on
'em--but for sum things, speshally for Rain, and mud, and slush, the last
one beats 'em all holler! What poor little Whales could have done to put
the Clark of the Whether into sitch a temper, in course I don't know, but
if he'd have had a good rattling attack of the gout in both big Tos, like
some past Lord Mares as we has most on us heard on, he coudn't posserbly
have bin in a wuss one.

Praps them as most xcited my reel pitty was the LORD MARE'S six genelmen in
their luvly new State liverries, and their bewtifool pink silk stockings a
showing of their manly carves, all splashing along through the horful mud,
and made crewel fun of by the damp and thortless crowd. The fust reel
staggerer was the reel Firemen, about a thowsand on 'em, a marching along
as bold as