The Sun.
London, England, 1828-10-21 00:00:00

KENT MEETING.

This Meeting has called forth the following
Squib, which are in circulation at the scene of

action :

BLUE BANNERS WITH A GREEN BORDER !

A NEW BALLAD.

Air—" All the blue Bonoets are over the Border."

March, march, Brydges and Winchelsea!
Why don't ye, Brunswickers, march in good order
March, march, Wells "of the bloody knee !"
All the Blue Banners have got a Green Border'.
Many a logger-head
Thinks o' the day with dread,
Crazed and amazed at his own undertaking ;.
But having rous'd the game,
On they must go for shame,
Flogg'd by a red of their own clever making !
March, march, Brydges and Winchelsea!
Why don't ye, Brunswickers, march iu good
order ?
March, march, Wells " of the bloody knee !"
All the Blue Banners have got a Green Border !
Conte from Eastwell, where the rabbits were smother'd !
Come too from Howlett's cold griping domain !
Conic from the Hatch of the Culholic•Molher'rl
Come from the Berestbrd bog of Coleraine
Conic from each lurking den,
All " Hole and Corner" men,
Soon you'll run back in disgrace and disorder :
Kent shall exulting say,
That was her proudest day
When the Blue Banners put on the Green Border'.
March, march, Hammond and Winchelsea,
Why don't ye, Brunswickers, march in good
order ?

March, march, Wells " of the bloody knee,"
All the Blue Banners have got the Green Border
Canterbury.—(Wood. Printer, Canterbury)

I'D BE A BRUNSWICKER
A New ballad to be sung at the Brunswick Anniversary

Dinner, October 24, 1828.

Air—" I'd be a Butterfly."

I'd be a Brunswicker, famed as a fool,
First in the throng where the silly ones meet ;
Listening to every contemptible to'd,
And ready to run where thy bell-wethers bleat !
I'd never enter the Liberal School,
I'd trample Freedom under my feet ;
I'd be a Brunswicker, famed as a fool,
But first in the field where the Bigotted meet :
I'd he a Brunswicker, I'd he a Brunswicker,
First in the field where the Bigotted meet!
Oh could I handle the arms of a Yeoman,
Carbine and blunderbuss, bullets, and all,
Stoutly I'd fight, if I had for a foeman
A Papist who'd got neither powder nor ball !
fd make my broth ci the blood of a " Roman,"
I'd grind, for bread, his bones great and small;
I'd be a Brunswicker, armed as a Yeoman,
With gore-dropping sabre and death-striking ball.
I'd be a Brunswicker, I'd be a Brunswicker,
Proud of my sabre and death-striking ball!
What though you tell me a Christian should ever
Shrink from imbruing his hands so in blood;
Surely in this Anti-Popish endeavour,
A Churchman of England should shed a whole flood ;
Some wily Infidels strive to dissever
Church front the State—tumbling both in the mud!--
But FA be a Brunswicker toasting for ever
Tithes, Church, and King, in a bowl full of blood!
I'd be a Brunswicker, I'd be a Brunswicker,
Toasting the Tithes, even " knee-deep" in blood!
canterhury.—(W, ad, Printer, Canterbury.)

The lion. Colonel GRANT of Grant, has re-
cently constructed a very handsome shooting lodge con-
tiguous to •Lochindorb Castle, the approach to which
branches off from the Military road at the Inn of Dava,
and, after going about two miles up the banks of the Dor-
bach, winds along the southern margin of the Lake, nearly
to its furthest extremity. The lodge is situated on a small
promontory extending into the
Lake and surrounded with
a beautiful plantation, which will in a short time render
this a peculiarly delightful summer residence. The Lake
being supplied with immense quantities of trout affords
admirable sport to the lovers of angling. It is much re-
sorted to in the summer time, by visitors from Castle
Grant (whence it is distant about ten miles), who here have
in perfection, as suits their fancy, the amusements of shoot-
ing, sailing, or tishing._E/gin Courier.