We proceed to detail some few things, as a specimen
  Of what are to be found in this novel museum;
  As it opens next month, you may all go and see ’em. 
  Five Woods, of five shades, grain, and polish, and gilding,
  Are used this diversified chamber in building. 
  Not a nail, bolt, or screw, you’ll discover to lurk in it,
  Though six Smiths you will find every evening at work in it. 
  A Forman and Master you’ll see there appended too,
  Whose words or instructions are never attended to. 
  A Leader, whom nobody follows; a pair o’ Knights,
  With courage at ninety degrees of old Fahrenheit’s;
  Full a hundred “Jim Crows,” wheeling round about—­round about,
  Yet only one Turner’s this House to be found about. 
  Of hogs-heads, Lord knows, there are plenty to spare of them,
  But only one Cooper is kept to take care of them. 
  A Ryder’s maintain’d, but he’s no horse to get upon;
  There’s a Packe too, and only one Pusey to set upon. 
  Two Palmers are kept, holy men, in this ill, grim age,
  To make every night their Conservative pilgrimage. 
  A Fuller, for scouring old coats and redressing them;
  A Taylor to fashion; and Mangles for pressing them. 
  Two Stewarts, two Fellowes, a Clerk, and a Baillie,
  To keep order, yet each call’d to order are, daily. 
  A Duke, without dukedom—­a matter uncommon—­
  And Bowes, the delight, the enchantment of woman. 
  This house has a Tennent, but ask for the rent of it,
  He’d laugh at, and send you to Brussels or Ghent for it. 
  Of the animals properly call’d so, a sample
  We’ll give to you gentlefolks now, for example:—­
  There are bores beyond count, of all ages and sizes,
  Yet only one Hogg, who both learned and wise is. 
  There’s a Buck and a Roebuck, the latter a wicked one,
  Whom few like to play with—­he makes such a kick at one. 
  There are Hawkes and a Heron, with wings trimm’d to fly upon,
  And claws to stick into what prey they set eye upon. 
  There’s a Fox, a smart cove, but, poor fellow, no tail he has;
  And a Bruen—­good tusks for a feed we’ll be bail he has. 
  There’s a Seale, and four Martens, with skins to our wishes;
  There’s a Rae and two Roches, and all sorts of fishes;
  There’s no sheep, but a Sheppard—­“the last of the pigtails”—­
  And a Ramsbottom—­chip of the old famous big tails. 
  Now to mention in brief a few trifles extraneous,
  By connoisseurs class’d, “odds and ends miscellaneous:”—­
  There’s a couple of Bells—­frights—­nay, Hottentots real! 
  A Trollope, of elegance le beau ideal. 
  Of Browne, Green, and Scarlett