And you need not be told

There's more glitter than gold!

But if, as a goddess,

With wings to her boddice,

A prop with her hand on,

And one leg to stand on,

A little board slides on,
And CERITO glides on
With her toe to the ceiling,
Just think of her feeling
(From such things preserve us,
As we're rather nervous!)

Of horror and terror,
If, by some fatal error,
When ready to start
For her fairy-like part,
The super, whose duty
Is to drag on the beauty,
Should chance to forget her,
Or, far worse, upset her!-
But see, they've began-
What a wonderful man!-

Just mark, when he strains

His neck, how he cranes,

As one that would make its glass rival despair!

After forming a point

That no foot with a joint

Could ever achieve,

And no mortal believe,

Unless their own eyes

Beheld the surprise,

With a bound half as high

As the blue and dust sky

(Which proves, if she liked, the lady could fly!),

The danseuse will be

PERROT'S vis-à-vis ;

Then a chassez and twirl,

And all-round-the-stage-whirl,

At the top will discover

The pas-de-deux lover;

His hand neatly placed

Round dear CERITO's waist,
And so perfect their pose
On the tips of their toes,
That this "balance of power"
They can keep by the hour.
Now trumpets and drumming
Announce some one coming,
Which seems a sad blow

To poor MONSIEUR PERROT,
And equally so

To MA'AMSELLE CERITO,

For they instantly part

With a hand on each heart,

And a look that might say—
"We wish quarter-day,

When we'd no means to pay,

Had happened to come
Instead of that drum

And its consequent hints

We shall soon see the prince."

And such is the case;

For a very red face

And a very black wig,

And gloves very big,

And a cap and a feather,
Then come on together:

All which prove that the gent

Who wears them's the re-gent.

He having well frowned

On the supers around,

In his great power's latitude,

Strikes, as may be seen, a magnificent attitude :

His highness ne'er talks

Nor dances, but stalks,

And all about walks,

Like a great pedometer,
Or vile busy Peter,
Whose only delight

Is to vent his base spite,
And insist upon carrying
Off, and perhaps marrying,
The very young woman

Who swears- on earth no man,

Though she's far from ungrateful,

Can be half so hateful."

He then threatens force,

As a matter of course,

Swears homeward he 'll drag her, Claps his hand to his dagger With an air of delirium

And horrid distraction,But the reader must know This is all done by action,Then the guards are marched on In a line one by one,

With cross-belts and pouches,

And various cartouches;

And the order is given

To send up to heaven
The audacious varlet,

In white silk and scarlet,
Who has dared to ensnare
The love of the fair,

Who seems to consider,
Although highest bidder
And famed gay deluder,
The prince an intruder.
And just as the monster
Declares that, at one stir
Of his wicked forefinger,
Should a single hand linger,
Nor let off slap-bang
His piece, he shall hang-

His father or mother,

Or some one or other,
Rush on and declare

"If his highness but dare
Lay a hand on the pair,
He had better beware;
For they very well know
That his title's no go,
As he happens to be

The youngest of three

Then, reader, directly,

If all's done correctly,

Commence the bright showers

And MA'AMSELLE CERITO,

Till, for love, they near smother

The one and the other,

Of bouquets and flowers,

Which titled folks throw At MONSIEUR PERROT

And would do so, no doubt,

But the curtain's rung down, And the pair are dug out!

Is a practical illustration of man's ingenuity to turn things upside down, and while he laughs at its wonderful effects, he is constrained to acknowledge the centre of gravity! A person making a revolution is like a man on the brink of bankruptcy, who rushes down the inclined plane at the rate of one hundred miles an hour, fancying that "things must take a turn," he knows not how, to set him on his legs again; while experience only demonstrates, that he has taken a somerset which leaves him precisely where he was, so far as advantage is concerned (only that he might have made a smash), and that he has reached the end of the movement without bettering his condition. He has " gone on" longer, it is true, but then he is nearer

stopping than when he started. The fortune-hunter, who marries age and ugliness for money, takes his seat in the centrifugal railway of matrimony, only that he encounters the plain without the proper inclination.

The spendthrift is ever travelling by a centrifugal railway, the impetus of which causes him to run up" so much more than he intended, and at so quick a rate, that he unconsciously acquires the habits of "a fast goer," and nothing stays his progress until he quietly settles down in her gracious Majesty's Fleet!

Verily, there are more centrifugal railways in the moral than in the material world!