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In my prophetic nose it stinks
With all abominable drinks.

You swore your guzzling ways to stop,

And if you ever touched a drop

Of anything that smelt of rum,

May some one fetch you-well, I'm come.”
Forth then the bottle goblin drew
A huge blood-thirsty looking screw.
Objecting to be this way screwed
The skipper cut, the foe pursued--
The former felt the cork-screw point
Just now and then in every joint:
Declared he ran at least a league,
Till, tumbling down from dire fatigue,
He closed his eyes in terror deep
Of getting screwed, and went to sleep.
And there at morn his comrades found
Him sleeping stertorously sound;,
So loth the slumber to forsake him,
They'd used a marlinspike to wake him.

The skipper's subsequent career
Does most calamitous appear,
But all his troubles he assigns
To grog and forty-shilling fines.

Now, ever since, go where you will,
The bottle goblin haunts you still;
In town or bush, in public road,
Or round the shepherds' far abode;
It meets the eye iu Hobson's Bay,
It lurks upon the diggers' way;
At every turn your footsteps trace
A bottle stares you in the face-
Ubiquitously seems to stand
The evil genius of the land.-
May every man whose soul inherita
Just horror of all evil spirits,

Drive this from our adopted shore,
Far exorcised for ever more.

PUNCH'S VISITS TO REMARKABLE PLACES,

VESUVIUS,

It is well known that a great part of the continent of Australia is of volcanic origin, and the craters of many extinct volcanoes are familiar to the traveller. But singularly enough it is only recently that the attention of savans and others has been called to the existence of a volcano, not many miles from Melbourne, which already shows symptoms of an impending eruption. This mountain has been named after Mount Vesuvius. to which it is supposed by some to bear a faint resemblance both as to form and situation. The sides of the volcano are extremely rugged and precipitous, and unlike most mountains, descend in one unbroken slope from the top to the bottom. The huge boulders which seem to comprise its entire substance are piled upon one another with such regularity that it is difficult for the spectator to persuade himself that they are the work of nature, and not of man's hand.

As neither experience nor native tradition has hitherto recorded any eruption in this neighbourhood, it is not surprising that a settlement should have been formed at the foot of Vesuvius, which slopes down to a magnificent lake of many thousand gallons in extent. A township, which (with that reprehensible fondness for naming places in Australia after others in Europe, which they little resemble), has been called Naples, has here sprung up with marvellous rapidity, and indeed, in this respect, surpasses any other city either in Australia or America. Nor are we acquainted with any other place in this country where so much attentio has been paid to the important consideration of giving the edifices and streets an ornamental and picturesque 'character, the beauties of many styles, countries, and ages, being admirably combined. The rapidity and completeness with which this city has been designed and erected induce us to recommend Mr. Knight, the president of the Society of Architects, to pay a visit to Naples, in order to perfect his

celebrated and excellent scheme for appointing a commission to pull Melbourne down, and build it up again upon improved principles.

Although the indifference of dwellers in volcanic regions to the peculiar dangers by which they are surrounded is proverbial, Mr. Punch was certainly startled at the extent to which that indifference was carried by the inhabitants of Naples, on the occasion of his visit to that very remarkable place. Changes of colour had recently taken place on the surface of many parts of the mountain, indicating probably the action of great internal heat, yet no signs of any intention to quit the scene of the impending catastrophe were apparent. Curious rumbling noises, resembling the drawing of ropes through blocks, accompanied by sharp, crackling reports, like the sound produced by carpenters, when hammering upon spike nails, and, coming apparently from the very heart of the volcano, were alike unavailing to stir the alarm of the Neapolitans- insomuch that building operations were being conducted with as much activity as ever, a new quay of magnificent dimensions was in course of construction, and several large publio buildings were already contracted for. Yet it is said by those well qualified to judge, that before ten days are over, the sullen mountain must inevitably burst forth into flame, and the hot lava, which is already visible to an observant eye, through strange zig-zag fissures in the side of the mountain, will come rolling down it's precipitous slopes upon the doomed but apathetic city.

That indefatigable caterer for public amusement Mr. Geo. Coppin -has, we understand, prepared to turn even this awful. impending convulsion of nature to account, and has made arrangements for running excursion steam-boats from Melbourne to Naples, during the period of eruption. Although we certainly cannot approve of the spirit which enables a man calmly to calculate the chances of making a profit out of a frightful public calamity, nor that which will carry people to witness the wholesale destruction of life and property, as though it were a mere spectacle, yet we doubt not the scene presented by the volcano in full eruption will be magnificent in the extreme; and we cannot withhold our tribute of admiration from the energy Mr. Coppin has shown in the conduct of his strange speculation; albeit there is something almost demonaical in its callous heartlessness.

