Cockneys shall come and poke their noses
Into our churns as sweet as roses;
And to quiz MAUDLIN in clean kirtle
The toffs of Town will crush and hurtle.
You'll see the Queen, of pride chock-full,
Take first prize with her Shorthorn bull;
Dr. H. WATNEY, of Buckhold,
With "Cleopatra" hit the gold.
A medal or a champion cup
For cheese to munch, or cream to sup,
Are pleasures rural souls to move,
So live with me and be my love.
Butter and eggs, milch cows and churns,
With cattle foods shall take their turns;
If Dairy Shows thy mind have won,
Then come with me to Islington.
_Viator_. Trust me, Master, it is an apt song, and archly sung by
modish MAUDLIN. I'll bestow a bucolic Cockney's wish upon her, _that
she may live to marry a Competitive Dairyman, and have good store of
champion cups and first prizes stuck about her best parlour._
* * * * *
A LICENCE FOR LORDS.
[At the Blackheath Petty Sessions, Mr. LAWLESS, stated that
the Trafalgar Hotel, belonged to the Lords of the Admiralty,
and asked the Bench to transfer the licence to the resident
caretaker.
Captain ROBERTSON-SHERSBY, J.P.: Why not transfer it to the
First Lord of the Admiralty? Are there no whitebait dinners
held there?
Mr. LAWLESS said that he was afraid that the days of whitebait
dinners were over.
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