A TELEGRAM.

(From the St. Andrew's Society of Kingston, in response to a greeting from their brethren of Montreal, dining there on St. Andrew's night, 1869, and having Prince Arthur as one of their guests.)

OUR brithers by Mount Royal braw,
We gladly greet ye, ane an' a'!
Wishing ye lochs o' uisgebaugh
To wet your whistles

Made dry, nae doubt, ba many a blaw
'Bout Kilts and Thistles !

What tho' we canna boast, like ye,
A plaided prince frae Hieland Dee,
We're quite contented o'er our bree,
An wad be happy

To pledge ye now, wi' three times three,
That royal chappie.

May he in due time be renown'd
As Arthur of the Table Round,—
In all that's noble, manly, found
Without a flaw,-

A prince 'mang princes peerless own'd :
His health! Hurrah!

TO MISS GOODALL,

OF THE SALVATION ARMY, ON HER REMOVAL FROM KINGSTON.

THOU of the fair Madonna face,

In all its matchless, rare completeness,
Well may we grieve so soon to miss
A girl of such angelic sweetness.

Well may the friends who know thee best
Be proud to live in thy esteem,
And in their prayers to heaven addressed
Remember oft thy happy name.

Were Paul but here when "Abbie" won
Warm praises from our gravest teachers,
Methinks he'd never be the man

To bar or ban thy sex as preachers.

Nor would he find in thee less zeal

Our thoughts and hopes to heavenward raise ; He loved his Master's cause too well To frown on thy soul-winning ways.

To think with what persuasive grace
The "old, old story," ever new,
Come from thy lips may well increase
Our grief at bidding thee adieu.

To-day thou leavest us, yet though
Thy face no more we here may see,
With much of love and blessing too
Our thoughts shall often turn to thee.
17th Jan., 1885.

IMPROMPTU.

(On seeing Miss. B. S., of Hamilton, a little girl not yet in her teens).

GIRL of the sweet, seraphic mien
And manners so enchanting,
To make thee quite an angel seem,
The wings alone are wanting!

JOHN BULL, if he likes, may get smothered in roses,-
The odour of leek give to Cambrian noses;
Let Pat praise the grace which the Shamrock discloses,-
The bonnie blue Thistle of Scotland for me!

Its stern "Nemo me impune lacessit "

Has just the right ring for the race who caress it; They aye come to grief who too rudely would press it : The bonnie blue Thistle of Scotland for me!

Fierce kings from far Lochlin, to break or to bend it,
Oft tried all their might-vow'd by Odin to end it :
Let Loncarty-Largs-show what luck them attended;
The bonnie blue Thistle of Scotland for me!
The Saxon next tried with the Rose to supplant it,
But found a reception ne'er dream'd of or wanted;
Retreat, or a grave, was just all he was granted!
The bonnie blue Thistle of Scotland for me!

Our emblem, true blue as the Heaven above it—

What bard worth the name would not proudly sing of it?

What patriot heart would not bless it and love it?
The bonnie blue Thistle of Scotland for me!
Well, well may the sons of St. Andrew revere it,
All Scotsmen delight in their bonnets to wear it,

And proudly defy any symbol to peer it :

The bonnie blue Thistle of Scotland for me!

UPPER TENDUM.

AIR-"Behave yoursel' Before Folk."

'Tis fit that humbler folk should show
Due reverence for the great High-low ;
Hats off for Snooks! Why, don't
He's of our Upper-tendum !

CHORUS-Sing hey for Upper-tendom !

you know

Good luck to all who cherish it!

Though vulgar folk its claims may mock,

Still great is Upper-tendom!

What though the mother of Fitzfluke
Once was where now she has a cook,

Let's all do homage to the-puke.
He goes for Upper-tendom!
Sing hey, &c.