■ OUMMU -ga— ^M K- THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES VERSES F. W. W. PATTEN DEN. VERSES BY F. W. W. PATTEN DEN. Collected AND Privately Printed. Eontion : JAMES CLARKE & CO., 13 & 14, FLEET STREET. 1891. /\tl CONTENTS. Prize Poems at THE Gkammak LiNCOLNBHIEE. School, Boston, irOTQlSi •.. ••• ••• ••• •*. Printing The Arctic Regions Visit of the Prince of Wales to India Welcome to the Prince of Wales on his Eeturn from India PAGE 1 4 8 11 18 Veeses Weitten on Vabioub Occabionb Dueing A Tbip Eound the Woeld. One More Kiver 22 Births.., 26 A Trip on the Zealandia ... 26 Nonsense Verses 27 An Acrostic 28 The Gallant Skipper 29 Yokohama Amateur Regatta 30 On an Amateur Performance of "A Scrap of Paper" 33 The New York Elevated Railway: The "L" 34 The Elevated Railway 37 Sherman and Sheridan 38 Night Thoughts .. 39 Published Veeses on Vaeioub Subjects. Sketches at the " Inventories " The Colonies 42 47 O vi CONTENTS. TASK The Egg Machine .. 53 A Dead Secret . 58 A Girl's Grievance . 64 The Anti-Lucifer Match . 67 The " Eational Dress " Crusade . 71 Dr. Brown's First Patient . 75 The Story of a Practical Joke . 81 The Almighty Dollar . 89 My First Love . 93 A Fancy Bazaar . 101 "Poor Green!" . 106 The Stranger at Mac Vittey's . 113 Lord Tomnoddy . 120 The Passenger for Crewe . 128 " A Fool and his Money " . 132 Ode to a Masher . 138 The Tale of a Tin Box . 143 The Wail of a Weary M.P . 150 The Amateur Detective .. 154 The British Juror .. 158 Bribery and Corruption ! or, the Comic Companion to the Corrupt Practices Act. The Draper's Dilemma .. 163 A Caution to Cabmen .. 166 The Working Man's Woes .. 169 Wanted— A Lift .. 171 The Committeeman's Complaint .. 174 Song of the Starving Electors .. 178 Paddy's Reflections on the Fourth of July .. 181 My Confession .. 183 The Briefless Brigade .. 185 " Vies " et Prseterea Nihil .. 189 Goose and Gander .. 190 Labby in Our Abbey .. 192 The Ne-w Obadiahs .. 193 A Hair-breadth 'Scape .. 195 The Busy Bee .. 196 A Patriot's Plaint .. 198 A Voice from Delphi .. 199 "Excrescences" .. 201 " One Good Turn Deserves Another " .. 202 Off! .. 203 Home Rule has Won .. 206 The Law and the Ladies .. 207 CONTENTS. vii Unpublished Veesbs on Vabiotjs Subjectb. PAOE New Year's Thoughts : 1888 208 The Inventions Committee 214 The Anti-Lucifer Match 217 The Chin-Mower 221 After the Jubilee 229 On Lefroy, the Murderer of Mr. Gold 231 The Cat 231 "Orange" 232 A Nursery Ehyme Eevised 233 The Commercial Traveller 233 Parliamentary Alphabet 234 Board of Works— Obituary 235 Gordon to the Eescue 236 The Chair ! the Chair ! the Chair ! 238 Mr. Gladstone and the Eisteddfod 239 Mr. Gladstone and the Wasp 241 Trevelyan the Trimmer 241 Pairs and the AU-Night Sitting of March 21, 1887 ... 245 First Class 247 The Missing Link ..248 Parnell on his " Last Link " Speech 249 The Eape of the Moustache 250 " Not To-day, Baker ! " 252 War Symptoms ... ... ... ... 253 The Boy-King of Servia 255 Eecipe for Milk Punch 256 An Acrostic and Letter to Fanny on her Engagement 258 The " Moist and Jovial" 261 Dirge of a Disappointed Man 264 An Afternoon Call... 266 Eetribution 269 The Broken Bracelet 271 A Parting Message :i74 Teh! 275 My Favourite Pipe 277 To Mabel 278 ToM, G 279 A Eecommendation for a Canton Guide, Wong Ayew 279 To Signor D attar i 280 Motto for Dattari 280 Lines Written in the Autograph Book of Mies Kough 281 viii CONTENTS. Veeseb foe OB TO Childeen. PAGE Poll Parrot 282 To DoUy 283 To Rodney 284 To Violet Hamer (The " Dodo ") 284 To Max 284 To Gladys 285 To GeofErey 286 To Gwendolen 286 To Charlie 287 To Phyllis 287 Two Christmas Cards 288 MiSCELLANKOUS VeRSKS. An Indian Alphabet 289 P. & O. s.s. Ganges 293 " We'll all go a-hunting with Eea " 294 " How is that for Low ? " 298 The Melancholy Stranger's Tarn 299 "The Ladies' Darling" 301 An Incident at Honolulu 304 Song of an E.A 304 At Sea 308 The Sailor Lad to His Sweetheart 309 Names of certain Actresses Ehymed 313 On some Christmas " Verses " 313 W. E. G 314 The Pope and Monte Carlo 314 Alphabet ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 315 A Letter containing Parodies 316 A Letter to E. W. P 319 Another Letter to E. W. P 320 VERSES BY F. W. W. PATTENDEN, prise ipocms at tbe (Brammar Scbool, :Bo8ton, Xincolnsbire. PERSIA. O AIL Iran ! ancient Iran ! sacred name ■^ -*- To every heart that Ayran blood can claim ! What land can boast the imperial renown That decked the lustre of thy former crown ? Ah ! could the annals of thy pristine might Unfold their wonders to the astonished sight, What records of the long-forgotten dead Would rouse the warrior from his earthy bed, To fight his former battles o'er again. And reap the glory that he died to gain ? Once more gi-eat Cyrus beats his rivals down. And treads the bloody path that gives a crown. Again his warriors, niu-sed in victory, scale The cliffs that fro-vvn o'er Hermus' rugged vale. Where Sardis nestles 'mid its guardian rocks. That seem to brave or time's or battle's shocks. Again he fells Belshazzar's tott'ring thi-one, And gains the brass-capped walls of Babylon ; Subdues the unsubdued, and adds a gem To the bright frontlet of his diadem. But see ! Darius arms his myriad host To pour their living flood on Hellas' coast. 