Patience! End is near.
_Down_! Brute wants a welt!
Modern breed runs queer;
That I long have felt.

'Tother WILLIAM snorts,
L-BBY only grins;
But at most all sports
It is _judgment_ wins.
Breed, though, now consorts
With mongrels--for its sins!

Long the sport I've loved,
Mean to try again,
I should be reproved
Did I speak too plain:
But--are dogs improved
By that Irish strain?

Steady, my lad, steady!
Nearly slipped me then!
You're too hot and heady--
(Like no end of men!--)
_Near_!--but not _quite_ ready.
Steady! _I_'ll say when!

* * * * *

VESTRYMEN CLIMBING DOWN.--Say the unfortunate Nonconformist Vestrymen of
St. George's, Southwark,--"We won't pay the Rector's Rate; but we won't go