HE rose as the morning peeped ruddy and fair
On the verge of the eastern horizon.
He waxed his mustache and pomaded his hair,
And put his most dandified guise on.
Then made a brief pilgrimage out to the square,
And toned up his system with "pizon."
Ah! Spriggins to-day is a sight to be seen!
His beaver is neatly re-pressed;
Each coralline stud is the size of a bean,
And white is no name for his vest;
By the fit of his coat, none-I care not how keen-
That it is not his own can have guessed.
He knows he is looking decidedly well,
For his beard shows assiduous tillage,
And his general style is so gorgeously "swell,"