2 PRIZE POEMS. See how tlie Persian dreads the wild career And crushing onset of the Athenian spear ! See how Darius' craven hirelings bend And cower 'neath "freedom's best and bravest friend"; And deluging with war a land of peace, Win Grecian graves instead of conquered Greece. Ah ! hapless Iran ! thine it was to mourn Thy sons who fought and fell at Marathon ; Reft of thy bravest children, thine to see Thy legions baffled at Thermopylae ; Where Spartans in their death "VYi-ought deathless deeds. And falling fell 'mid heai^s of slaughtered Medes. There in the bosom of that reeking pass Died Sparta's noblest son, Leonidas. No victor's garlands Sparta's brows shall grace. For cypress-wi'eaths the laiu'el-crowns displace. Mourn for him, Hellas ! Ii'an, moui-n, for know Ne'er warrior fell beneath a nobler foe. No need a short-lived monument to raise : He has a living tomb that ne'er decays. No need of bards his glory to attest : He lives enshrined in every Grecian breast. Ah ! Salamis ! thou too hast heard the roar Of Freedom battling roimd thy sea-gii-t shore ; When Greek and Persian mingled seas of blood, Purpling the glutted, still insatiate flood ; When haughty Xerxes' vanquished armament Back in a sm'ge of their own gore was sent. Ah, hapless Salamis ! thy conscious wave Still sighs and moans o'er many a hero's gi'ave. See, Persia, see where Philip's warlike son Triumphant leads his conquering legions on ; SpiuTis the fair flowers of Peace with iron car, And crushes her beneath the heel of war. PRIZE POEMS. 3 As o'er the rocks the avalauche thundering do"vvn Whelms with colossal mass the helpless town, So, Iran, like a thunderbolt on thee Rushed the avenger of Thermopylae. Granicus felt the bloody hand of war, Its waters glo"vving with its childi'en's gore. Then trampling do->vn the dying and the dead, To Issus' stream the laurelled phalanx sped. Onward again they urge their deadly way. And swoop like vultiu-es on the wi-ithing prey ; On fair Arbela's plains they deal the blow That lays the pride and power of Iran low. Cumbered by myriads fell that huge array. And in their very strength their weakness lay. The vanquished Persian urged his wild retreat, And Asia bowed at Alexander's feet. High o'er his helm the avenging eagle stood, Its weary pinions steeped in Persian blood. Yet he who conquered on the embattled plain. Who fought no bloodless victory to gain, He sears the laurels of a deed like this In the charred ashes of Persepolis. Yes, fired by Thais' charms, his maddened hand. Trained to the sword, now wields the flaming brand. Mourn thy lost beauty, Iran, curse the feast That marred thy child, " the glory of the East." Weep, Iran ! darker days are yet in store, When fierce Mohammed o'er the world shall pour The flood of Moslem zealots nought can stem. Pagan to us, a Demigod to them. From Beder's field of blood and Ohud's plain Sweeps the Impostor-Prophet's conquering train. Ambition leads the way and blinded zeal And back their faith with arguments of steel. 4 PRIZE POEMS, The sword their God, they yoke the steeds of war With gory chains to fair Religion's car. On come those fiends of fight, that wolfish horde. Their battle-cry, " The Koran or the Sword." Is there no patriot in all the land For Mithi-as' sake to raise a Gheber's hand ? Shall Iran leave the faith its sires adored, And cringe before a self-created Lord ? " Islam or Death ! " the frenzied Moslems cry. Well, better far that every Gheber die. Than see his country wi'ithing 'neath the heel Of those accursed votaries of the steel. What men could do they did, but all in vain, They fell entombed in heaps of Moslem slain. Where, Iran, where are now such hearts as those That scorned to yield them to theii* country's foes, Welcomed in Mithi-as' cause a patriot's death, And cui'sed Mohammed with their dying breath P Alas for Iran, childless and forlorn, — Her laui'els trampled and her banners torn, — Islam — her faith, — her people — slaves, — proclaim Iran is Iran now in nought but name. December, 1873. PRINTING. r\ FOR the power to build the loftier rhyme ^-^ That graced the poesy of former time. When fancy mantled with a golden dress The forms she conjured out of nothingness ! Just as the sculptor — whose deft hand can give Breath to the stone, and make the marble live. PRIZE POEMS. God-like can bid a mortal form, to be, And rear tbe ideal of humanity : — When at his feet Carrara's wealth is strown, Where others see a shapeless mass of stone, He dreams of shadowy forms that wait his art, Beneath his magic chisel-stroke to start Into the half -immortal form and face Of perfect symmetry and perfect gi-ace. Here, frowning thunder, lowers Olympian Jove, There Yenus smiles with aU the power of love : Here Ares stands, and here the himtress Queen, With sage Athene's classic face between : There childless Niobe pours the stony tear, While next her towers the perfect " Belvedere." With such a master-mind the poets brought New creatures from the untrodden realms of thought, Embodied all the shadows of their dream, And in the wild caprice of power supreme Clothed their creation with ideal grace, And spurned the vulgar world of common-place. Thus in their Paradise a stream, they told. Poured its bright waters over sands of gold. So pure, the sun half-seemed to pause awhile. Upon its dancing portraiture to smile, Ling'ring to gaze upon its golden beam Gilded anew in bright Pactolus' stream ; And the wild swallow loved to plume her breast And glossy wings, o'er this the loveliest Of all the miiTors Nature wrought to enhance Her children's forms with pictured radiance. Such and so bright the stream of Knowledge flows, Tracing a golden path where'er it goes : Its healing water knows but how to bless. And makes a garden of a wilderness. € PRIZE POEMS. Tlie fabled stream, how broad so e'er it rolled. With greedy waters hugged its useless gold, But Knowledge showers abroad its precious store, And only hoards it to bestow the more : Like Salem's pool, it lifts the weakly up, Honeys the lips to soitow's bitterest cup, And o'er the sinking mind, with solace fraught, It