Doctors strike! -never heard of such a thing. To be sure, they may strike a death-blow now and then; but doctors striking was a new sort of a conspiracy. The French waiters only shrugged up their shoulders with a "Que voulez vous, monsieur !" a most tantalizing reply to a man who cannot get anything that he wants. An English resident in the room explained matters. "We have, sir," he said, "several British practitioners in this place: many of them are men of considerable merit; but the learned body have just been thrown into a revolution by a Scotch physician, a Dr. M'Crusoe. The usual fee here, is a five-franc piece, or four shillings and twopence English; a sum so very small that many English are ashamed to tender it. M'Crusoe therefore proposed to his brethren that they should claim a higher remuneration.'

"Jantlemen," he said, "it's dero-gatory tul the deegnety of a pheeseecian like huz, who hae received a leeberal eeducation, mare aspeecially mysel', wha grauduated at Mo-dern Authens, tul accep' sic a pautry fee as four an' tippence. No maun intertains mare contemp' for siller than aw do; but the varry least we aught tul expec' is ten fraunks for day veesits, an' eleven fraunks for nighet calls; fare from the varry heegh price of oil and caundles, at the varry lowest caulculation, it costs me mare than ten baubees per noctem to keep my noghcturnal lamp in pro-per trim. An' aw therefore houp in this deceesion we wull support each eather ho-nestly and leeberally. Aw need na remind jantlemen of yere erudeetion of the wee bit deformed body Esop's fable, o' the bundle o' stucks, or o' the faucees of the Ro-man leectors, union cone-stitutes straingth. Therefore aw repeat it, aw trust ye wull enforce this raigulation like men o' indepaindence, an' conscious of the deegnity o' science."

All the doctors acquiesced in the expediency of his project, and to that effect signed a resolution, with which M'Crusoe walked off, and read the document with a loud and audible voice, as sternly as a magistrate could read the riot act, at Stubb's corner. The indignation of the community knew no bounds; their wrath foamed and bubbled like the falls of Niagara; they swore by the heads of Galen and Esculapius that they would rather die of the pip, expire in all the agonies of hepatitis, gastritis, enteritis, and all the itises that were ever known, than give one centime more than five francs; nay, in their fury, they swore they would throw themselves into the hands of French doctors, and swallow a gallon of tisane a day for a fifteen-pence fee; and hundreds of letters were sent off to Scotland for cheap doctors. This was what Dr. M'Crusoe wanted: he immediately circulated himself in every hole and corner to inform the public that,.

"In consequence of illeeberality o' ma breethren, under exusting cercumstaunces, aw feel mysel' called upon by pheelauntropy and humaunity to tak' whatever ma patients can afford to gie me.'

Such was the state of the faculty of Boulogne when Cannon swore he was poisoned. A French doctor came and ordered him four grains of tartar emetic in a gallon of hot water; and as French doctors are very kind and attentive to their patients, acting both as physicians and nurses, Cannon's attendant had the extreme benevolence to remain with him until he had not only swallowed, but restored, every minim of this bounteous potation, which really amounted to the full capacity that Cannon possessed of containing fluids. 2 M

VOL. II.

Whether there was anything deleterious or not in the soupe à l'oreille, it is difficult to say; but the ladies were afflicted all night with what physicians call tormina, and tenesmus, and intus-susceptio, and iliac passion, and borborygma in their epigastric and their hypochondriac regions; for all and several of which, the French doctor duly irrigated them with hot water and syrup of gum, threatening them with a cuirasse de sangsues if they were not better in the morning, as he said that they all laboured under an entero-epiplo-hydromphalo-gastrite: while poor Cannon, writhing under the effect of l'eau émétisée was denounced as being threatened with entero-epiplomphale, entero-merocèle, entero-sarcocèle, and entero-ischiocèle. Sick as they all were, they looked upon the native practitioner as a very learned man, and gladly gave thirty sous a head for so much information, when an impudent English quack would have asked them ten francs for merely telling them that they had what is vulgarly called the mulligrubs.

