* * * * *
_Dr. Walcot, to Shield the Composer_.--The following was sent to
Shield, the ingenious composer, for his ivory ticket for admission to
a concert, by his friend Peter Pindar:--
Son of the _string_ (I do not mean Jack Ketch,
Though Jack, like _thee_, produceth _dying tones_;)
Oh! yield thy pity to a starving wretch,
And for to-morrow's _treat_, pray send thy _bones_.