waves the wings of Hope, the lovely after-thought. Fom-teen long centui'ies the Gospel-light Had but half -made the gloom of ignorance bright ; So long had Knowledge wi-estled with her foe ; So loth were men her priceless boons to know ; Still Ignorance clung to her degrading sway. Still found she priests her mandates to obey. As far-ofE stars, tho' robed in heavenly light. Scarce lend a glimmer to the shade of night, So Knowledge, high o'er all things worldly rear'd. Scarce pierced the darkness of the common herd. Till loud to heaven she cried against her foes, And, heaven-sent helper, G-utenberg arose. Far from life's busy whirl, by Main's blue stream. He nursed with secret love his hope, his dream. Many a long, long day of toil passed by In the slow train of dull monotony. And still the earnest brow, the hollow cheek, And distant look, that thoughtful laboiu* speak, And the fii-m mouth, where suffering graves her trace, Still mai-ked the student severed from his race. As the skilled pilot in a sheltered bay, — Where, weary of their aU too boisterous play. The wanton billows fain would sink to rest. And lay their heads on peaceful Ocean's breast, — Looks fearless from his silver-cradled spot, Sees the mad tempest rage and heeds it not, PRIZE POEMS. So to the student passed unnoticed by The cares and pleasui'es of humanity; And life with all its duties, all its calls, Dwarfed to the limits of his chamber's walls, Showed him but one idea, his aim, his end, His only solace, and his only friend. At length the wondi'ous work is fully wi'ought, The tenfold fruit of aU his toil and thought ; And printing speeds on pinions of the wind To shape the world anew, and change mankind, In that fair pile, where shrined in glory rest Those Britain styles her gi-eatest and her best, Too late, alas ! theii* clouded sight to bless, Our English Caxton reared the Printing Press. With such quick strides Invention speeds her way The man of yesterday's a babe to-day ; The myth to-day, that sober minds would chase, May haply be to-morrow's common-place. Bom amid kings and bards her f au-est child In the fii'st grace of infant beauty smil'd. But as the hoai* frost chills the opening flower, As on the waking mom the storm-clouds lower, With blasting fury on the weakly life Biirst the fierce rolling tide of holy strife. Religion, maddened with the battle-cry, Tui'ned her wild arms upon her best ally. In vain : the influence scatters east and west Her radiance, ever blessing, ever blest : And Knowledge, spreading wide from coast to coast. Pom's its full blaze — a second Pentecost — Raising the dimness of our mortal sight To the perfection of celestial light. December. 1874. 8 PRIZE POEMS. THE ARCTIC REGIONS. J EE how yon vessel at her cable strains, With quiv'ring sides, to burst her iron chains. See how the crowds on pier and jetty swell. To speed theu' loved ones with a last farewell Here a proud mother strives to hide her fear. And checks the weakness of the natural tear ; There a fond wife upbraids with tender voice, And makes her sailor half repent his choice. To lose the magic of that warm word " Home," In frozen Nature's prison-house to roam ; To go, he knows not where, and come again. If come he may, he knows not how or when. Past is the anguish of the parting tear, The bitterest pang that life inherits here ; When first the sundered hearts the keenest feel The maddening wound that time and patience heal. Still strains the ship, in headlong race to vie With the proud waves that mocking pass her by : As, in past days, the generous Elian mare With trembling petulance snuffed the bracing air. And neighed and panted past the bar to fly. That shut the road to fame and victory. Soon her flushed owner proudly takes his stand. With Altis' hard-earned palm-branch in his hand. The anchor's heaved ; she flies — with futile force The straining eyes of love would stay her course. Now the far object baulks the dazzled gaze, Where sea and sky unite in one blue haze. PRIZE POEMS. 9 Soon over floe and iceberg, sea and land, Tlie Ai'ctic night will fix its withering hand ; Soon the last gleams of the long day will smile O'er Greenland's glacier-plains and Zembla's isle ; The fiery Sun grow ruddier still and less, And faster leave the world to loneliness ; Till, like a drowning man, the ocean o'er It stmggles once, then sinks to rise no more. The helpless vessel in these icy fields To Natm'e's adamantine bondage yields : Loud howls the blast, the quivering timbers creak, And chafe the shackling ice, but all too weak. As when a troubled sleeper fain would flee The weu'd creation of his fantasy ; The shriek, half -uttered, chokes upon his lip ; His fingers stiffen with convulsive grip. The gi'isly horror still piu'sues amain, And still the rebel limbs defy the brain. His helpless knees but mock his frenzied sense, And cower in agonising impotence. See, a dark arch of clouds o'erspreads the sky. Fringed with a halo of pale brilliancy ! Now a bright ray, athwart the chilly night, Sways, like a wind-tost ribbon clothed in light, Then fades before a thousand coloiu-ed beams, That sparkle forth in ever- varying streams ; While, in the zenith, pours serenely down The silvery splendom* of the Boreal cro^Ti ! Till the dazed eye beholds the etherial frame, A cupola of scintillating flame. Faintly distinct a mystic rustling soimds, Thi-iUs the crisp air, and frights the cowering hounds. 