After an intolerable night, Morpheus was shedding his poppies over the exhausted travellers, when they were all roused by the most alarming cries; and Miss Lucy Cannon and Molly Cannon were dragged out of their beds by two French gentlemen, who had just jumped out of theirs, and, clasped in their arms, were forthwith carried out into the court-yard.

THE RELICS OF ST. PIUS.

SAINT PIUS was a holy man,

And held in detestation

The wicked course that others ran,
So lived upon starvation.

He thought the world so bad a place
That decent folks should fly it;
And, dreaming of a life of grace,
Determin'd straight to try it.
A cavern was his only house,
Of limited expansion,

And not a solitary mouse

Durst venture near his mansion.

He told his beads from morn to night,

Nor gave a thought to dinner;

And, while his faith absorb'd him quite,
He ev'ry day grew thinner.

Vain ev'ry hint by Nature given,

His saintship would not mind her;
At length his soul flew back to heaven,
And left her bones behind her.
Some centuries were gone and past,
And all forgot his story,

Until a sisterhood at last

Reviv'd his fame and glory.

To Rome was sent a handsome fee,
And pious letter fitted,
Requesting that his bones might be
Without delay transmitted.

The holy see with sacred zeal
Their relic hoards turn'd over,
The skeleton, from head to heel,
Of Pius to discover ;

And having sought with caution deep,
To pious tears affected,

They recognised the blessed heap
So anxiously expected.

And now the town, that would be made
Illustrious beyond measure,
Was all alive with gay parade

To welcome such a treasure.
The bishop, in his robes of state,
Each monk and priest attending,
Stood rev'rently within the gate
To view the train descending;
The holy train that far had gone
To meet the sacred relic,

And now with joyous hymns came on,
Most like a band angelic.

The nuns the splendid robes prepare,

Each chain, and flower, and feather;
And now they claim the surgeon's care
To join the bones together.

The head, the arms, the trunk, he found,
And placed in due rotation;

But, when the legs he reached, around
He stared in consternation!

In vain he twirl'd them both about,
Took one, and then took t'other,
For one turn'd in, and one turn'd out,
Still following his brother.

Two odd left legs alone he saw,

Two left legs! 'tis amazing!

"Two left legs!" cried the nuns, with awe
And anxious wonder gazing.

The wonder reach'd the list'ning crowd,
And all the cry repeated;

While some press'd on with laughter loud,
And some in fear retreated.

The bishop scarce a smile repress'd,

The pilgrims stood astounded;

The mob, with many a gibe and jest,

The holy bones surrounded.

The abbess and her vestal train,

The blest Annunciation,

With horror saw the threaten'd stain

On Pius' reputation.

"Cease, cease! ungrateful race!" cried she,

"This tumult and derision,

And know the truth has been to me

Revealed in a vision!

"The saint who now, enthron'd in heav'n,

Bestows on us such glory,

Had two left legs by Nature given,

And, lo! they are before ye!

"Then let us hope he will no more
His blessed prayers deny us,

While we, with zeal elate, adore
The left legs of St. Pius."
2 M 2

C. S. L.

DARBY THE SWIFT;

OR,

THE LONGEST WAY ROUND IS THE SHORTEST WAY HOME.

CHAPTER III.

"Tipsy dance and jollity."-L'Allegro.

A FULL hour after Darby's departure I ventured to open the little dog-eared volume which he had thrown upon my table. The titlepage was a curious specimen of that lingual learning which is so often to be met with in the remotest districts of Ireland. Gentle reader, a description of it would only spoil it; I therefore lay it before you as it appeared to me then, with this slight difference,—that the printer informs me he has no letter that can adequately express or imitate the rustic simplicity, the careless elegance both of the character and setting up. It was as follows:

THE DARBIAD!

A BACCHI-SALTANT EPIC. IN ONE BOOK.

