A POT OF PRESERVES FROM MOUNT PARNASSUS. 91

The batter’d scales—the little cart ;
It’s creaking wheels, unused to grease ;
The bits of meat on skewers held,
Sold at a halfpenny a piece.
I see them now !—In mem’ry’s ear
Hear, jolting on, the tiny van;
And catch his well-remembered tones!

Friend of my youth—the Cat’s Meat Man!

II.
Cat’s meat !—cat’s meat!
And the square and houses round—
Cat’s meat !—cat’s meat!
Echo back'the sound :
And Pussy, with her arching back,
And Tiny, Kiddlums, Trot, and Tit,
Around me press, with eager mews,
Expectant of the juicy bit.
And to the parlour straight I run,
Or seem to run, as erst I ran,
To fetch the halfpenny, well earned
By the true-hearted Cat’s Meat Man

Il.

Cat’s meat !—cat’s meat!

*T was a spell in times gone by: