The Press.
London, England, 1856-05-10 00:00:00

THE PRESS.

A VERY TRIFLING PIECE.
It was Nurse George of Clarendon stood up and audience prayed—
Quoth she, " I bring this Noble House a little Peace we've made;
Morning and noon we sat thereon, before it would appear."
Well, now its hatched," said all the House, " let's see the little dear."
" Gramercy ! Peers, i' faith, great Sirs, it's not meant for the light ;
Besides, it wasn't meant for show—it isn't—hern ! dressed, quite."
Nay ! good Nurse, nay! " the House did say, " we'll see it pure and
simple ';
Oblige us by exhibiting each individual dimple."
Forthwith that " Nuss," with inward "cuss," unpinned its threefold
shawl,

England's torn flag, and Turkey's rag, and the tricolour of Gaul.
Grisly were all the Tory Peers, and all the Whigs were grim,
While good Lord Derby looked at it and Clarendon at him.
I wcen it was a sound unmeet for a fond Nurse's ear
To catch the first of their disgust when the bantling did appear.
" 13y
_all that's mild ! is that the Child ?" quoth Malmesbury, with a

frown.
By all that's blue !" quoth Ellesmere too, "it really can't go down."
But, very so3th ! 'twas piteous, truth ! Nurse Clarendon's dismay,
She dandled it and fondled it and strove nice things to say ;
She praised it and she petted it—they only sneered and listened ;
They wouldn't be its Godfathers, and she couldn't get it christened.

" See how it notices !" said she. " It's noticed Italy !
And Greece ! good Lords ; and then it speaks its speech so capit'lly.
Say you it speaks ? " quoth one ; " it squeaks ! it gibbers ! and, oh, la !
How like it is to Louis !" " Yes," says Nurse, " it's like its Pa!"
Out spake Ellesmere, " It's very queer, lend me your eye-glass, Meath !
And these great rolls—all protocols ! Nurse, was it born with teeth ? "
Why, deary me ! they're drawn, you see ! else it had such a lot.
Count Buol and that Wale wski would—l told them both to not.'

" Just take the child," she said, and smiled, " my good Lord Ellesmere,
now,

Like a dear man." But fast that smile passed from her puckered
brow

When Derby spake, " For its namesake, tho' tis against good sense,
Thus much we give—thy brat shall live ; now, therefore, get it hence ! "
Sad sight it was to see Nurse George discomfited sit down,
To see her bundle up young Peace, and pin his patchy gown ;
To see it chucked to Cowley, and to hear her say, " I' feggs,
I've done with him ; here, Cowley ! catch ! and teach him to suck eggs."

Sir C. Noon.—That wrecked ship of Stanfield's is admirable ; the
correctness with which he has given every portion of her is lost, I dare
say, upon your eyes; but I assure you it is masterly.
Sir B. HALL—SIX to four the First Lord don't put his finger where
the mizenmast should be.

Sir C. Woo D.—l could; but it is forbidden to touch the paintings.
(General shout.) Well, there then. (Is right.) Now. I know that's
right, for at the review I heard men ordered to the wizen shrouds
when I was standing on the poop, and they came up to the mast I was
leaning against.

AIL.--By Jove !
Sir C. WOOD.—I should say so. " The Deluge." Don't like that—
the water couldn't surge so with the wind in the direction there given.
Lord PALMERSTON (gravely).—You forget that the time was ante-
diluvian.

Sir C. Wool) (convinced).—True, true; that had escaped me. You
are quite right; and the apparent incongruity muy be justified. There's
no Noah introduced, I see.

Mr. OsnoßsE.—No, the buoys broken away; but there's Southend
in the distance. (Disapprobation.)
Lord GRANVILLE.—The cause of Education seems at a discount;
there's scarcely a dame's school iu the collection.

Lord PALMERSTON.-111 adduce that fact the next time the subject
comes up, in proof that the public take no interest in it; and, there•
fore, movement is premature. I've made smaller things than that
useful in my time. Learn, young statesmen, to pick up hints where-
ever you go. What a bore this dinner will be. What picture ought
one to allude to?

Lord GRANVILLE.—The subject is, of course, Peace.
Millais' work—

There's

Lord PALMERSTON.—Yes ; but the old Acads hate a compliment to
a young fellow.
Lord GRANVlLLS.—Landseer's " Highland Nurses.'

Lord PALMERSTON.—And that's go good, too, that they won't like
to have it mentioned. Is there nothing mediocre and respectable, like
Harrowby 9 I shall see something, as Igo round. Granworth, you'll
have to speak about art and its connection with the Woolsack; what
painting do you mean to bring in ?

Lord CRANWORTFI.--I can't tind anything that has anything to do
with the law, except a capital bust of Cockburn, downstairs.
Lord PALMERSTON.—NO, no ; it's not Alexander's Feast, to-day.
Lord GRANVILLE.—I saw in the list " Another Hair of the Dog that
Bit You." Does that mean a Chancery Appeal Case, when Cranny
wears his other wig ? If so, there's his text.
Lord CRANWORTH.—Is there nothing out of history?
Mr. V. SMITH.—Yes ; there's " Toothache in the Middle Ages "
very funny.
Lord PALMERSTON.—The choice is not rich; but we must do what
we can. There is not even a Signature of a Treaty to hang a bit of
flourish upon.
Lord PANMITRE (slily).—No ; but I saw a little picture "Notice to
Quit."

Lord PALMERSTON.—Don't you play with edge tools ; but you've
been so accustomed to the Sheffield rubbish you send out to the
army that you forget the danger.
Lord PANMURE.—When a man loses his temper—

Lord PALMERSTON.—Who'm losing his tempei.? Are you?
Lord PANMURE.—I do not say that anybody is.
Lord PALMERSTON.-0 ! That's as well. (Silence for some time.)
(Enter the PRESIDENT.)
Lord PALMERSTON.—Ah ! Sir Charles—charmed to see you—
delightful exhibition—highly gratifying, excellent, remarkable—we
are quite enchanted—but where are you, Mr. Pre,ideut—where are
you—reposing on your laurels, eh?—but we can't allow that yet—we
cannot afford to let you enjoy yourself—&c. &c. &c. &c.

LORD DALHOUSIE'S PENSION.
The silent oracle at length has spoken,
And Harrowby no longer is a myth,
At last the spell which tied his tongue is broken
In eloquent defence of Vernon Smith.
The mild philanthropist we thought so
The tamest turncoat of his trimming race,
The milk and water of his soul turn'd acid,

• -
And virtuous anger flushing his pale face,
Denounced, iu terms more truculent than pions,
The daring doubters of Dalhousie's fame—
The man who did so much to glorify us
By stealing realms to which we had no claim
" Torture ! I have no patience ; nay, sincerely,
Such twaddle makes me sick, as alive.
You've given NVilliams just one thousand yearly,
You cannot grudge our torturing Marquis fire! g
Whigs, when in place, they say become good Tories
(The country only wishes that they did) ;
Philanthropists in power ascribe our glories
To torturing slaves who won't pay when they're bid

Thus evangelic Harrowby is furious
When we object to flaying the Hindoos ;
They pay their taxes—we should not be curious
To learn the means the tax collectors use
Red ants he thinks a very mild correction ;
Steeping iu flaming oil both just and wise ;
And really cannot see the least objectiun
To sticking red-hot needles in their eyes.