A POT OF PRESERVES FROM MOUNT PARNASSUS. | 87

The objects of its members are not always the most distinct. But
as they are constantly urging each other to “ Push along,” “ Keep
moving,” “Clear the way,” &c., we presume they ate driving at some-
thing. The wonder is, with their restless and locomotive principles,
that they have not managed to “ get on,” ina literary sense, a little
better_than they have done.

KEEP IT UP, MY RUM’UNS.
A SONG FOR THE MILLION.
By C——-s M——y, Esa.
(From “Mackay while the Sun Shines,” a collection of Summer Lyrics. )
I.

Pusu along like one o’clock,

Battle, fight, and strive, boys:
Now then, stupid !—Who’s afraid ?

Keep the game alive, boys.

Might has triumph’d over Right,
Longer than is proper—quite :
Freedom’s trumpets sound to fight,—

Trumpets far from dumb ’uns,—
Bid Oppression take a sight ;

KEEP IT UP, MY RUM’UNS!