10 PRIZE POEMS. Round the beleaguered vessel slowly grow, In frozen heaps the battlements of snow. Yet can they make the ice some warmth supply, And have a friend in their chief enemy. Though loud without the baffled tempest's din, Louder the answering notes of mirth within ; While peerless Shakespeare sways the listening throng. Or Handel melts with all the power of song. Now round the hearth the eager listeners come — Their sole memento of the hearths at home — Whilst one, on whose grey locks and storm-beat face, Hardship has fiu-rowed her recording trace. Tells of the time when Franklin led his crew O'er ice-bound plains, a faint and jaded few ; And how that hardy child of Lincoln's soil Faced every peril, hardier still in toil ; The while his fainting sailors fell around. Nor grudged their way-worn bodies to the ground. Thus they deceive the night, till o'er the sea The waking Sun throws off his lethargy. As bees reviving at the breath of Spring Flit round the hive with busy murmuring ; Or like the fabled ghosts that midnight calls To the grim banquet-war in Odin's halls : Thus the bold seamen wake to seek their goal. To scour the ice, and gain the wondi-ous Pole. That spot no human eye has lived to see. Mysterious Nature's great anomaly : That spot where circling sirns nor set nor rise. And stars stand motionless in constant skies : Where'er the eye may rove is South alone : The card forgets its points and knows but one. PRIZE POEMS. 11 There, 'mid the ice, the ancient legends tell, Apollo's Hyperborean favourites dwell, Dowered with Spring eternal, cloudless skies, Immortal youth, an earthly Paradise. Nor, sceptic, call it vain, that Science deems Those snow-clad wilds once felt the torrid beams. Once and again has IvTature barred the way, And baffled human art must needs obey. Back have oiu- Yikings tm-ned their prows again : They did what men could do, and did in vain. Yet live there still, who such a task will dare : Still Albion's sons know not the word — despair : Warm English hearts frights not the Ai'ctic cold : Peril, that scares the coward, lures the bold. Forth sped the summons, and not one, but all Rose as one man, at Queen and coimtry's call. One vacant place a hundred siippliants ask : Not levying, then, biit choosing was the task. Now first the vaporous force its aid has bro^^ght, With all that hardly-won experience taught. To Britain's sons again the woi-k is given, And Honour leads the van — so speed them Heaven ! June, 1875. VISIT OF THE PRINCE OF WALES TO INDIA. TTUSHED is the hoiise : no voice of mirth, no sound of laughter peals. And through the halls with chilling power a sombre silence steals, 12 PRIZE POEMS. And children look with wond'ring eyes, and speak with bated breath, While none dare say, yet all can feel — it is the house of death. Around his couch a sorrowing throng of silent mouraers stand, Where, flushed and haggard, lies oui' prince, the heii' of all the land. 'Tis sorrow's court ; and there he lies stretched on that ghastly bed, Where fever fires the thi-obbing veins, and racks the aching head. Even hope, long sojoiu*ner, deserts the cheerless thi*eshold now — And yet how well a diadem would sit upon that brow ! Ay, so it shall ! for God heard then a moiu'ning nation's voice. Baulked the gi-ini tyrant of his prey, and bade the land rejoice. Time rolls away, and Albion bows in common prayer again, That Heaven may watch around her prince across the angry main. And God, who from the Jaws of death has plucked that precious life, Will guard it through the boisterous clash of elemental strife. The waves that back from Csesar's skiff in baffled teiTor pom-ed. Will shi-ink where good Scrapis bears a mightier empire's lord. So speed thee well through all the storms of many a fitful sea : PRIZE POEMS, 13 Good sliip, thou hast a golden freight, a nation's heart, in thee ! Yet never in the fiercest rage of beating tempests wince : Be this thy safeguard through them all — thou bearest Albion's prince. Land of the snow-gu*t mountain-chain, land of the tangled wood. Where fertile plains and arid wastes bathe in a golden flood; Where streams of silver softly thread the jungle's inmost maze, And fresh from snowy couches love to shun the garish blaze. The gaudy parrot poiu's its cries from all but human throat, The timid ring-dove answers back the bulbul's mellow note, Moiint, vale and plateau, mead and waste, all teem alike in thee Thou sample-pattern of the world, the earth's epitome. Where all is one fair printed leaf, just fresh from Nature's press. Of all God's works, man's soul alone is gloomy wilderness. Yet Superstition's noxious hand, that tyrant of the soul, With foulest blots has soiled the page, and marred the beauteous whole ; With coarser thoughts and things of earth debased the once refined. And as with Circe's witching rod, has brutalised the mind. 14 PRIZE POEMS. Human in passions are their gods, ay, worse tlian human too : All Pandemonium could not send to earth a viler crew. Here Siva with his river-crown and ghastly necklace frights The sensual crowd that bends the knee to his revolting rites. There Doorga's votaries implore their queen with beaten breast To reign within her image-form and grace her holy feast ; " Descend, celestial queen, enshrined in every Hindoo heart. To this cold stone the ambrosial breath of heavenly life impart. She comes, she comes : then speed the dance, enwi-eathe her sacred brow, No age so weak, no heai't so chill, bi;t glows with fervour now." Now peals that ill-named worship, hideous reveli-y from far, Where Yislinu tops the carven bulk of Jaggernauth's dread car. No organ's solemn incense breathes around the heavenly thi-one : Biit shrieks and yells, fit harmony to soothe the ears of stone. Crashing, the sacred chariot drags its ponderous weight along, A-nd leaves a mangled trail of death amid the frenzied throng. PRIZE POEMS. 