[Illustration:  A NAUTICAL TALE.]

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SONGS FOR THE SENTIMENTAL.

No.  II.

  You say you would find
    But one, and one only,
  Who’d feel without you
    That the revel was lonely: 
  That when you were near,
    Time ever was fleetest,
  And deem your loved voice
    Of all music the sweetest. 
  Who would own her heart thine,
    Though a monarch beset it,
  And love on unchanged—­
    Don’t you wish you may get it?

  You say you would rove
    Where the bud cannot wither;
  Where Araby’s perfumes
    Each breeze wafteth thither. 
  Where the lute hath no string
    That can waken a sorrow;
  Where the soft twilight blends
    With the dawn of the morrow;
  Where joy kindles joy,
    Ere you learn to forget it,
  And care never comes—­
    Don’t you wish you may get it?

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“SYLLABLES WHICH BREATHE OF THE SWEET SOUTH.”

JOEY HUME is about to depart for Switzerland:  for, finding his flummery of no avail at Leeds, we presume he intends to go to Schaff-hausen, to try the Cant-on.

MARRIAGE AND CHRISTENING EXTRAORDINARY.

We beg to congratulate Lord John Russell on his approaching union with Lady Fanny Elliot.  His lordship is such a persevering votary of Hymen, that we think he should be named “Union-Jack.”

* * * * *

OMINOUS.

LORD PALMERSTON, on his road to Windsor, narrowly escaped being upset by a gentleman in a gig.  We have been privately informed that the party with whom he came in collision was—­Sir Robert Peel.

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CROSS READINGS.

          (REC.)
        If you ever should be
        In a state of ennui,
        Just listen to me,
        And without any fee
    I’ll give you a hint how to set yourself free. 
    Though dearth of intelligence weaken the news,
    And you feel an incipient attack of the blues,
    For amusement you never need be at a loss,
    If you take up the paper and read it across. 
        (INTER ARIA DEMI LOQUI.)
        Here’s the Times, apropos,
          And so,
        With your patience, I’ll show
    What I mean, by perusing a passage or two. 
          (ARIA.)
  “Hem!  Mr. George Robins is anxious to tell,
  In very plain prose, he’s instructed to sell”—­
  “A vote for the county”—­“packed neatly in straw”—­
  “Set by Holloway’s Ointment”—­“a limb of the law.” 
  “The army has had secret orders to seize”—­
  “As soon as they can”—­“the industrious fleas.” 
    For amusement you never need be at a loss,
    If you take a newspaper and read it across.