One Sir Rufus Mountfardington, Lord of Foot's-cray, Whose estate, not unlike those of most of our "Swell" beaux,

Was, what's, by a metaphor, term'd "out at elbows; " And the fact was, said Knight was now merely delay'd From crossing the water to join the Crusade

For converting the Pagans with bill, bow, and blade,

By the want of a little pecuniary aid

To buy arms and horses, the tools of his trade,
And enable his troop to appear on parade;

The unquiet Shade Thought Sir Rufus, 'tis said,
Just the man for her money, -she readily paid
For the articles named, and with pleasure convey'd
To his hands every farthing she ever had made:

But alas! I'm afraid Most unwisely she laid Out her cash-the beaux yeux of a Saracen maid (Truth compels me to say a most pestilent jade) Converted the gallant converter-betray'd Him to do everything which a Knight could degrade, -E'en to worship Mahound! -She required-He

obey'd,

The consequence was, all the money was wasted
On Infidel pleasures he should not have tasted;
So that, after a very short respite, the Hag
Was seen down in her cellar again with her bag.

Don't fancy, dear Reader, I mean to go on
Seriatim through so many ages bygone,

And to bore you with names Of the Squires and

the Dames,

Who have managed, at times, to get hold of the sack, But spent the cash so that it always came back;

The list is too long To be given in my song, There are reasons beside, would perhaps make it wrong; I shall merely observe, in those orthodox days, When Mary set Smithfield all o'er in a blaze,

And show'd herself very se- -vere against heresy, While many a wretch scorned to flinch, or to scream,

as he

Burnt for denying the Papal supremacy,

Bishop Bonner the bag got, And all thought the

Hag got

Releas'd as he spent all in fuel and faggot.

But somehow-though how I can't tell you, I vow

I suppose by mismanagement-ere the next reign
The Spectre had got all her money again.

The last time, I'm told, That the Old Woman's
gold

Was obtained, -as before, -for the asking-'twas had
By a Mr. O-Something-from Ballinafad;
And the whole of it, so 'tis reported, was sent
To John Wright's, in account for the Catholic Rent,
And thus-like a great deal more money-it went!

So 'tis said at Maynooth, But I can't think it's
truth;

Though I know it was boldly asserted last season,

Still I can not believe it; and that for this reason,
It's certain the cash has got back to its owner !
-Now no part of the Rent to do so e'er was known,-or,
In any shape, ever come home to the donor.

GENTLE READER!-you must know the proverb, I think,

"To a blind horse a Nod is as good as a Wink!"

Which some learned Chap, In a square College сар,

Perhaps, would translate by the words "Verbum Sap!"

-Now should it so chance That you're going to

France

In the course of next Spring, as you probably may,

Do pull up, and stay, Pray, If but for a day, At Dover, through which you must pass on your way, At the York, or the Ship, -where, as all people say, You'll get good wine yourself, and your horses good hay, Perhaps, my good friend, you may find it will pay, And you cannot lose much by so short a delay.

First DINE!-you can do That on joint or ragoût

Then say to the waiter, -" I'm just passing through,Pray, where can I find out the old Maison Dieu?" He'll show you the street-(the French call it a Rue, But you won't have to give here a petit écu).

Well, when you've got there, never mind how you're

taunted,

Ask boldly, "Pray, which is the house here that's

haunted?"

-I'd tell you myself, but I can't recollect

The proprietor's name; but he's one of that sect

Who call themselves "Friends," and whom others cail

"Quakers,"—

You'll be sure to find out if you ask at the Baker's,

Then go down with a light, To the cellar at night!

And as soon as you see her don't be in a fright!

But ask the old Hag, At once, for the bag !If you find that she's shy, or your senses would dazzle,

Say, "Ma'am, I insist!-in the name of St. Basil!"

If she gives it you, seize It, and-do as you
please-

But there is not a person I've ask'd but agrees,
You should spend-part at least for the Old Woman's

ease!

-For the rest if it must go back some day-why-let it!

Meanwhile, if you're poor, and in love, or in debt, it May do you some good, and I WISH YOU MAY GET

IT!!!

To whom is the name of Cornelius Agrippa otherwise than familiar, since "a Magician," of renown not inferior to his own, has brought him and his terrible "Black Book" again before the world?-That he was celebrated, among other exploits, for raising the Devil, we are all well aware ;-how he performed this feat, -at least one, and that, perhaps, the most certain method, by which he did it, -is thus described.

RAISING THE DEVIL.

A LEGEND OF CORNELIUS AGRIPPA.
"AND hast thou nerve enough?" he said,
That Grey old Man, above whose head
Unnumber'd years had roll'd, -
"And hast thou nerve to view," he cried,
"The incarnate Fiend that Heaven defied!
-Art thou indeed so bold?

"Say, canst Thou, with unshrinking gaze,
Sustain, rash youth, the withering blaze

Of that unearthly eye,

That blasts where'er it lights, -the breath
That, like the Simoom, scatters death

On all that yet can die!

-" Darest thou confront that fearful form,
That rides the whirlwind, and the storm,
In wild unholy revel!