POLITICAL SQUIBS.

Simon Spunkey, Esq. sheweth, that the prayer of a certain "Memorial," from Matthew Lyon, stating his pre-eminent qualifications for a seat in our National Legislature, is just and reasonable.---Talketh big words to Congress, and threateneth to overturn their apple-cart, and set his foot in it!

About our democratic brother,

Our famous chieftain, Colonel Lyon,
Who's forc'd his modesty to try on,

A dress, which friends and foes declare

Is

very little worse for wear;

And hie to Congress, with petition,
Describing his forlorn condition :
For that he, having been neglected,
Is not so great as he expected.

POLITICAL SQUIBS.

Lyon, like Jacobin of spirit, Proclaims his own transcendent merit, That, having canvass'd well the matter, He would not seem himself to flatter, But still is sure he is conspicuous In Rutland County, and contiguous; And is design'd by God, and Nature, For seat in Federal Legislature; That he was chosen, last December, Right honourable Congress Member, By votes a very large majority, And proves it by his own authority; His calculations can't deceive him, Yet Federal fools will not believe him. But would you learn his pithy story all Please to consult his wise "Memorial."

Now should you, Sirs, refuse his claim, His brother beasts would cry for shame!

POLITICAL SQUIBS.

All, wild and tame, like Balaam's ass,
Exclaim, how came this thing to pass!

But Fedralists, a stubborn pack, Still grope in error's mazy track; They say, that Lyon's votes were few,

That half he claims are not his due.

What, cannot common-sense be taught them? The votes were his, because he bought them! I'll tell you how he paid the cost,

And purchased many, which he lost.

To drive his patriotic plan on,
From frontier forts he took the cannon,
And, with the democratic metal,

Cast many a handsome five-pail kettle,
With which, to gain his popularity,

He pension'd half Vermont vulgarity.
A kettle was a pretty present

To any mountaineer, or peasant,

K

POLITICAL SQUIBS.

Who would procure him votes in plenty,— Each kettle paid, I think, for twenty!

Now, Messrs. Congress folks, I trow, You'd better let the Lyon go,

Or else in these hard times, and critical, We'll pelt ye, sirs, with squibs political; We, patriotic Jacobins,

Whom heaven ordain'd to punish sins,

Will shoot at every mother's son,
With pebble, whizzing from air-gun;
And you will not escape being smitten,
As did His Majesty of Britain!

Nor is this all you may expect If still you treat us with neglect; We'll change our squibs to cannonading, Sink Federal-ship, with all her lading, Enrich us with our country's plunder, And make e'en Washington knock under!

POLITICAL SQUIBS.

AN ADDRESS

To the

DEMAGOGUES OF SEDITION.*

LIFT your heads, ye sons of Faction!

Rouse, ye Jacobins, to action!

Stay awhile, and come and listen,
Let each meagre visage glisten,
For I will tell how every ninny

May safe in pocket lodge a guinea !

*This was written in 1795. At that time Frenchmen were intriguing in the United States. Genet, the French Embassador, and his hirelings, were striving to introduce in America those whimsical, and destructive theories, which have caused so much blood-shed in France.