TO THE EDITOR OF THE PRESS. Sir, —A stoat this time. Herewith in evitable poem. G. B. S. I. I made a little poem on the cockey and the scmatter, And got it published in the Press, though some folks told mc not to. I then expressed my firm belief that stoats were fond of chickens; But what I've now got to relate is just the very dickens. 11. Whilst strolling in the evening by m 7 little babbling brook, I thought, somehow, I smelt a smell, and so I had a look. I did not search for long, oh 1 No, the cause was - not remote, For there before my eyes appeared what once had been a stoat. lIL There was no doubt about it, for he had a stumpy tail; His back was rather reddish, his stomach rather pale. I gazed upon him mournfully, and having some spare time, I seiz.d on pen and paper and just com posed this rhyme. IV. Now, prythee tell mc, Editor; or tell mc» printer's devil— I ask for information, for I'm wishing to be civil— Who's going to feed these little beasts when they h.ive scoft'ed the rabbits ? Will the asses who imported them before they knew their habits? V. I doubt it, for I know of old their simple little dodges. No 1 they'll condescend to let them starve or live on Giles or Hodges. Now, I, as tlodee, object to this, for they've a shocking (wist; I'm but a striijrgling Cockatoo, I'm no philanthropist. VI. I find it- hard> enough*, to live, in spite of ; wind and hail,. J I try to scratch along sofnehbwand elevate my tail ;■•••'" But I draw the line at animals who kill my fowls for fun, And wpald rattier _6t -have two small pests instead of only one. '. y& '■". Our impecunious Government is always wanting money." ■ A little plan occurs- td- mc which I think rather funny. > : An import tax on weasels bold, and eke. their friends the stoats, Put a brace of quid on youngsters, and on old ones say five notes. VIII. Oh! squatting men, both great and small, who live on lonely hills. Don't ride the willing horse to death, and add to cocky's ills. 