THE BALLADS OF POLICEMAN X.

THE WOLFE NEW BALLAD OF JANE RONEY AND

MARY BROWN.

AN igstrawnary tail I vill tell you this veek

I stood in the Court of A'Beckett the Beak,

Vere Mrs. Jane Roney, a vidow, I see,

Who charged Mary Brown with a robbin of she.

This Mary was pore and in misery once,

And she came to Mrs. Roney it's more than twelve monce,

She adn't got no bed, nor no dinner, nor no tea,

And kind Mrs. Roney gave Mary all three.

Mrs. Roney kep Mary for ever so many veeks,
(Her conduct disgusted the best of all Beax,)
She kep her for nothink, as kind as could be,
Never thinking that this Mary was a traitor to she.

"Mrs. Roney, O Mrs. Roney, I feel very ill;

Will you jest step to the Doctor's for to fetch me a pill? "That I will, my pore Mary," Mrs. Roney says she; And she goes off to the Doctor's as quickly as may be.

No sooner on this message Mrs. Roney was sped,
Than hup gits vicked Mary, and jumps out a bed;
She hopens all the trunks without never a key -
She bustes all the boxes, and vith them makes free.

Mrs. Roney's best linning gownds, petticoats, and close, Her children's little coats and things, her boots and her hose,

She packed them, and she stole 'em, and avay vith them did flee.

Mrs. Roney's situation

you may think vat it vould be!

Of Mary, ungrateful, who had served her this vay,

Mrs. Roney heard nothink for a long year and a day,

Till last Thursday, in Lambeth, ven whom should she see? But this Mary, as had acted so ungrateful to she.

L

She was leaning on the helbo of a worthy young man ;

They were going to be married, and were walkin hand in hand;

And the Church bells was a ringing for Mary and he,
And the parson was ready, and a waitin for his fee.

When up comes Mrs. Roney, and faces Mary Brown,
Who trembles, and castes her eyes upon the ground.
She calls a jolly pleaseman, it happens to be me;
I charge this young woman, Mr. Pleaseman, says she.

Mrs. Roney, o, Mrs. Roney, o, do let me go,

I acted most ungrateful I own, and I know,

But the marriage bell is a ringin, and the ring you may

see,

And this young man is a waitin, says Mary, says she.

I don't care three fardens for the parson and clark,

And the bell may keep ringin from noon day to dark. Mary Brown, Mary Brown, you must come along with me, And I think this young man is lucky to be free.

So, in spite of the tears which bejewed Mary's cheek,

I took that young gurl to A'Beckett the Beak;
That exlent justice demanded her plea —

But never a sullable said Mary said she.

On account of her conduck so base and so vile,
That wicked young gurl is committed for trile,
And if she's transpawted beyond the salt sea,
It's a proper reward for such willians as she.

Now, you young gurls of Southwark for Mary who

veep,

From pickin and stealin your ands you must keep, Or it may be my dooty, as it was Thursday veek, To pull you all hup to A'Beckett the Beak.

THE THREE CHRISTMAS WAITS.

My name is Pleaceman X;
Last night I was in bed,
A dream did me perplex,
Which came into my Edd.

I dreamed I sor three Waits
A playing of their tune,

At Pimlico Palace gates,

All underneath the moon.

One puffed a hold French horn,

And one and old Banjo,

And one chap, seedy and torn,
A Hirish pipe did blow.
They sadly piped and played,
Dexcribing of their fates;

And this was what they said,

Those three pore Christmas Waits:

"When this black year began,

This Eighteen-forty-eight,

I was a great, great man,

And king both vise and great,
And Munseer Guizot by me did show

As Minister of State.

"But Febuwerry came,

And brought a rabble rout,

And me and my good dame

And children did turn out,

And us, in spite of all our right,
Sent to the right about.

"I left my native ground,

I left my kin and kith,

I left my royal crownd,

Vich I couldn't travel vith,

And without a pound came to English ground, In the name of Mr. Smith.