15 As measured music's varying tones in blended cadence roll, Eacli -without other incomplete : combined, a perfect whole ; Still winding in the harmony, yet ever softly clear, One key-note breathing through the rest speaks to the practised ear. Even so the Babel- voices hum from out the maddened crowd, "While ever and again above the clamour rises loud A shi'iek, the key-note to the rest, " To thee, to thee, my god, The offering thou lovest best, I give my life, my blood." Ah ! TN^here is that pure worship o£ the bygone days of Ind, Ere bloody conquest swept the land, like a Su'occo wind? When man in gloom benighted toward the gliramering beacon trod, When, Nature's God unknown, he made Nature herself his God. When Agni's fire and Marut's blast, and India's cloudless blue, And Surya's beam, and Ushas' blush were all the gods he knew. When purity was still untouched by the rough hands of vice, And Soma's mystic essence was his only sacrifice : When in his soul Genasa breathed the Veda's holy page. And Yishnu showered Armita down the immortal beverage. 16 PRIZE POEMS. But as in stagnant waters, be they ne'er so fresh and clear, Ei-e long unsightly forms pollute, and noxious weeds appear ; So men would fain these harmless rites with coarser orgies stain, And pay the ruthless homage of the human victim slain. That men should their Creator glut with feasts of creatiu'e food. And soothe the Almighty Father with His slaughtered children's blood ! Then sped, like fire o'er pampas-plains, the infuriate Moslem horde, And India lay a wounded life 'neath Mahmoud's conqu'ring sword. Then Islam and the Koran with the zealot warriors come, And Vedas, scorned by victors, with the vanquished find a home. In vain the Mongiil raised his spear the Moslem power to shake. In vain the foreign tide upon the imbedded granite brake. Worthy the soldier-prophet's name, a new Mohammed rose. And dying stemmed the torrent of his god and coimtry's foes : Brief respite this : the Crescent-light, long flickering on the wane, Now dim and paling sank before the star of Tamerlane. Yet, India, thou again beneath a foreign yoke shalt bend, In bonds, but bonds of love, shalt own thy conqu'ror and thy friend. PRIZE POEMS. 17 Commerce, a mightier power than arms, lays the foundation stone Of a far wider empire than Aurungsebe called his own, On that a Olive, a Wellesley reared the tower of Britain's sway. Cemented with the out-poured blood of Plassy and Assaye. No province this for Roman lords in slavery's chains to hold, To gi'ind the poor and scare the rich, in their mad lust for gold ; No tyrants now of Timur's house the groaning land oppress. But India, ruled for India's good, tastes peace and happiness. No more fierce Kali's vassal-bands for the doomed traveller lurk. In impious hope that heavenly bliss will crown their murd'rous work ; No more the mourning widow mounts her lord's funereal pyi'e, And thinks celestial glory lies beyond that road of fire. Speed thee, Serapis i bold thy task and high thy mission now : No sacred Delian bark had e'er a holier end than thou. What stronger pledge could Albion send, what more could India crave ? For lo ! we give her here the best, the dearest pledge we have. December, 1875. 18 PRIZE POEMS. WELCOME TO THE PRINCE OF WALES ON HIS RETURN FROM INDIA. Q ONS of Britain, shout the greeting ! ^ Loud the joyous welcome raise ! In a choir of triumph meeting Peal the echo of his praise ! Long in foreign climes a stranger Albion haUs her eldest son : All the hardship, all the danger, All the dark foreboding done. Angry billows fell before him, Shrank the jungle's teeming brood : Mightier powers were watching o'er him. Guiding him o'er land and flood. Well has India kept the treasure, Given her loyal heart to prove, Filled to overflow the measure Of a grateful nation's love. Many a time have Kings victorious Won the immortal bay ere now ; None more worthy, none more glorious E'er has won his meed, than thou. Home at last ! the note of gladness To the wanderer's heai-t has come ; Now put off your boding sadness, Britons, shout his welcome home ! No more the Indian wonders now At abstract I'ule and powers unseen. That give him laws, he knows not how. But vaguely asks what all may mean. PRIZE POEMS. 19 'Tis hard for human hearts to love A name, but now 'tis theirs to see Embodied in their presence move The form of Britain's sovereignty. Not vain the work that he has done, Nor light the perils he has past ; But the brave soul within has won, And victory crowns his toil at last : — Not victory got with blood, as erst. When Timur broke his deadly way, Or when the British handful burst Upon the mjrriads of Assaye. But grows the tree without the knife ? What stone uncut its brilliance showers ? Not far the time when India's life And India's strength shall rival oui's : When that fau- jewel of our crown. No more the rough, the uncut gem, Polished by British arts has grown The glory of oixr diadem. And who shall say the Briton's heart Has lost the vigour of his sires. That his chilled soiil is slow to start To the pui'e blaze of patriot fires ? That England's pulse is cold and dead, And true-born English hearts are rare Faith, Courage, Truth, all, all are fled And Britons are not what they were ? Defiant Albion still may rise, If such a whisperer vile there be, Cast in his teeth the traitor's lies, And, Albert Edward, point to thee. The generous stream that thi-obbed of yore In the blue depths of Alfred's veins, 20 PRIZE POEMS. That fired a Richard's soul, and bore The Norman lord to Albion's plains : The blood that nerved an Edward's arm, And spurred him thi-ough the battle's shock. That blood flows still as pure, as warm, In every