PETER SIMPLE;

OR, THE VICTIM OF EDITORIAL CRUELTY.

A PATHETIC BALLAD.

Look at that melancholy youth,

With pallid cheek and brow of care; Of him it may be said in truth,

"He sits in silent sorrow there."

His sad and mournful “ owre true tale,”
To list'ning ears I will unfold,
Nor marvel if the cheek grow pale,
While such a tale of woe is told.

Young Peter Simple wooed a maid—
But think not she was earthly fair;

No, he implored the pow'rful aid

Of Poetry's Muse beyond compare.
His nights of vigil-days of thought—
Were recompensed, tho' not too soon,
And when he inspiration caught,

He wrote "A Sonnet to the Moon."
"And now for fame and high renown,
My Sonnet it must published be,
That all my friends in this great town,
My name and poem in print may see.”

PETER SIMPLE.

Thus Peter hoped-but sad to tell-
When sent unto a magazine,
The ruthless Editor thought well

To doom his verse to "blush unseen."

Unconscious of this cause for grief,

A month to Peter seemed an age,
It passed. He quickly turned each leaf,
And eagerly he scanned each page.

"Not here! Not there!! Not anywhere!!!
Some grand mistake must surely be;
What's this?" he cried, midst doubt and fear,
"P.S.-Declined with thanks.'—Oh, me!"

This short, politely-killing line,
Brought Peter Simple very low,
And thought he does not loud repine,
His head's affected by the blow.

His friends around him come and try

To cheer him with their noisy pranks,

Still he repeats with mournful cry,

"Declined with thanks, declined with thanks!"

MORAL.

List, all young men from far and nigh,

Be modest in your several ranks,

For all vain hopes, when placed too high,

May chance to be-" Declined with thanks!"

CHARADE THE SECOND.

IN TWO SYLLABLES AND THREE ACTS.

Rustic and picturesque-coloured or black boddices or jackets trimmed with ribbons, white skirts, short enouga display rosettes upon the shoes; for Johnnie-a light jacket and gay waistcoat, wide-awake, or straw hat.

OVERTURE.-"Oh! dear! what can the matter be?”

Enter SUSETTA.

Sus. Not come home yet! how long he is. I am getting quite impatient-I cannot sit still any longer.

[Walks about singing,

Oh, dear! what can the matter be,
Oh, dear!! what can the matter be,
Oh, dear!!! what can the matter be,
Johnnie's so long at the fair.

He promised to buy me a bonnie blue ribbon
To tie up my bonnie brown hair.”

(Looks at herself.) I chosen pink; I think it

almost wish, though, that I had

would have been more becoming.

Never mind, I can have pink next time. I hope Johnnie will come soon, or we shall be late at our dance on the green to-night. (Looks out of window in a listening attitude.) I hear some one; it must be him-he shall not see me waiting. I'll hide. [Hides herself behind one of the window-curtains. Enter NANETTA.

Nan. I wish Johnnie would come, I have been watching for him this half hour. (Walks about singing the same as SUSETTA.) "Oh, dear! what can the matter be," &c., &c. (At the conclusion of her song, surveys her dress admiringly.) I was very undecided between blue and rose-colour; rosecolour would have looked more striking, but I think blue suits me best.

[A voice heard singing "Wait for the waggon," and the smacking of a whip heard outside.

Nan. (Joyfully.) Here he is! Now I'll hide, to punish him for being so long. (Hides behind the other window-curtain. Enter JOHNNIE, whip in hand.

John. Well, here I am, back at last,—rather behind time I expect, but there are many, I'm sure, who know how hard it is to tear themselves, away from the fair, the charming, charming fair. (Sings, with a whip accompaniment, Air, last part of "Oh, charming May," "Oh, charming fair," &c., &c., and concludes with a bow, intended for the lady part of the audience.) Now I'll look at the fairings I've bought. (Lays down the whip, and takes from his pocket, carefully folded in paper, a long piece of blue ribbon-holds it up and examines it. SUSETTA and NANETTA each peeping from behind her curtain.)