THE PIPE THAT ONCE THROUGHOUT MY ROOM.

(BY "A BRUTE.")

The pipe that once throughout my room,
It's soul of fragrance shed,

No longer pours it's rich perfume
Around my married head.
Thus pass the joys of single life;
Thus freedom's dream is o'er ;

I shouldn't dare to face my wife
If I stopped out till four.

No more from jolly fellows' throats
The choral voices rise;

I cannot say Jemima's notes
Such melody supplies.
Few friends now gather on my floor;
Last week I only saw

One whom I do not quite adore-
I mean my mother-in-law.

APPROPRIATE QUOTATION.-When Mr. Chapman heard of his defeat for West Bourke he was at first speechless with emotion; but, when his sorrows found a voice, it poured them forth in two lines from Locksly Hall

Is it well to wish thee happy, having known me to decline,

To a lower range of PHELANS, and a narrower heart than mine."

VERY PROPER SUGGESTION.-We understand that a memorial has been prepared, for presentation to his Excellency the Acting Governor, praying, that in consequence of the terrible scourge with which this country has been afflicted by the re-election of Mr. P. O'Brien, an early day should be set apart for national fast and humiliation.

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THE CHAIRMAN'S SONG. [The following song of triumph was, we are informed, chaunted by Dr. Murphy's coachman, while driving along the road to Brunswick, on the evening of the the 16th instant. The song was only interrupted when coach and horses and chairman and all finally went down together in the mud.]

Hail to the chairman-with speed he advances-
Honoured and blessed be the Central Road Board;
Long may he freely expend our finances;
Soon may he meet with a proper reward.
Oh, that this precious load,
Over this precious road,

Safely this evening may come and may go.
Then shall the stumps and stones
Echo our gladsome tones-

Dr. F. Murphy, the Chairman, oh! ho!

These are no puddles just left by a shower,
Wet in the morning but dried up at noon;

Too deep are they sunken to yield to his power,

When the sun shrinks the creek and dries up the lagoon.
Scooped out by horses' heels-
Ploughed up by waggon wheels;

Deep are the chasms, but onward we go.
College and Glue Pot then

Echo his praise again

Dr.JF. Murphy, the Chairman, oh! ho!

Proudly our chairman has baffled the coaches

The horses of Cobb have been checked by the flood;
From Gisborne to Woodend the poor digger "stoaches"
Half up to his waist in the slush and the mud.

Driver of bullock dray

Long shall lament his sway;

Think of our Chairman with fear and with woe. Beechworth and Castlemaine,

Groan when they hear again

Dr. F. Murphy, our Chairman, oh! ho!

GEORGE ROBINS REDIVIVUS.

Our theory on the subject of Australian Doubles has received another confirmation, from the advertising columns of the morning papers. The late Mr. George Robins, of florid memory, has a living double, a faithful ditto, an alter ego, a counterpart and simulacrum in the colony of Victoria. The Melbourne double of the first prose-poet of Covent Garden revels in the employment of the choicest phraseology, to describe the earthly Paradises which are doomed to pass beneath his hammer. He prefaces his advertisements with a sentimental reflection, from the writings of the didactic Cowper, and concludes them by an "impromptu' " from "a friend."

He (the Australian George Robins) has a "delightful cottage residence to dispose of, only five minutes' ride by railway from Melbourne." Now, we observe the studied vagueness of the allusion to the locality. No one railway is specially indicated. It may be on the Melbourne and Northcote Grand Junction Line; or on the Metropolitan and Brunswick Atmospheric; or on the Direct Eastern and Boroondara Line; or it may be at Emerald Hill, Sandridge, or St. Kilda. The premeditated obscurity of the allusion, however, is intended to act as a gentle stimulant to the reader's curiosity, for the writer eventually becomes more explicit.

Here is a touch of his descriptive quality :-

"The principal portion of the property now offered consists of a most neat and substantial cottage, standing in the centre of its own grounds, and contains four convenient sized rooms, with lobby; a verandah five feet in width nearly surrounds the cottage, upon which the vine and numerous creepers twine in graceful luxuriance, while a parterre of beautiful flowers fill up the foreground, a detached kitchen, servants' bedroom, and scullery complete the domestic offices, fowl-house and aviary, with sufficient unoccupied land on which to erect a coach house and stable."

