traet of a letter from Liverpool to 13th July, or ea That Cotton was worthless, but now there's some stir, And the market this week is penny higher, We move here like lightning, in fits, starts, and fishes, You know what I mea, 'tis a joke somewhat stale, Dar produce go up, from the Thames to th Dee In praising the man they have just blown "sky high." In this way, I fear there'll be some ne subor ed To swear, if not drunk, Johnny Bull has been Corned The bacon-fed landlores when produce is up, Will double their rents, and put pearls in each cup; But w en quarter-day comes, and our inter st is higher, They'll find that their Bacon is " fat in the fre." But why need I tell you, who know Mr. Canning, Though Wellington fights well, can beat him in planning. I say. why should I undertake to relate The tri ks of a trade, or the Premier of state; From Machiavel's time down to those of Lord Grey, "EXCLUSIVELY" THINE. |