The Press. — London, England, 1856-12-06 00:00:00

A SEA SONG. Our good Queen was walking alongside the ocean (Which is hers in good right, as we know ve►y well), When the waves of a sudden ran up in commotion, And left high and dry, an old gent in a shell. Eight quickly a-stepping from out his sea-carriage, Says he, " Mum ! I'm Neptune," and made her a leg ; " I've come with this east wind in no time from Harwich." Says the Queen, " Dear! now have you ? be seated, I beg." " Thankye kindly," says Neptune. " Well now then, my daughter (And he laid down his Trident and squeezed his hair dry), To know all the news and wot's done on the water We takes the Times daily—my missus and I. " Well ! I was a-reading to she at her mirror, Off the Foreland, in five fathom, just at the slack, About them 'ere wessels, th' Erebus and Terror, And I raly was werry much taken a-back. " There's a swab, d'ye see, Mum, that writes in that paper. To say it's no use to send—shiver his jib ! I tell you they're safe from store-room to sky-scraper, Thof' a little bit ice-jammed and squeezed in the rib. " I was in the No'th Sea, t'other day, at Cape Riley, And met by appintment the Father of Whales (Is their young Prince a-blooming, Mum?) Well! be spoke highly Of the crews and the ships and the pluck that perwails. " You've been werry near 'em, leastways what is left there, Them watches and trinkets and what-nots was theirs ; But. shiver my timbers ! if I'd have beleft 'ere That England would have left their poor bones to the bears. "I shan't say how many's alive now and hearty, You know where to go—you've sons ready'and brave; If you don't find poor Crozier, Sir John, and his party, You'll find,—or you ought ! where God's made 'em a grave. " But as for that 'nonymous long-shore swab—Damme ! (I really begs pardon. it's nateral, you know !) HI catch him, I'll colt him, I will though, by Sammy ! I'll cook him in icebergs, and stuff him with snow." But here, as his Godship grew quite red and flurried, He rose, made his scrape, went aboard, and away; And back to her palace our little Queen hurried, To bring her brave men home—or news where they lay. SIR CORNEWALL AND THE SEWERS. (A Scene on Thursday last.) (Enter, to the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER and the CHIEF COMMISSIONER OF WORKS, MR. THWAITES and the Model Parochial Parliament. The usual courtesies having been exchanged, and the Parliament having taken its seat, The CHANCELLOR.—And now, gentlemen, ad rem. A MEMBER (whispering).—Ad what, did he say? Another MEMBER (con fulentially).—Sh! Rem 's short for memo randums—he's looking for 'em. don't you see ? First MEMBER (thankfully) —All ! The CHANCELLOR —I am favoured with your presence, gentlemen, as I gather from documents before me, in order that you may submit to me, as representing the financial department of her Majesty's Go vernment, your reasons for thinking that the metropolis ought not to bear the wh o l e ex p ense o f ma ki n g its e lf decent, and ceasing to be a nuisance. That is the case, I believe, Sir Benjamin? CHIEF COMMISSIONER.—Rem acu te.:egisti, Sir George ? First MEMBER —There's the other with a rem, now. And what's that about ague ? It's cold enough here to give one, certainly. His FRIEND.—Do hold your tongue, will you? Hear what our Ben says. Mr. THWAITES.—Without quarrelling about words, a thing which you must have observed that I never permit the Metropolitan Central Board to do, you have stated the substance of our ease, Sir George. We have no objection—inasmuch as an Act of Parliament demands it —to drain London. But as we are in no respect bound to keep Erith as a comfortable phice for the yacht men who go down to eat Mother Mytton's puddings—or her successor's, which I may incidentally re mark are capital, as is the cuisine at the Crown — The CHANCELLOR (laughing).—Lucky for you that there's no advertisement duty, Mr. Thwaites, or I should be down upon you for eighteenpenee. THE PRESS. DECEMBER 6, 1856. to compare noses, recal incidents, or state collateral facts of no im portance in themselves, hut which, taken in connection with the links of evidence in hand, complete the chain. The murder of Mr. LynLx has been committed for more than three weeks, and yet not a single arrest of importance has been made, although certain persons are under the strict surveillance of the police ; and not a single fact re sulting from the minute investigation held has yet been made public, although the evidence, we have been daily assured for weeks past, will lead to great results. The " great results ' have not yet arrived. What if we should have a little of the evidence? We are inclined to think that though a system of secrecy to a certain extent is of course advisable and necessary, yet when carried to such an extent, it is more certain in effect to defeat than assist the ends of justice 1165 Mr. TnwArrEs.