There's a commodious cottage ornee for you, with four rooms, a verandah, and numerous creepers; to say nothing of "a parterre of beautiful flowers," which fill (fills, he should have snid; but great writers occasionally trip in their grammar,) which fills up the foreground, a detached kitchen, servants' bed room and scullery." We should like to see that parterre. It must be quite a remarkable flower bed in its way, expansive and elastic, and not above putting forth its blossoms in a servants' bed-room or a scullery

"The back windows of the cottage command extensive views of the bush, and the plume-boarded beach lying between St. Kilda and Brighton, while that bold promontory the Red Bluff, Pic-nic Point, with Mount Eliza in the distance, charm the scene,' ""

"Plume-boarded !" We have heard carpenters speak of feather edges in reference to planks, but "plume-boarded" is a phrase that exhibits a sublime originality of conception, and a daring novelty of combination. Pic-Nic Point and Mount Eliza "charm the scene." Very kind of them certainly. Scenes sometimes charm the spectators, and it is only right that scenes should be sometimes charmed themselves.

"The Bay and the harbour of Port Phillip, bearing on their waters the stately ships of many climes, bringing the world's merchandise to this El Dorado of ours, give new and charming features to the scene. The arrangements of this "Gem of Emerald" are so complete that it must be the fault of the occupier if comfort, peace, and happiness in their widest sense do not reign throughout this establish ment: in fact, this desirable property must be seen to be duly appreciated."

Until this advertisement was penned, or, in other words, until this lovely cottage was for sale, no "stately ships (observe the alliteration) of many climes" had entered the harbor of Port Phillip, with "the world's merchandise;" and therefore the expression "new and charming" is strictly and literally correct in its application to those "features of the scene." The "Gem of Emerald," again, is a strikingly novel and beautiful epithet to apply to a four-roomed cottage, and denotes that the inventive faculties of the writer's mind are almost boundless.

Punch, seeking for "comfort, peace, and happiness," was so struck by the tenor of this advertisement, that he exclaimed immediately upon reading it

"And oh! if there be an Elysium on earth,
It is this! it is this !"

He rushed off to inspect "this desirable property," and found a concourse of would-be tenants frantically bidding over each other's heads for the privilege of occupying it. He has since learned that it has been secured as a sea-side residence-a sort of pavilion, at Brighton-for the use of Sir Henry Barkly and his suite.

92

[OCT. 23, 1856.

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MURPHY ON THE ROADS.

(NOT)

BY THE AUTHOR OF LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER.

A Doctor to the ball-room bound,
Cried "Coachman, do not tarry,
And I'll give thee a silver crown,
When we have reached the Merri."]

Now who art thou wouldst dare to-night
This dark and dreary by-way?
"O, I'm the Chairman of the Board
That makes and mends each highway.

"Behind us come a hundred guests,
In dog-carts, cabs, and coaches;
O, do not let them find me here,
A mark for their reproaches;

"Stuck fast within a muddy slough,
Should they our coach discover,
With scornful taunts, my Board and mo
Those cruel men would cover."

Out spoke the hardy coachman bold,
"The way is dark as Hades,
But yet I'll dare the dreadful road,
For those dear, winsome ladies.

"Ah yes! my word! those gentle dames
In danger shall not tarry,

For though the mud be fathoms deep,
I'll onward to the Merri,"

By this the road grew worse apace,
The straining springs were creaking;
In fear of being bogged, each face
Grew pale as they were speaking.

But still, as roll'd the groaning coach,
And as the way grew drearer,
Adown the lane rode mounted guests,
Their trampling sounded nearer.

"Oh haste thee, haste !" the Doctor eries,
"Though crab-holes round us gather;
Than meet these scoffing men, plunge on,
At any risk I'd rather."

The coach had left the metall'd road,
A fearful pass before it,
When, oh! too great the strain became,
And snapp'd the springs that bore it.
Yet still his wish to dance at Moore's
O'er fear of wreck prevailing.
Poor Murphy for a moment swore,
Then chang'd his wrath to wailing.

For, sore dismay'd, a yawning gulf
Of mud he did discover,

Which none but reckless madmen would
E'er venture to cross over.

"Turn back! Turn back! he cried in grief,
"Regain the metall'd highway;

My bones are rack'd-my sinews crack'd,
This by-way-oh !-this by way!"

No Murphies danced that night at Moore's
Those awful roads preventing,
But with his fair companions he,
Return'd to town lamenting.

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