Oh! the artful Tories _dear_,
Oh! the _dear_ and artful Tories;
They alone perceive, 'tis clear,
Taxes tend to England's glories.
The Whigs became the poor man's foe,
Mix'd ashes in his cup of sorrow;
Nor thought the pauper's "lot of woe,"
Perchance might be their own to-morrow.
The Tories said they were his friend,
That they abhorr'd procrastination;
So give--till next July shall end--
Exchequer bills and ventilation.
Oh! the artful Tories _dear_,
Oh! the _dear_ and artful Tories;
They alone perceive, 'tis clear,
Taxes tend to England's glories.
* * * * *
RECREATION FOR THE PUBLIC.
Sir Robert Peel seems impressed with the necessity of providing the
citizens of London with additional parks, where they may recreate
themselves, and breathe the free air of heaven. But, strange as it may
seem, the people cannot live on fresh air, unaccompanied by some stomachic
of a more substantial nature; yet they are forbidden to grumble at the
diet, or, if they do, they are silenced according to the good old Tory
plan of
[Illustration: OPENING A PARK FOR THE PEOPLE.
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