174 Walks i?i Ireland. [FEB. 



brow darkened, and his eyes glared wolfishly at the poor priest 

 " Sancte Johanne ora pro me Beati Apostoli, orate pro me" " Give me 

 work/' shouted the evil one, his form dilating as his human disguise 

 gave way before his fiendish rage " Give me work, I want no prayers, 

 you promised me work keep your word or look to yourself." Just at 

 that instant a saving thought flashed across the mind of the terrified old 

 man : he remembered the well known crux, which at various times has 

 posed the most intelligent and dextrous devils in Pandemonium ; and 

 with a long-drawn gasp, like that of one who had just been snatched 

 from the devouring sea, " You want work," said he, " do you ? be off 

 with yourself, then, to the Bull of Clontarf* the blessed saints be 

 praised that put it into my head and make me a three-plie cable of the 

 sand of the sea. And hark ye," said he, his spirits rising at the blank 

 disappointed look of his enemy, " you needn't be in such a hurry with 

 this job, the day's long, and the wages are small." The baffled demon 

 vanished with a howl. 



And now farewell to Lucan, with its long-drawn vistas of solemn 

 woods, its mazy river, and atrabilious-looking water drinkers ; cross as 

 they seemed, many a pleasant day I have passed among them in merry 

 childhood, wondering all the while how they could look so sad and yel- 

 low, while the swift river sparkled, and the sweet birds sang, and the 

 trees blossomed around them ; but I have eaten of the fruit of know- 

 ledge of good and evil since those times, and I wonder no more. 



J. R. O. 



LONDON ANOMALIES. 

 BY HUDIBBAS, JUNIOR. 



OH ! London's a comical place, 



In which comical people do dwell ; 

 Where comical streets you may trace, 



And comical things the folks sell : 

 And what is more comical still, 



Although it seems nearly a fiction, 

 Each street with its name chimes so ill, 



That the whole is a plump contradiction. 



First Cheapside is known to be dear ; 



Wood-street is all stones, bricks, and mortar; 

 In Mil/c-street the people drink beer ; 



In jBeer-lane they've nothing but water; 

 In the Poultry no fowls you will see, 



You need not go there for conviction ; 

 In Love-lane the folks disagree; 



Thus the whole is a plump contradiction. 



On Saffron-hill every thing's brown ; 



In Cow-cross you seldom see cattle; 

 In Water-lane no one can drown; 



In Angel-court, Lord, what a prattle ! 

 In Honey-lane there's not a bee, 



Although Drones there may meet no restriction; 

 In Orchard-street grows riot a tree; 



Thus the whole is a plump contradiction ! 



* A sand bank in Dublin Bay. 



