48 BX 0 GRAPH I C AL SKETCHES. I‘ The History of Dover Castle. ~ By the Rev. William Darrell, Chaplain to Queen Elizabeth.” In 4t0, the same size as the large and small editions of the Antiquities of’ England and Wales; with ten views engraved from drawings by Captain Grose. “ A Provincial Glossary ; with a Collection of Local Proverbs and Popular Superstitions.” Lond. 1788. 8vo. . “Rules for Drawing Caricatures ; the subjectlillustrated with four copperplates; with an Essay on Comic Painting.” Lond. 1788. 8vo. A second edition 8ppeared in 179 1, Svo, illustrated with twenty-one copperplates, seventeen of which were etched by Captain Grose. After his demise was published “ The Olio ; being a collection of Essays, Dialogues, Letters, Biographical Sketches, etc. By the late Francis Grose, Esq., F.R.S. and A.S. ;” with a portrait of the author. There are dissertations by him in the Archseologia, the one “On an Ancient Fortification at Christchurch, Hants,” and the other “ On Ancient Spurs,” Although the verses written by Burns during Captain Grose’s peregrinations through Scotland collecting its antiquities are sufficiently well known, we cannot refrain from concluding this article with them : 1781. Lond. 1796. 8vo. Hear, Land 0’ Cakes, and brither Scots, Frae Maidenkirk to Johnny Groats, If there’s a hole in a’ your coats, A chiel’s amang you takin notes, If in your bounds ye chance to light Upon a fine, fat, fodgel wight, 0 stature short, but genius bright, An wow I he has an unco slight By some auld, houlet-haunted biggin, Or kirk deserted by its riggin, It’s ten to ane ye’ll find him snug in Wi’ deils, they say, - safe’s ! colleaguin Ilk ghaist that haunts auld ha’ or chamer, Ye gipsy-gang that deal in glamor, And TOU deep-read in hell’s black grammar, Ye’ll quake at his conjuiin hammer, It’s tauld he was a sodger bred, And ane wad rather fah than fled ; Bnt now he’s quat the spurtle-blade, An taen the-Antiquariaw, trade, I reds you tent it ; And, faith, he’ll prent it. That’s he, mark weel- 0’ cauk and keel. Some elllrich part, At some black art. Warlocks and witches, Ye midnight -. An dogskin wallet, I think they call it. He has a fouth 0’ add nick-nackets, Rusty aim cap#, an jingling jackets, Wad hand the Loudians three in tackets A towmond gude, And parritch pats, an auld sant-backets, Before the flood. 0’ Eve’s first fire he has ae cinder ; Auld Tubal-Cain’s fire-shoo1 and fender ; That which distinyished the gender 0’ Balaam’s ass ; A broom-stick 0’ the witch 0’ Endor, Wee1 shod wi’ brass. Forbye, he’ll &ape you aff fu’ gleg, The cut 0’ Adam’s philibeg, The knife that nicket Abel’s craig It was a fauldin jocteleg, But wad ye see him in his glee, For meikle glee and fun has he, Then set him down, an! twa or three And port, 0 port I shine thou a wee, Now, by the powers 0’ verse and prose ! Thou art a dainty chiel, 0 Grose I Whae’er 0’ thee shall ill suppose, I’d tak the rascal by the nose He’ll prove you fully, Or lang kail-gully. Gude fellows wi’ him ; And then ye’ll see him ! They sair misca’ thee, Wad say, Shame fa’ thee.