scion of his stock. Whate'er their task, that Kingly stem, Nor faint their heart, nor slow their hand : No Briton e'er need blush for them, The pride, the glory of owx land. And we for Fatherland and fame Can still the patriot's laurel woo ; Our English sires we dare not shame, What they have done we still can do. The Lion sleeps perchance, but still His teeth are no less sharp to-day, Than when let loose from Brussels' hill He rushed upon the shrinking prey. Their country's call, whate'er the task, Ne'er strikes unheard on Britons' ears : They go to life or death, nor ask What toils or dangers may be theirs ; Whether on Alma's battled rock To buy with blood the victor's wreath, Or startled worlds with wonder shock In Balaclava's vale of death ; Or Nature's secrets from her wrest. Where Nile once hid beneath his sand, Or where in ice-bo\ind armour drest She frowns upon the adventurous band. Then, India, join thy heart and voice, Wreath him a crown of Eastern flowers, Bid all thy swarthy sons rejoice, And let thy triumph equal ours ! PRIZE POEMS. 21 And, Britons, bear ye not to hear His glory dimmed, his laurels torn ! What prince or monarch, far or near, Could bear the toils that he has borne ? Then welcome, Britain's princely heir, The fairest branch of England's vine. No venal burst of praise we bear, No British heart but beats with thine. From tower and cottage, high and low In loyal love united come. And with triumphant rapture show How England bids thee welcome home JuNH, 1876. 22 VERSES WRITTEN DURING A Derses written o\\ x^arioiis occasions &nrincj a Urip IRoun^ tbe Morlt). ONE MORE RIVER. Bung by the Zeala^idia Minstrels, June 6th, 1883. Writteyi for the occasion by Ned Nettap. JOHN ELDER built a stip one day, " There's one more river to cross, And called it the Zealandia,, There's one more river to cross. Chorus — One more river, and that's the river of Jordan, One more river — there's one more river to cross- The ofl&cers came in one by one, There's one, et<5. With Captain Webber so full of fiin, There's one, etc. Chokus — One more river, etc. The officers came in two by two, There's one, etc. Tyler the Chief, in a coat of blue, There's one, etc. Chorus — One more river, etc. TRIP ROUND THE WORLD. 23 The officers came in three by thi-ee, There's one, etc. With Morris— a handsome man is he, There's one, etc. Chokus — One more river, etc. The officers came in four by four, There's one, etc. With Williams, a careful navigator, There's one, etc. Chorus — One more river, etc. The officers came in five by five, There's one, etc. With smart little Robb, who's all alive, There's one, etc. Chokus — One more river, etc. The officers came in six by six. There's one, etc. The Purser, whom I've seen up to his tricks, There's one, etc. Chokus — One more liver, etc. The officers came in seven by seven. There's one, etc. The Doctor who helps us off to heaven, There's one, etc. Chorus — One more river, etc. The passengers came in eight by eight There's one, etc. The girl who at breakfast's always late. There's one, etc. Chorus— One more river, etc. 24 VERSES WRITTEN DURING A The passengers came in nine by nine, There's one, etc. An elegant, eloquent Argentine, There's one, etc. Chorus — One more river, etc. The passengers came in ten by ten, There's one, etc. That scurrilous scribbler, Pattenden, There's one, etc. Chorus — One more river, etc. The passengers came in quite a number, There's one, etc. Old Nathan who loves in his chair to slimiber. There's one, etc. Chorus— One more river, etc. The passengers still came trooping in. There's one, etc. The ladies' darling, Benjamin, There's one, etc. Chorus — One more river, etc. The passengers came in a mighty throng. There's one, etc. The German whose coat is a mile too long, There's one, etc. Chorus— One more river, etc. The passengers came in all that day. There's one, etc. The pair that frequent the companion-way. There's one, etc. Chorus — One more river, etc. TRIP ROUND THE WORLD. 25 The passengers came in a motley crew. There's one, etc. A lovely girl from HonoluZtt, There's one, etc. Chorus — One more river, etc. Thei'e came the veteran, gay and skittish, There's one, etc. Maccabe, the foe of tyranny British, There's one, etc. Choeus — One more river, etc. The man who repeats a niirsery rhyme, There's one, et<;. And knows how to give you enough at a time, There's one, etc. Chobus— One more river, etc. The glmving Major, a gay young sparJc, There's one, etc. Who wickedly doesn't believe in the arc, There's one, etc. Chorus — One more river, etc. At last there came a handsome group. There's one, etc. The great Zealandia Minstrel Troupe, There's one, etc. Chorus — One more river, etc. Junk, 1883. 26 VERSES WRITTEN DURING A BIRTHS. AT Woodbiirn, Bucks, England, on Marcli 25th (Easter Day), the wife of EdAvin Thomas, of the Harmonious Table, of twins— boy and girl. [By Telegraph.] ^ Poor Thomas even in this life Is punished for his sins : By way of Easter eggs, his wife Presented him with twins ! June, 1883. A TRIP ON THE "ZEALANDIA." By an ^^Alphabetical, Every-day Young Man." A IS the Agent so civil and spruce ; •^■*- B is the Berth he reserved for my use ; C is our Captain, the joUiest of boys ; D is the big D he never employs ; E's a young Englishman, fussy and mannish ; F is our Friend who harangues us in Spanish ; G is the German who has on his best coat ; H is the Hebrew who won't wear a waistcoat ; I is the Ice — I'm so glad they have taken it ; J is the Jimip that the passengers make on it ; K is the King of the fathomless ocean ; TRIP ROUND THE WORLD, 27 L is the Line where he makes a commotion ; M is the Mariner always athirst ; N is