"THIS IS TO GIVE NOTICE!-Whoever shall seize,
And such person or persons, to justice surrender,
Shall receive such REWARD-as his Highness shall please,
On conviction of him, the aforesaid offender.

"And, in order the matter more clearly to trace

To the bottom, his Highness, the Prince Bishop, further, Of his clemency, offers free PARDON and Grace

To all such as have not been concern'd in the murther.

"Done this day, at our palace,-July twenty-five,By command,

(Signed)

Johann Von Rüssell,

N.B.

Deceased rather in years-had a squint when alive;
And smells slightly of gin-linen marked with a G."

The Newspapers, too, made no little ado,

Though a different version each managed to dish up;
Some said "The Prince Bishop had run a man through,"
Others said "an assassin had kill'd the Prince Bishop."

The "Ghent Herald" fell foul of the "Bruxelles Gazette,"
The "Bruxelles Gazette," with much sneering ironical,
Scorn'd to remain in the "Ghent Herald's" debt,

And the "Amsterdam Times" quizz'd the "Nuremberg Chronicle."

In one thing, indeed, all the journals agreed,

Spite of "politics," "bias," or "party collision;"

Viz.: to "give," when they'd "further accounts" of the deed, "Full particulars" soon, in "a later Edition."

But now, while on all sides they rode and they ran,
Trying all sorts of means to discover the caitiffs,

Losing patience, the holy Gengulphus began

To think it high time to "astonish the natives."

First, a Rittmeister's Frau, who was weak in both eyes,
And supposed the most short-sighted woman in Holland,

Found greater relief, to her joy and surprise,

From one glimpse of his "squint" than from glasses by Dollond.

By the slightest approach to the tip of his Nose,

Meagrims, headache, and vapors were put to the rout;
And one single touch of his precious Great Toes
Was a certain specific for chillblains and gout.

Rheumatics, sciatica,-tic-douloureux!

Apply to his shin-bones—not one of them lingers ;— All bilious complaints in an instant withdrew,

If the patient was tickled with one of his fingers.

Much virtue was found to reside in his thumbs:

When applied to the chest, they cured scantness of breathing, Sea-sickness, and colic; or, rubb'd on the gums,

Were "A blessing to Mothers," for infants in teething.

Whoever saluted the nape of his neck,

Where the mark remain'd visible still of the knife, Notwithstanding east winds perspiration might check, Was safe from sore-throat for the rest of his life.

Thus, while each acute and each chronic complaint
Giving way, proved an influence clearly Divine,
They perceived the dead Gentleman must be a Saint,

So they lock'd him up, body and bones, in a shrine.

Through country and town his new Saintship's renown
As a first-rate physician kept daily increasing,
Till, as Alderman Curtis told Alderman Brown,

It seem'd as if "Wonders had never done ceasing."

The Three Kings of Cologne began, it was known,
A sad falling off in their offerings to find,
His feats were so many-still the greatest of any,-
In every sense of the word, was-behind.

For the German Police were beginning to cease
From exertions which each day more fruitless appear'd,
When Gengulphus himself, his fame still to increase,
Unravell'd the whole by the help of—his beard!

If you look back you'll see the aforesaid barbe gris,
When divorced from the chin of its murder'd proprietor,

Had been stuffed in the seat of a kind of settee,

Or double-arm'd chair, to keep the thing quieter.

It may seem rather strange, that it did not arrange
Itself in its place when the limbs join'd together;
Perhaps it could not get out, for the cushion was stout,
And constructed of good, strong, maroon-color'd leather

Or what is more likely, Gengulphus might choose,
For saints, e'en when dead, still retain their volition,
It should rest there, to aid some particular views,
Produced by his very peculiar position.

Be that as it may, on the very first day

That the widow Gengulphus sat down on that settee, What occur'd almost frightened her senses away,

Beside scaring her hand-maidens, Gertrude and Betty.

They were telling their mistress the wonderful deeds

Of the new Saint, to whom all the Town said their orisons: And especially how, as regards invalids,

His miraculous cures far outrival'd Von Morison's.

