" We have long ceased to live in Pumpington.
Fleeting are the tints of the rainbow--perishable the leaf of the
rose--variable the love of woman--uncertain the sunbeam of April; but
naught on earth can be fleeting; so perishable, so variable, or so
uncertain, as the popularity of a provincial reputation.
_Monthly Magazine._
* * * * *
LONDON LYRICS.
* * * * *
JACK JONES, THE RECRUIT.--A HINT FROM OVID.
Jack Jones was a toper: they say that some how
He'd a foot always ready to kick up a row;
And, when half-seas over, a quarrel he pick'd,
To keep up the row he had previously kick'd.
He spent all, then borrow'd at twenty per cent.
His mistress fought shy when his money was spent,
So he went for a soldier; he could not do less,
And scorn'd his fair Fanny for hugging brown Bess.
"Halt--Wheel into line!" and "Attention--Eyes right!"
Put Bacchus, and Venus, and Momus to flight
But who can depict half the sorrows he felt
When he dyed his mustachios and pipe-clay'd his belt?
When Sergeant Rattan, at Aurora's red peep,
Awaken'd his tyros by bawling--"Two deep!"
Jack Jones would retort, with a half-suppress'd sigh,
"Ay! too deep by half for such ninnies as I."
Quoth Jones--"'Twas delightful the bushes to beat
With a gun in my hand and a dog at my feet,
But the game at the Horse-Guards is different, good lack!
Tis a gun in my hand and a cat at my back.
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