He knows no more of Lor Four counsel in this Court- These lawyers, six and four, When their erose a cirkimstance It now is some monce since, He didn know what to do: This gentleman his oss At Tattersall's did lodge; One day this gentleman's groom A ridin him about; "Get out of that there oss, you rogue," Speaks up the groom so stout. The thief was cruel whex'd To find hisself so pinn'd; The oss began to whinny, The honest groom he grinn'd; And phansy with what joy Who was this master good Of whomb I makes these rhymes? Now, shortly after the groomb This gentleman to wake up; For two pound seventeen For the keep of Mr. Jacob's oss, Which the thief had took to ride. "Do you see any think green in me?" Mr. Jacob Homnium cried. "Because a raskle chews My oss away to robb, For seven-and-fifty bobb, Thus Mr. Jacob cut The conwasation short; The livery-man went ome, Detummingd to ave sport, And summingsd Jacob Homnium, Exquire, Into the Pallis Court. Pore Jacob went to Court, A Counsel for to fix, And choose a barrister out of the four, An attorney of the six; And there he sor these men of Lor, And watched 'em at their tricks. The dreadful day of trile In the Pallis Court did come; The lawyers said their say, The Judge looked wery glum, And then the British Jury cast Pore Jacob Hom-ni-um. O, a weary day was that For Jacob to go through; The debt was two seventeen (Which he no mor owed than you), And then there was the plaintives costs, Eleven pound six and two. And then there was his own, Which the lawyers they did fix At the wery moderit figgar Of ten pound one and six. Now Evins bless the Pailis Court, And all its bold ver-dicks! I can not settingly tell If Jacob swaw and cust, At aving for to pay this sumb, But I should think he must, And av drawn a cheque for £24 4s. 8d. With most igstreme disgust. O Pallis Court, you move A most emusing sport You thought it, I'll be bound, To saddle hup a three-pound debt, With two-and-twenty pound. Good sport it is to you, To grind the honest pore; To pay their just or unjust debts With eight hundred per cent. for Lor; They will not last much mor! Come down from that tribewn, And go it, Jacob Homnium, On the bones of honest men. PLEACEMAN X. THE WOFLE NEW BALLAD OF JANE RONEY AND MARY BROWN. WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY. AN igstrawnary tail I vill tell you this veek— I stood in the Court of A'Beckett the Beak, Vere Mrs. Jane Roney, a vidow, I see, Who charged Mary Brown with a robbin' of she. This Mary was pore and in misery once, And she came to Mrs. Roney it's more than twelve monce; She adn't got no bed, nor no dinner, nor no tea, And kind Mrs. Roney gave Mary all three. Mrs. Roney kep Mary for ever so many veeks "Mrs. Roney, O Mrs. Roney, I feel very ill ; Will you jest step to the doctor's for to fetch me a pill?" No sooner on this message Mrs. Roney was sped, Mrs. Roney's best linning gownds, petticoats, and close, Of Mary, ungrateful, who had served her this vay, She was leaning on the helbo of a worthy young man; When up comes Mrs. Roney, and faces Mary Brown, I charge this young woman, Mr. Pleaseman, says she. Mrs. Roney, o, Mrs. Roney, o, do let me go, I acted most ungrateful I own, and I know, But the marriage bell is a ringin, and the ring you may see, I don't care three fardens for the parson and clark, So, in spite of the tears which bejewed Mary's cheek, |