ENOX LIBRARI

NEW YORK

FRINTED AT THE WINDSOR PRESS, BY C. KNIGHT,

THE ETONIAN.

No. VI..

THE KING OF CLUBS.

SCENE THE CLUB-ROOM.

(The President prologuizes from the Chair.)

I LOVE variety; no book

From me obtains a second look,

In which I vainly seek to find
This salt, this pepper of the mind:
And ought that savours of precision,
Of sameness, or of repetition,
With more than Editorial hate
I scorn, detest, abominate.
Ergo, whereas the Reader knows
That Volume I. began in prose;
I think I'll change my note this time-
And-Volume II. begins in rhyme.
My friends, I vote him prosy quite,

Who speaks one word of prose to-night.

(Members testify astonishment. O'Connor opens his mouth wide-Musgrave shuts his close-Lozell nods with assent-Burton with drowsinessOakley takes out his tablets, and appears to be working hard.)

MONTGOMERY. "I love to hear a clever rhymer rhyming

GOLIGHTLY.

VOL. II.

In learned measure, eloquent and strong! " "I love to hear a faulty timer timing

His horrid cadence, dissonant and wrong!"

B

GOLIGHTLY.

STERLING.

MONTGOMERY. "Good poetry's the noblest thing on earth!
"Bad is a strong provocative to mirth;
And, when a fool is sentimentalizing,”
"Order! the worthy President is rising.”
COURTENAY. My friends! I need not dwell upon
The vast success of Volume I.;
Suffice it, that its tout ensemble
Has made our worst revilers tremble;
That Censure owns at last she's wrong,
And Scandal almost holds her tongue.
Howbeit, 'midst our wreath of bays,
There sprout some

O'CONNOR,

CHORUS.
O'CONNOR.

BRAMBLES OF DISPRAISE;

Which, when the precious leaves we snatch,
Inflict a most delightful scratch;

Too soft to make us cry about it—

And-we might go to sleep without it.
Here is a Senex,' cold and grave,

Quite puzzled by the Knight and Knave;'
And thinking that it's all ' a flam'
About our Publisher and Pam.

Then here's a little note from 'Jessy,'
Who can't abide that Sober Essay!
'A Fourth-form' thinks 'tis best by far
To stick to the vernacular;

Our Muse goes limping on a patten,
Whene'er she's running after Latin.
'Amicus' is in monstrous pique

SWINBURNE.

Μηνιν αειδε

OAKLEY.

NESBIT.

CHORUS.

"I differ."

"Some beer."

"Silence! hark to the Chairman! "—(Hear !)' My head feels a sort of a dizziness,

COURTENAY. "

I've written and spoke till it aches;
So before we proceed to our business,-
We'll finish this dish of

BEEF-STEAKS.

* Silence! Hark to the signal !-fire."-BYRON.

*

ROWLEY,

"I love a steak!-proudly it sweeps along;
Whether the kitchen broileth it or frieth,
And punsters tell that oftentimes it crieth,
'Chaucer, oh! Chaucer!'-He was Lord of song
In Britain! Wrapt in doublet and in rhyme,
He walk'd the dear Metropolis, and tasted
Of meats multigenous, bak'd, broil'd, and basted;
The pride of Taverns in that ancient time.
I wish that I could rhyme like him of old,
I wish that I could eat the food he eat;-

BELLAMY.

66

But stop, Thalia, for you want a whet;
The reader's tir’d—the steaks are getting cold!
Stop! for my own, and for the reader's, sake;
But oh! I'm very partial to a steak!

Perhaps you
think you've made a Sonnet.
I'm sorry for you!-out upon it!
You havn't got a rhyming phiz,
And don't know what a Sonnet is,
You ought to talk of May or June,
Mary, and Music, and the Moon,
Just mention Zephyrs in the dell,
And give a hint of Philomel,
Enlarge upon a blighted tree,
A rock, a ruin, or the sea,
Conclude with something energetic,
Or a neat touch of the pathetic.
This is the way, mistaken elf!
To write-like Gerard-or myself!

GOLIGHTLY. "Oh! Charles!-who said you were a dunce?

I heard you read a sonnet once,

And really I was so enchanted,

With all you said, and all you chaunted,

That home I hurried in delight,

And sat me down in haste to write

A little thing the Club shall see→

SONNET TO MR. BELLAMY.

"Oh! I am weary of thy minstrelsy;

Thou claw'st the chords with such a clumsy gripe,
And (straining still thy throat's discordant pipe)
Fumblest, and fumblest on so dismally;

Evermore drawling a dull sleepy air,

Like that the old Cow died of. Cruel Bard!

What have I done, that thou would'st have me share
poor Cow's fate? "Twere not a task too hard

That

(So I might 'scape the torture of thy lay) To read the Post or Courier day by day, To my deaf grandam. Oh! I could endure, Methinks, of harsh and grating sounds to die, So but thy song were spared, and I were sure, Bellamy, thou would'st not chaunt my elegy." CHORUS. "Bravo! the Sonnet of Sonnets !-oh never Talk now of your Orpheus and Linus ! ” "I vow and declare that it's almost as clever As mine on the Pons Asininus!" "Bravo-Golightly's the poet to please :" "May I never drink beer if he's not!" CHORUS. "Loaded and prim'd with such verses as these,

BURTON.

CHORUS.

NESBIT.

Number VI. will go off like a shot!"

BELLAMY. "Libel and felony !"
GOLIGHTLY.

"Zounds! Mr. Bellamy!'

BELLAMY. "How can I sit with this base charlatan ?”
GOLIGHTLY. "Lord! I'm afraid that his sisters he'll tell o' me!"
BELLAMY. "Mr. Golightly shall find I'm a man!”

O'CONNOR. "Murder and turf!”

BELLAMY.

"How I'll cut and assassinate !

Mr. Golightly shall smart for it soon!"

O'CONNOR. "Nate Mr. Bellamy, don't be so passionate!"
"Ignorant blockhead! I'll write a Lampoon!"

BELLAMY.

(Exit in a passion !—All the Members much appalled.)

COURTENAY. "My friends! your spirits seem indeed

GOLIGTHLY.
COURTENAY.

In most unusual excitation;

To cool them, I'll proceed to read

ARTICLES IN PREPARATION.

Two bits of prose from F. Golightly;
One On the Art of Dancing Lightly;'
One On the Sense of Homer's Particles '-"
"Two very neat and clever articles !"
"Reflections upon Human Troubles;'
'A Dissertation upon Bubbles ;'
'Remarks upon the Fight of Ramillies ;'
"The Art of Cookery for Families ;'
'Biography of Mr. Wastle;'

And Stanzas on Caernarvon Castle;'
'A Country Sabbath,' neatly penn'd
By Bellamy, our departed friend;