I' the Parliament house to be seated, Ye may just as weel send Captain Starkey[18] up tee, Your glory will then be completed.

Let Fame canter on, &c.

Footnote 16: Governor General of the Lunatic House.

Footnote 17: It was reported in the London Papers, that Sir T. B.

intended putting up as a Candidate to serve Newcastle in Parliament.

Footnote 18: An eccentric character well known in Newcastle.

WRECKENTON HIRING.

Oh, Lads and La.s.ses, hither come To Wreckenton, to see the fun, And mind ye bring your Sunday shoon, There'll be rare wark wi' dancing-o.

And La.s.ses now, without a brag, Bring pockets like a fiddle bag, Ye'll get them cramm'd wi' mony a whag Of pepper-kyek an' scranchim-o.

And Bess put on that bonny goon Thy mother bought thou at the toon; That straw-hat wi' the ribbons broon, They'll a' be buss'd that's coming-o: Put that reed ribbon round thy waist, It myeks thou luik sae full o' grace, Then up the lonnen come in haste, They'll think thou's com'd frae Lunnen-o.

Ned pat on his Sunday's coat, His hat and breeches cost a note, With a new stiff'ner round his throat, He luikt the very dandy-o: He thought that he was gaun to choke, For he'd to gyep before he spoke: He met Bess at the Royal Oak, They had baith yell and brandy-o.

Each lad was there wi' his sweetheart, And a' was ready for a start, When in com Jack wi' f.a.n.n.y Smart, And brought a merry Sc.r.a.per-o: Then Ned jump'd up upon his feet, And on the table myed a seat; Then bounc'd the Fiddler up a heet, Saying, 'Play and we will caper-o.'

Now Ned and Bess led off the ball, 'Play Smash the windows,' he did call, 'Keep in yor feet,' says. .h.i.tchy Mall, Learn'd dancers hae sic prancing-o:'

Now Ned was nowther lyeth nor lyem, And faith he had baith bouk and byen, Ye wad thought his feet was myed o' styen, He gav sic thuds wi' dancing-o.

Now Jackey f.a.n.n.y's hand did seize, Cry'd, 'Fiddler, tune your strings to please!'

Play, 'Kiss her weel amang the trees,'

She is my darlin', bliss her-o!

Then off they set, wi' sic a smack, They myed the joints a' bend and crack: When duen he took her round the neck, And faith he dident miss her-o.

The fiddler's elbow wagg'd a' neet, He thought he wad dropt off his seat, For deil a bit they'd let him eat, They were sae keen o' dancin'-o.

Some had to strip their coats for heet, And sarks and shifts were wet wi' sweet!

They cramm'd their guts, for want o' meat, Wi' ginger-breed and scranchim-o.

Now c.o.c.ks had crawn an hour or more, And ower the yell-pot some did snore; But how they luikt to hear the roar Of Matt, the King Pit caller-o!

'Smash him!' says Ned, 'he mun be rang, He's callin' through his sleep, aw's war'n;'

Then shootin' to the door he ran-- 'Thou's asleep, thou rousty bawler-o!'

Now they danc'd agyen till it was day, And then went hyem--but, by the way, Some of them had rare fun, they say, And fand it nine months after-o: Such tricks are play'd by heedless youth; And though they're common, north and south, That's nae excuse for breach of truth, Nor food for wit and laughter-o.

Suen Wreckenton will bear the sway, Two Members they'll put in, they say; Then wor Taxes will be duen away, And we'll a' sing now or never-o: Backey and Tea will be sae cheap, Wives will sit up when they sud sleep, And we'll float in yell at wor Pay-week, Then Wreckenton for ever-o.

ON RUSSELL THE PEDESTRIAN,

Who walked 101 miles in 23 hours, 56 minutes, and 30 seconds, on the 25th & 26th of July, 1822, on the Newcastle Race course.

Men's talents vary--for wise ends design'd, _This_ man has strength of body, _that_, of mind; Each his peculiar art a.s.siduous plies, And every maxim of improvement tries, Till he attain perfection by degrees, And learns to execute his task with ease.

Wilson,[19] desist! and Simpson,[20] take your rest!

Ease and retirement now will suit ye best; Your brief excursions will excite no more That admiration which they did before; Though doubtless ye have both endeavour'd hard, Perhaps without an adequate reward; But such laborious journies lay aside, And if ye can, instead of walking, _ride_.

"Hide your diminish'd heads!" nor vainly talk, Among your friends, how rapidly you walk: First in the annals of Pedestrian fame, Historians now will enter RUSSELL'S name; Where he will most conspicuously shine, And long be hail'd--The Hero of the Tyne.

Upon this art he has so much refin'd, That he leaves all compet.i.tors behind.

With buoyant step we've seen him tread the plain, And hope, ere long, to see him walk again.

Footnote 19: George Wilson, the Blackheath Pedestrian, walked 90 miles in 24 successive hours, on the same ground, on Easter Monday and Tuesday, 1822.

Footnote 20: John Simpson, the c.u.mberland Pedestrian, attempted to walk 96 miles on the same ground, in the same period of time, on Whit-Monday, and again on the 29th and 30th of July, 1822; in both of which attempts he failed.

ON SIMPSON THE PEDESTRIAN'S FAILURE.

Tune--"Barbary Bell."

Sitting crush'd i' the huddock a' gobbing and talking, We were mov'd wiv a spoke frae the little Pee Dee; Ah! Skipper, he says, the auld man 'ill be walking, So we a' rose together and set off to see.

When we gat to the Moor, he was dodging away, man, Wi' twe cheps on each side, keeping a' the folks back; And the bairns running after him, shouting hurra, man, So we just gat a gliff, for he pa.s.s'd in a crack.

Now Barney M'Mullin, his reet hand protector, With a sprig o' shilelagh preparing the way, Was stopt on the road by a publican hector, Who hinted that Barney intended foul play.

If Barney mov'd forward he threaten'd to drop him, For his walking, he said, put the man off his pace; But Barney concluded he'd ne right to stop him, And call'd him a big-gutted rogue to his face.

Every Freeman, says Barney, of land has a small stock, But to dunch people off is most rascally mean; Then their rights were protected by bold Tommy Alc.o.c.k, Who said he'd a share of the pasture sae green.

When Tommy put on his election-day swagger, His genteel appearance made Barney's tongue cease; His speech was sae pointed, it pierc'd like a dagger: So Barney, poor soul, he departed in peace.

We stopt there a' neet, till weel on i' the morning, Expecting he still wad keep dodging away; But he gav us the double, without ony warning, And hodg'd off the Moor, like a sheep gyen astray.

When he enter'd the tent, we were a' sitting drinking, It was thought he had come to get something to eat; But now it appears the poor soul had been thinking On the best ways and means to obtain a retreat.

It seems the auld man had nae notion o' stopping, But as to what ail'd him, he knaws best his sel'; For whether he fail'd in his wind, strength, or bottom, The skipper and I were baith puzzled to tell.

But it's owre and deun, so what signifies talking, Poor man, he must just lay his fist to the spade: Let them that think fit make their living by walking, For his part he's fund it's a very bad trade.

The VICTORY;

or, The CAPTAIN DONE OVER.

Tune--"O the golden days of good Queen Bess."

It happen'd very lately, (upon my word 'tis true, sir,) A party at the Peac.o.c.k supp'd, as I shall shew to you, sir; The names of those I shall disclose, who form'd this happy party, Were Waller Watson, Walton too, both honest blades and hearty; And with them were two friends of theirs, who just had come to town, sir, Hedges and Ingram are their names, both travellers of renown, sir.