[Illustration:
Cordial reception.
Caught in his own gin.
]
12. Mr. Wakley declared, that Gin was his best friend—it was equal to
1000 inquests a year.
A Palace reared! and lo! _in quest_ of gin,
Thousands, _sans_ scruple, pass for drams within;
Water they'd spurn, e'en from Geneva's lake,
_Gin ever_—not Geneva's—they _will_ take:
_In quest_ of _that_, when they no more can run,
Wakley _his inquest_ holds, and all is done!