With him to have a single "hitch,"
But let us first consider which.

For Wrestling's a precarious game;
Our daily trials prove the same.
We often see, that to his sorrow,

The chief to day is thrown to-morrow.

PENZANCE WRESTLING.

BAD news is come again! the truth advises,
The Western Men have carr'd off all the prizes.
What! after all our struggling and fatigue,

There's not a single prize brought home to Breage!
Let's sit content!--Shall we regret it? No!
Let's rather think it well it should be so.
Our best concerted schemes are oft defeated,

To hinder us from being too conceited.

TEMPTED with hopes of shining ore,
The mining regions to explore,

Some gentlemen within Cornubia great,
Subscrib'd a thousand pounds to speculate.

A legal license soon was granted,

With leave to search for what they wanted;

And soon a Captain was procur'd

Long to such drudg'ry enur'd,

And some amongst the folks will tell,

He knew his duty pretty well.

A PETITION.

Captain T. Carter,

SIR,

Pray lend an ear to my Petition,
And sympathize with my condition!
I'm sure 'tis full three months ago,
(And Doctor Hosking knows it too,)
Your tradesmen promis'd to complete
A little place to save my meat;—
For, tho' I fain would keep it nice,
'Tis always pilfer'd with the mice.

Now, in the midst of all my slav'ry,

To have a bit of something sav'ry,

I'd got about a pound of bacon:

(I'm sure I can't be much mistaken) I left it hanging at a nail;

Thinking that place could never fail

Yet, though securely bound about,
The little robbers found it out,

And on the paper left their traces,

And bor'd quite through in several places.

Harry Tregear and James Cantane, To be so serv'd, they would complain; Though all must candidly confess,

Seen in their regimental dress,

When we examine all their features,

They scarce appear like human creatures.
I think it right to appeal to you:
For, in this case, what could I do?
I have no other way to save it,
Except I eat it as I have it.-
Now, as you are a Christian man,

Do see me righted, if you can.

M

A PETITION FOR WAGES.

To

I hope, by observing my present condition,
You'll pay some respect to my humble petition.

My request is quite open, not "under the rose!”
I have tried it, and tried it, so often in prose,
No more in that manner my case I'll rehearse;
For I now am determin'd to try it in verse.

My business will not take much time to explain;
'Tis about my back wages—you know what I mean.
Then don't pay me off with a why and a how:

For the money I earn'd by the sweat of my brow,
In climbing your ladders by night and by day,
All caudled in slime, and so wet as the sea,
And crawling through many a troublesome hole
Scarce open enough for my body and soul.

Past service, I know is too often forgotten,

But don't put me off till I'm shrouded in cotton.

I own to affront you I'm rather afraid,

And, perhaps, you will tell me, I might have been paid.

But I cannot afford it, and never was willing,
Instead of a pound to take seventeen shilling..

Yet I must be content, if I can have no more,

Though your agent had wronged me of twenty before. Consider my case, and then treat it with pity,

Or else I shall lay it before your committee.

I hope you'll comply without further delay,

And your humble petitioner ever will pray, &c.

LODGING.

LAST night I took it in my head
Within these walls to make my bed,

(The night I shall remember,)

Yet slept so well as those in town

Who stretch themselves on beds of down.

Tho' mine was made of timber.

For what avails their shining gear;

I was content with homely fare,

Quite destitute of beauty,