Half Baked [pp. 118]

118
VANITY FAIR
[MARCH 9, 1861.
Exactually she complied
And did as per request,
She laid her *PHALON-odored head,
On my.*SMITH Brothers vest.
CHORUS.-Oh my lovely Julia r &c.
And while she tells her bitter grief
My raptured breath I smother,
She sobs in broken syllables
I have a-bub-bub-brother I"
CHORUS.
"That brotheris a Congressman
But to my sup-pup-prise,
He won't vote for Kik-CRITNDPNs
Kik-kik-kik-Compromise!"'
CtORUS.
The shadow of the el-lum-tree
Is traversed by another,
A manly form breaks through the rye,
'Tis Julia Carey's brother!
CHORTUs.
He lifts her in his stalwart arms
And bids her dry her eyes,
. " I guess," says he, " that after all
I'll go the Compromise."
CHORUS.
The stars peep out, my Julia C.
Smiles with no grief to clog her,
Puts up her cambric, and my friend
Invites us down to lager.
CHORUS.
Now all who loves that form of beer,
Sweet smiles, or starry skies,
Go off straightway and vote for J.
J. CRrrrrNDi's compromise I
So much for our young friend from Kentucky. We received on
the same day another poetical advertisement, with a particular
request that it should be inserted in the Programme, previous to
the return of a celebrated divine, whose reappearance on our
melodramatic boards might otherwise fail to elicit the much
desired sensation. As it has been crowded out of our Cotemporary
by the same ubiquitous SMITH who squelched the other little thing
-we find a corner for it. It is short, and the last with which we
will sacrifice our reader's comfort on the shrine of personal advancement.
SUNRISE IN THE VALE OF CHAMOUNI.
AIR.-Let Erin remember the Days of Old.
I stood in the shadow of old Mont Blanc,
And wrote a book about him
But I thought of the Colored Man all the time,
And those cursed scamps who flout him I
I climbed to the top of the Pyramids,
And guessed their height to a figger,
But in the yellow Egyptian light
My principal thought was-the Nigger!
I drank camel's milk on the Bedouin sands,
Ate oats in the land of McPherson,
But I tasted, I swear, in my grub everywhere
The flavor of Colored Person.
I went to see the Sisters Seven
On LAURA KEENE'S stage spectacular,
They talked like the devil-but oh dear me I
It wasn't the true vernacular.
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I c1
i~~~~~Do na GOC.CEvRs
knwgres inadoae. Hlthr
g
e
*Don't you think that the merchants named might be induced to contribute a
little something towards the expense in consideration of that? J. J. C.
0

EXIT JACOBUS.
The last hour
is at hand!
JAMES - adieu!
We repeat it tear fully, mournfully
distinctly-adieu!
This is the last
booth - we mean
the last number of
VANITY FAIR in
which we can talk
to you as President
of so much of the
United States as
your enormous ge nius has left.
JAMES-CARLYLE
said that RonCs PIERE ought to
have been a sour,
narrow Methodist
preacher. You
were meant to shine in small vestry meetings-to dabble in ward
elections-to talk scandal with highly respectable old ladies, and
distinguish yourself generally by a white waistcoat.
And you are going!
Adieu! We're glad you're going to a peaceful Eye land surrounded
by very little water, where you are popular. How queer it
seems that you should be popular any Nhere. Adieu. -No more
shall we compliment you as present President no, not one solitary more. When you turn over our volumes and recall the days
when we were wont to distinguish you, perhaps you may wish
yourself President again. But dont do it. We made you celebrated JAMErs-we did our best by you. In your Retirement, pray
for VANITY FAIR.
~ Im
R' — i
.,...

HALF BAKED.
My Dear Editor of Vanity Fair:-I have always had a desire to
be a witty man. As SHERIDAN once said, "it is in me." The only
trouble is to get it out. In this matter you can aid me. What I
want is an Editor. I have splendid ideas of jokes anl such like
witty things. My only trouble is in perfecting them. Somehow
or other I can never do that part of the business. If you will help
me in this matter, I canI be the most valuable contributor you
have. Just now I have on hand a whole lot of conundrums to
which I want answers, and almost as many answers to which I
want conundrums. I will send you some of them. Perhaps it
would be interesting to your readers to make up the questions and
the answers for themselves.
For instance, here is a splendid conundrum. All that it wants
is an answer to complete it.
Why is President Buchanan like the late Nicholas Biddle?
You see, they were both Presidents, and one had the United
States and the other the United States Bank, and both failed in
their management.
I am quite certain that there is an answer to that conundrum
which would make it a first rate one. Now here is another.
Why could not the Southerners inCongress be soft-soaped by the
delegation from Wall Street?
You see Mr. LATHERS was one of the delegation. Some of the
fellows who do such things uip so neatly for you can make a great
hit on that. There is the same chance with my answers. Take
for instance the words,
or
or
Delusion and effusion,
Convict and conviction,
Prison and misprision.
All these words are good answers to questions bearing upon our
present political difficulties. The fact is that the air all about us
is as full of jokes asit is of music. All we want is the person who
can catch the fleeting joke and evolve its wit as Musicians do its
melody. If you can do any thing with these ideas, I will send you
more. Meanwhile I am yours. JOKOSUS.
The Great Literary Question of the Day.
What will WALT. WHITMAN'S Leaves of Grass be when they are
dried, and posterity has raked'em-Hey?
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