the Novice who's shaved and immersed ; O is the Ordeal he has to go through ; P is the Pleasui'e it gives to the crew ; Q is the Qualm that I hardly need name ; R is the Roll that produces the same ; S is the Steward we foolishly trust in ; T is the Terms we express our disgust in ; U's the United States' thi-ice welcome shore ; V is the Vow that we'll voyage no more ; W's the Way that the said vow we break ; X the 'Xcuse we invariably make ; y is the Yankees, we'U shortly be greeting ; Z's the Zealandia, record time beating. Ned Nettap. June, 1883. NONSENSE VERSES. A YOUNG man on board the Zealandia, ■*••*- When his hind legs grew handier and handier, Said : " For giving more pm-chase Whenever she lurches, They're cei'tainly very much handier." A lady on board the Australia Tried to grow in her cabin a dahlia But the Steward, in sport. Threw it out of the port, And so the thing turned out a failure. 28 VERSES WRITTEN DURING A A passenger on the New Yorh Was uncommonlj partial to pork, His knife was of use For collecting the juice, And he never ate peas with a fork. A man on the City of Sydney Was fond of a nice devilled kidney. Now, seeing each sheep But a couple can keep, He soon cleaned out the City of Sydney. June, 1883. AN ACROSTIC. Captain Webber. CAREFUL commander, genial man, the weary voyage througH, All hail ! thou gallant captain of a brave and gallant creW. Patient in hardship and in toil, in friendship staunch and truE, To thee the Poor box owes, I ween, full many a handsome suB, And in thy bathroom oft I've had a most delicious tuB. In games and sports athletic thou art ever to the forE, Nor strange is thy " fantastic toe " upon the dancing flooR. JuHE, 1883. TRIP ROUND THE WORLD. 29 THE GALLANT SKIPPER. Air—'' Golden Slippers." Written for the Complimentary Dinner to Captain Webber and Officers of the " Zealandia," by Ned Nettap. OH, our gallant Skipper lie has brought us through From the land of the rabbit and the kangaroo, Though the seas they roared and the winds they blew. On board of the good Zealandia. Now he's landed us upon the " golden shore," And too soon we'll see his merry face no more, But we'll sing again as we have sung before To the Skipper of the good Zealandia. Chokus. Oh, the gallant Skipper ! Oh, the gallant Skipper ! Henry Webber, a health to thee, a bumper toast we'll fiU. Oh, the gallant Skipper ! Oh, the gallant Skipper ! Henry Webber, a health to thee we'll drink with right good will. II. Oh, our gallant Skipper he is fond of chafP, And we love to listen to his merry laugh, So let every man of us a bumper quaff To the Skipper of the good Zealandia, 30 VERSES WRITTEN DURING A From tlie time we sailed from Auckland's port He was always foremost in every sport, And we wish there were many of the same old sort As the Skipper of the good Zealandia. Chorus. III. Then we'll toast him, boys, with a hearty cheer, For he knows no favor as he knows no fear ; And long may he prosper in his bright career As the Skipper of the good Zealandia. So with heart and sonl and with voices free. Try to crack your lungs along with me, And shout the chorus with three times tlu*ee For the Skipper of the good Zealandia. Chorus. Junk, 1883. yv/^-^i-v/N/v/vyxy^./ v/N^x-^ '■*y\y\r>,rt^r\riy\. YOKOHAMA AMATEUR REGATTA, October 2, 1882. Foiir-oared Race between representatives of the Tea, Silk, and Banking Interests. T> RIGHT was the day and keen the strife that -^ marked the great Regatta, My muse forgets the winners' nrcmcs— nor does it greatly matter ; TRIP ROUND THE WORLD. 31 For mine it is to sing tlie race, when forth the rival Three Stepped boldly, Yokohama's pride — the Silk, the Bank, the Tea. Black was the Silkmen's trusty boat that foremost braved the seas, While at her prow a Hank of Silk courted the ev'ning breeze. Next in the Bankers' azure bows floated a flash Bank- note — Or, rather, would have floated, but no note was there to float. Last in the Teamen's snow-white prow was set the fragrant plant, Dear to the pig-tailed Chinamen, dear to the maiden aunt. First to the starting-point there came the boat of sable hue. And up and spake the SUkman Chief unto his gallant crew : " Silkmen of Yokohama, best that ever sat in boat, To-day let men jouv sterling worth, your priceless value quote ; And, steersman, if to victory jon'd bear the flowing hank, Be sure to thread your way with skill and do not foul the Bank, Forget the ofiice desk, and careful writer though you be. Remember when you're right in ' front,' you must not cross the Tea" 32 VERSES WRITTEN DURING A Next to the starting-post there came the boat of azure tint, And up and spake the Banker Chief, with many a useful hint : "Steersman! mark well the rising wind, the current note," said he ; "Advance with caution, and make sure of good security. Preserve your balance, and maintain your credit safe and sound, That still your name may honoured be wherever banks are found ; And, Bankers bold, remember this, and struggle till you drop, Whate'er the checles that we receive, the Bank must never sfo^)." Then up and spake, with coimsel brief, the Captain of the Teamen : " Comrades, to-day you change yo\ir name — be bold and lusty Searneyi, Fill well your chests, and heed it not if men should call you green, For when the water boils around, your strength will soon be seen." Now at the post they sternly wait the signal for the fray; Then forth with straining oars they shoot — the Teamen lead the way. But soon on equal terms creeps up the Bankers' boat of blue, "While Silk is struggling in the rear, a length behind the two ; 77?/^ ROUND THE WORLD. 