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TO THE PROPRIETOR OF
A word in your ear, Mr. Cumberland, pray-
* The following festive chant is attributed to Mr. Lunn, whose physiognomy is peculiarly harmonious :
Three merry men,
Thackeray, Buckstone, and Me!!!
Gustavus is done to a T;
Except when he steals from Me!
Homer of old, and Virgil, we're toid,
And Shakespeare, they say, make a ThreeBuckstone, you and I, O, and Thackeray, chant a Trio
Bravo, my lads, so do We.
Three merry men, three merry men,
Three merry men we be;
Who cares a fig for D. G.?
+ It is whispered that Dibdin Pitt is hard at work upon Hamlet, which he intends bringing out at one of our metro
O blindly infatuate! thus to permit
politans under the title of “ The Ghost of Denmark Hill, or the Spectre of Camberwell !” The following dedication has been handed about in manuscript :
“ My dear Ball !
Why write yourself. Fitz ?' You are no spurious offspring of Apollo, but a true swan of Helicon! I should as soon think of saying Fitz-Homer, Fitz-Milton, or FitzShakespeare, as Fitz-Ball.
Talking of Shakespeare, puts me in mind of myself! I found Hamlet brick-I leave it stucco; nobody will know it to be Shakespeare's—every body when I play it, will swear it to be mine.
“ You have been called Victor Hugo of the Surrey side. Yet, my dear Ball, (I love to be droll!) how much farther do you go than Victor, in the ghastly-terrible, and ghostlygrim! His tintinabulum is a muffin-bell, compared to your triple bob major. “ Never mind that D. G., however queer on your cog
He says you are a tennis ball, because you take loftier flights than your brother bards; a cricket ball, because you are chirruping ; a billiard ball, because
have an eye to the pockets; a trap ball, because you have been
If my humble talent might try such a leap,
wrote himSo you'll guess that I'm not very likely to quote
him ! And Massinger, Fletcher, and surly Old Ben, Shall never be grac'd with a scratch of my pen, They liv'd, scribbled, died-n'importe where, what,
and when !
trapped by the club. Be content that you are an earthly ball, with a touch of the heavenly.
“ It has been hinted that I am jealous of your transcendant genius ! Jealous !—Come, I like that; as the cat said to the sugared cream
Together we have ranged the fies,
And stalk'd the boards, and smelt the lamps-
And all who think the same are scamps!
I dedicate the rhymes
Of Neddy Ball and Dibdin Pitt!”
(1) “ The Miller and his Men,” in Henrietta Street.
My Jerrold's the herald of wit and romance,
* Paired, but not matched. The talented dramatist of “ Charles XII,” and the writer of the following !
“ When a Lord of the Creation says, ' Pray, madame, do
so and so,'
As experience shows every day;
As when they have all their own way!" &c. &c. &c.!!