—Well, I'd pay it. But to go on. As we have nothing to do with anything but London, it seems to us that if the country desires to have the Thames kept clean to the sea, the co untry ought to pay for the whim. The CHANCELLOR.—NOW we understand one another. And if I propose a new tax for the purpose, I am to have the political, local, and personal support of every member of the Central Board? To this you pledge yourselves ? The PARLIAMENT (horrified, and all together). —Not a bit of it. No more taxes—any way no more till the Income Tax is off. The CHANCELLOR.-011! I see. Well then, gentlemen, we must look at the matter apart from immediate finance. Now, of course you have looked at the drainage question in every possible view. I need not remind you that the ancient Romans called their drains by the name of cloaca—by-the-by, Sir Benjamin, unde derivatur 2 CHIEF COMMISSIONER.—I don't know ; it's not in my department. CHANCELLOR.—It escapes me at the moment, but is immaterial to the course of my argument. I will, however, consult authorities on my return home, and let you know. CHIEF COMMISSIONER (with a wink at himself).—Pray write to night, I should not sleep unless I knew. I'll give a porter a shilling to bring the letter. CHANCELLOR.—You shall have it. Now, gentlemen, under the Roman Republic we are informed that the Censors had the charge of the cloacce, or drains. This was an appropriate charge ; but you see we have no censorship in this free and constitutional country. We have no censors here. A MEMBER (aside).—Seed two at the Catholic Chapel a Sunday. Thinks he knows everything. Seed 'em myself, smoking like one o'clock. CHANCELLOR.--We must, therefore, I fear, come on to the time of the Emperors. Another MEMBER (aside).—Paris drains is no great things, I've heard. CI •The Emperon appointed officials who wen) called Curatores. Facetious MEMBER (aside).—The boys called 'em cures, I'll bet. CHANCELLOR.—They had the sewers intrusted to them, and a tax, gentlemen, yes, a tax, was levied for keeping them in repair. An Indignant MEMBER (out loud).—Then that just shows that the ancients was no wiser than us, with all their philosophers, and Solons, and Socrateses, and Pintos. Why, we can do that, and call it a sewers rate, without any Latin and Greek. CHANCELLOR.—You are quite correct, Sir, in your deduction, though your premises might be improved. Indignant MEMBER.—What have you got to say against my pre mises, Sir George ? I've just laid out eleving hundred pound, in putting 'em into substantial repair ; and I've took -- (He is silenced by his neighbours, but his indignation is not quenched.) CHANCELLOR.—The principal drain, to which I may liken the sewers which you propose to carry along the Thames bank, was called cloaca maxima ; and there was a right, inherent in every Roman citizen, of the servitus cloaca—namely,' the right of carrying a private drain through a neighbour's property into the great drain. Now, our own common law Mr. THWAITES.—Begging pardon, Sir George, for intercepting, as I might say, the outfall of so much learning, we have more to do with common sewers than common laws. The deputation, being family men, like to dine at one o'clock, with their wives and children, and it's now -- The CHANCELLOR.—Dine at one o'clock ! (Collapses.) CHIEF COMMISSIONER (anyrily.)—Now, see there ! Why the devil, if you are a deputation, can't you behave as such ? Is that the way to intrude your a-la-mode beef and onions upon the Government ? Are you better, Sir George ? CHANCELLOR.—Yes ; a little. But lam unaccustomed to be so sud denly confronted with plebeian ideas—and—l really feel very unwell. Tell 'em—tell 'em to put what they have to say in writing, and I will look at it —I must go. (Exit hastily ) CHIEF COMMISSIONER.—By Jove, of all the uncouth and ungodly assemblages I ever heard of, you gentlemen of the Central Board are the worst. However, I made you, and it's my own fault. You hear what he says—do it. (Exit.) The Metropolitan Central Board rushes away, rather pleased, to its dinners. " A FELLOW " ; OR, THE MOORE OF—BERLIN. (Nor ➢7 SHAKESPEARE.) What were you doing now, Oh, Morris Moore ! When you made all this row ? Oh, Morris Moore ! Plotting or prying, now, Sketching or spying, now, What were you trying, now ? Oh, Morris Moore! But the Conference is waiting man, Oh, Morris Moore ! Where there's more for debating than You, Morris Moore ! Could you not be a hero Without all this gear, oh? For there's plenty without it, now, There ! Morris Moore