AUCTORE CLAUDICANTE KELLIO.

Containing an Account of a Great Festival given at "The Three Blacks," by one Mr. Darby Ryan, on the occasion of his coming into his Fortune, and all the Songs an' Dances as perform'd there in honor to him.

Dulce est desipere in loco.

her mark

Printed by Mary Brady, x, at the sign of the Cross Quills in Monk's Lane, opposit the Friary. Price sixpence; and to be had of all Flyin' Stationers, and Dancin' Masthers.

I could not but admire the classical taste and ingenuity with which Mr. Kelly, the author, had Latinized his name. He had read, no doubt, that Ovid was called Naso from the excessive size of his nose; and, with a delicacy peculiar to himself, had elegantly concealed the vulgar cognomen of Lame Kelly, by which he was known,— in the more pompous-sounding Roman appellation of Claudicante! Kellio, too, was another "curiosa felicitas ;" for, while it was in perfect accordance with grammatical accuracy, it sounded like an ingenious anagram of O'Kelly, an ancient Irish name. But, to the poem itself.

INVOCATION.

INSPIRE me, Phoebus! in the song I sing,
And to my aid the nine twin-sisters bring;
No common deeds I celebrate or praise-
DARBY THE SWIFT is hero of my lays !

AFTER a hurling-match by Darby won,
Although his nose had suffered in the fun,
He, with his rivals, now no longer foes,
To the Three Blacks in peaceful triumph goes!
Two blacks already had he in the fray,
But whereabouts I won't presume to say:
'T would spoil the beauty of a hero's mien,
Though by the candles' glare they scarce were seen.

Many were met; of sisters, brothers, cousins,
Aunts, uncles, nieces, sweethearts, wives, some dozens.

First, Widow Higgins, with her daughters three,
Bedizen'd out as fine as fine could be,

Came on her low-back'd car, with feather-bed,
And ornamental quilt upon it spread.

She look'd a queen from the luxurious East

Reclining on an ottoman :-the beast

That drew her, chicks and all, drew seventy stone at least!

And he to horse was what to man is monkey,

In epics 't would be bathos, or I'd call him donkey.

But (who can read the secret book of Fate ?)
Just as the party pass'd the inn-yard gate,
A startled pig-a young and timorous thing
That in a puddle had been weltering-

Woke from some rapturous dream, and in its fright
Rush'd 'tween the nag's forelegs, who, woful sight!
Employ'd his hinder ones so wondrous well,
That Widow Higgins, bed, and daughters, fell
(Alas, my muse!) into the porker's bath!

Oh, day turn'd night! oh, pleasure sour'd to wrath!

But soon they did recover mirth, and jok'd,
For 'twas the feather-bed alone that soak'd
The stagnant pool:-no stain's impurity
Defil'd their rainbow-riband'd dimity,

Save one; and that was on the widow's crupper,
Who said, "I wish they'd scald that pig for supper!"

Next came Miss Duff, in a light pea-green plush,
That beautifully show'd her blue-red blush.

Miss Reeves soon follow'd, spite of summer weather,
In pelerine of goose-down, and a feather.

The two Miss Gallaghers, the four Miss Bradys,

With I know not how many other ladies.

Amongst them Nelly Jones, with her first child,

That squeak'd and squall'd; then, cock-a-doodle, smiled. Reader! I tell this for your private list'ning,

To have the clargy at his feast, a christ'ning

Our Darby thought would be a trick with art in
To nail the presence of big Father Martin,

Who was the bochel-bhui of jolly sinners,

At wakes or christ'nings, weddings, deaths, or dinners!
Suppose Jack Falstaff had ta'en holy orders,
And then I'll say your fancy somewhat borders
Upon the plumpy truth of this round priest,
Who ne'er refus'd his blessing to a feast.

One slender damsel, that seem'd not fifteen,
With younger brother, in the throng was seen;
Shy and confused, as when a violet,

Suddenly snatch'd from its dark-green retreat,