"The cripples," said they, "fling their crutches away,
And people born blind now can easily see us!"
But she (we presume, a disciple of Hume)

Shook her head, and said angrily, “Credat Judæus !'

"Those rascally liars, the Monks and the Friars,

To bring grist to their mill, these devices have hit on. He works miracles !-pooh!-I'd believe it of you

Just as soon, you great Geese, or the Chair that I sit on!"

The Chair-at that word-it seems really absurd,

But the truth must be told,-what contortions and grins Distorted her face!-She sprang up from her place

Just as though she'd been sitting on needles and pins!

For, as if the Saint's beard the rash challenge had heard
Which she utter'd, of what was beneath her forgetful,
Each particular hair stood on end in the chair,

Like a porcupine's quills when the animal's fretful.

That stout maroon leather, they pierced altogether,

Like tenter-hooks holding when clench'd from within, And the maids cried-" Good gracious! how very tenacious !" -They as well might endeavor to pull off her skin !—

She shriek'd with the pain, but all efforts were vain;
In vain did they strain every sinew and muscle,—
The cushion stuck fast!-From that hour to her last
She could never get rid of that comfortless "Bustle"!

And e'en as Macbeth, when devising the death

Of his King, heard "the very stones prate of his whereabouts;" So this shocking bad wife heard a voice all her life

Crying "Murder!" resound from the cushion,—or thereabouts.

With regard to the Clerk, we are left in the dark
As to what his fate was; but I can not imagine he
Got off scot-free, though unnoticed it be

Both by Ribadaneira and Jacques de Voragine:

For cut-throats, we 're sure, can be never secure,
And "History's Muse" still to prove it her pen holds,
As
you 'll see, if you'll look in a rather scarce book,
"God's Revenge against Murder," by one Mr. Reynolds.

MORAL.

Now, you grave married Pilgrims, who wander away,
Like Ulysses of old (vide Homer and Naso),

Don't lengthen your stay to three years and a day,
And when you are coming home, just write and say so!

And
you, learned Clerks, who 're not given to roam,
Stick close to your books, nor lose sight of decorum,
Don't visit a house when the master's from home!
Shun drinking,—and study the "Vitæ Sanctorum!"

Above all, you gay ladies, who fancy neglect
In your spouses, allow not your patience to fail;
But remember Gengulphus's wife !—and reflect
On the moral enforced by her terrible tale!

7

SIR RUPERT THE FEARLESS.

A LEGEND OF GERMANY.

R. HARRIS BARHAM.

SIR RUPERT the Fearless, a gallant young knight,
Was equally ready to tipple or fight,

Crack a crown, or a bottle,

Cut sirloin, or throttle;

In brief, or as Hume says, "to sum up the tottle,”
Unstain'd by dishonor, unsullied by fear,

All his neighbors pronounced him a preux chevalier.

Despite these perfections, corporeal and mental,
He had one slight defect, viz., a rather lean rental;
Besides, 'tis own'd there are spots in the sun,
So it must be confess'd that Sir Rupert had one;
Being rather unthinking,

He'd scarce sleep a wink in

A night, but addict himself sadly to drinking;
And what moralists say,

Is as naughty-to play,

To Rouge et Noir, Hazard, Short Whist, Ecarté;
Till these, and a few less defensible fancies
Brought the Knight to the end of his slender finances.

When at length through his boozing,

And tenants refusing

Their rents, swearing "times were so bad they were losing," His steward said, “O, sir,

It's some time ago, sir,

Since aught through my hands reach'd the baker or grocer,

And the tradesmen in general are grown great complainers."

Sir Rupert the brave thus address'd his retainers:

"My friends, since the stock

Of my father's old hock

Is out, with the Kürchwasser, Barsac, Moselle,
And we 're fairly reduced to the pump and the well,
I presume to suggest,

We shall all find it best

For each to shake hands with his friends ere he goes,
Mount his horse, if he has one, and-follow his nose;