MONDAY, MARCH 13, 1826.
The Budget–quite charming and witty–no hearing,
For plaudits and laughs, the good things that were in it;–
Great comfort to find, tho’ the speech isn’t cheering,
That all its gay auditors were every minute.
What, still more prosperity!–mercy upon us,
“This boy’ll be the death of me”–oft as, already,
Such smooth Budgeteers have genteelly undone us,
For Ruin made easy there’s no one like Freddy.
Much grave apprehension exprest by the Peers,
Lest–calling to life the old Peachums and Lockitts–
The large stock of gold we’re to have in three years,
Should all find its way into highwaymen’s pockets!
Little doing–for sacred, oh Wednesday, thou art
To the seven-o’-clock joys of full many a table–
When the Members all meet, to make much of that part,
With which they so rashly fell out in the Fable.
It appeared, tho’, to-night, that–as church-wardens yearly,
Eat up a small baby–those cormorant sinners.
The Bankrupt Commissioners, bolt very nearly
A moderate-sized bankrupt, tout chaud, for their dinners!
Nota bene–a rumor to-day, in the city,
“Mr. Robinson just has resigned”–what a pity!
The Bulls and the Bears all fell a sobbing,
When they heard of the fate of poor Cock Robin:
While thus, to the nursery tune, so pretty,
A murmuring Stock-dove breathed her ditty:–
Alas, poor Robin, he crowed as long
And as sweet as a prosperous Cock could crow;
But his note was small and the gold-finch’s song
Was a pitch too high for Robin to go.
Who’ll make his shroud?
“I,” said the Bank, “tho’ he played me a prank,
“While I have a rag, poor Rob shall be rolled in’t,
“With many a pound I’ll paper him round,
“Like a plump rouleau–without the gold in it.”
 “Another objection to a metallic currency was, that it produced a greater number of highway robberies.”–Debate in the Lords.
 Mr. Abercromby’s statement of the enormous tavern bills of the Commissioners of Bankrupts.