Intercepted Letters.--Ne. 2.
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To the Hon. \ d. S--r. Aul' ffrien'i write t'ye this letter, To tell ye that ae things the matter, But na to ding yere ears vi clatter

 U' silly clash; But comfort ye Is ten times better,

 Than gie ye fash. l wad na hae ye talk t 10 heart, Gin you an some aul' frien's suld part; An Vi this precepti' the start

 ise just begin, But Hude sake, aul frien'! be not scar't!

 For a yere sin. An, first place, there is Billy g. lie, that has been sac lang our mess, An said the dei word, unless

 We thocht Twas right; Has turn't aboot, an a contest,

 in black an white. l think't wad be special plan, Gin we wad choose some fighting man, Of them that carry pistols, an

 Lang kniyes aboet 'em; An malz the traitor haud his ham,

 Or up an shoot him. Gin ye will say the word, wese to 1t, 0f--wait weei-may be we'd rue t, On secon' thocht we wilma do it, For fear O law; Some ither gate wese waddle thro' it,

 Letters an q. We've had braw, fine set of men. To help us cot in a our ems, A drilled like sodgeYs, to atten'

 The slightest nod; An deil the ane O a, that kenned

 The way he trod. Te ne'er hae seen sic awkward loonss Gae toddlmg a aboot the toon, To read the signs, and gape aboon At every cranny; An some that did in grog-shops croon,

 An sing "aut gronny." We had them drilled-there's that much in An weel they minded every hint; So if the Public Moneys spent,

 Wese get 1t a, Moo let them put us into brent!

 Wha cares straw? Nae matter how yere foes forgather, i'se be vi ye in a the bother, An gin the ane suld leave the tither, 'I'is no my faut. In short an lang, wese stick thegither,

 Ny word t'ye fort. Swear that he 11Htk is na sic thing, Let Billy Buck his gauntlet fling, An swear it too--an' he can ding

 He WarP at lYin.; An !, auP fiien! will t'ye cling,

 Stanin or flynn. Gae on, Gie P-e an' me the CASH, Let us upon improvements dash, My word. their tears can he'er abash

 Or alter me Let na auP wives an children fash

 Sic chiefs as we. Ne'er mind the Peoples noisy screed, But trust to us-wese haud we're head, An spite O a ye sail be sped,

 Or Pm 3 jester; c me the cash; an l will bleed

 An die, yours, CHESTER, 