33 Now neck and neck they race amid tlie sliouts of all the throng, " Eyes in the boat ! " " You're gaining, Tea ! " " Well rowed, Bank ! Keep it long ! " And now the winning post is near, still neck and neck they speed, But slowly inch by inch the Tea is drawing out a lead Till, rowing gamely to the end, by dint of " stay " and strength. The Teamen catch the Judge's eye — a quarter of a length. And now the drooping hank of silk no longer proudly floats, And, all too confident before, the Bankers change their notes. While taunting speaks the Teaman chief : " Wliene'er you race with me. The prize can ne'er be yours, because the Pot is for the Tea." Ja-pan Gazette, October 4, 1882. On an Amateur Pkefobmanck of "A SCRAP OF PAPER," Yokohama, Sept. 30, 1882. 'rpiS said that certain dames of Yokohama, -*- Who love not di'ess, but quite adore the drama, To save expense, perhaps, or spite the draper, Appeared in public in " A Scrap of Paper " ! Eiogo News, November 2, 1882. 34 VERSES WRITTEN DURING A THE NEW YORK ELEVATED RAILWAY. The "L." npHERE once was a man wiio in life began In a somewhat liumble way ; But in ways that are dark he was amply schooled, And soon over railway Hnes he ruled, And he wasn't a man who was easily fooled, And his patronymic, I ween, was Gould, While his previous name was Jay. Now this artful man, he devised a plan, And the same to a friend revealed ; " A railway," said he, " I propose to lay, Through New York City — d'ye tumble, eh ? I think it's a pretty good thing," said Jay To Cyrus W. Field. " But how can we buy the ground ? " said Cy. ; The money how can we raise ? It's easy enough to lay our hand On tracts and tracts of the Western land, But New York City would hardly stand Such very ii-regular ways." " Why, no," said Jay ; " but I've found a way- Elevated our road shall be ; Right through the streets, but ever so high, So never a foot of the ground we'll buy." " Oh, that's a different thiag," said Cy., As he playfully winked his dexter eye ; " You're a pretty smart man, J. G," TRIP ROUND THE WORLD. 35 So they went to the Cor-poration for Authority signed and sealed ; And the City allowed them right away Their road thi-ough the principal streets to lay — For capitalists must have their way— And never a cent, did it make them pay " I told you how it would be," said Jay, To Cyrus W. Field. They didn't devise the entei-prise For personal gain or profit ; For millionaires and railroad kings So frequently do unselfish things For the pleasure a noble action brings. Though you wouldn't suspect them of it.. So now o'erhead, like a phantom dread. It broods over New York City ; And some people call it quite immense, Some talk of its great convenience — But nobody yet possessed of sense Has ventured to call it pretty. For over the street, some thirty feet. It spreads its gruesome pall ; And its hideous outlines darkly loom And make the Avenue like a tomb, Imparting a general sense of gloom Wherever its shadows fall. And its pillars are right in the driver's light As he nimbly speeds along ; And hence collisions and " jams '* ensue, 36 VERSES WRITTEN DURING A And struggles to force a passage througli, And personalities, not a few, From the hackman's lavish tongue. No words can tell how I loathe the " L," As if it were aspirated ; For the employes, as a rule, are rude, And the use of tobacco is quite tabooed (Unless it is put in the mouth and chewed) On board of the Elevated. And every time you must pay a dime — They'd charge you more if they could ; The conductors hurry the folks about ; They hustle you in and shove you out ; And as to the station— if you've a doubt — Tou can't distingtiish the names they shout, And they don't ijitend you shoi.ld. " And how does it pay ? " I asked of Jay ; " And does it a profit yield P " " Well, I should snigger ! " the Gould replied, By which remark (I am notified) A strong affii-mative is implied — And he laughed as he nudged the adjacent side Of Cyrus W. Field. The Judge, New York, December 1, 1883. ^\/~\^\j\y\^-\. TRIP ROUND THE WORLD. 37 THE ELEVATED RAILWAY. Dirqe oj a Sixth Avenue Householder. Ty UMBLE, rumble, i-aihvay car ! ■*-^ Strangers wonder wliat you are, Up above the street so high, Shuttmg out the light and sky. Rumble, rumble, railway car ! Yet you would be better far Underneath the ground so low ; There you'd not annoy me so. Elevated railway car, What a horrid bore you ai'e ! You allow the curious eye In my third-floor rooms to pry. Elevated railway car, What I most distinctly bar Is the nightly noise you make, Keeping me and mine awake. You provoke, O railway car, Phrases most irregular In the early watches, a.m.— Other times I never say 'em. Then the pillars under you Wholly spoil the Avenue ; Block the way, obstruct the traffic, Soui' the temper most seraphic. 38 VERSES WRITTEN DURING A They are also fraught with danger To the vmsuspecting stranger ; When to jump he takes a notion From a horse-car while in motion. Rumble, rumble, railway car ! Some day, with a nasty jar, Down into the street you'U tumble- Then you will no longer rumble. New York, November 20, 1883. SHERilfAN AND SHERIDAN. General Philip Sheridan succeeded General Sherman as General-in-Chief of the United States Armies, Nov., 1883. " Q AY, General, what do you contemplate ? ^ And what is the change to be P " I ventured to say to Phil one day ; And thus he replied to me : " Why, Sherman's methods are out of date. His notions are old, you see ; So the Army's about to tiu-n 'em (M) out, An d take up a new idee (ID)." New York, NovEsiBiiK 1, 1883. TRIP ROUND THE WORLD. 39 NIGHT THOUGHTS. A Sapphic Ode. TTTHEN more favoured mortals are wi-apped in slumber, Dreamily forgetfiil of care and cumber, Roimd my pillow hover in countless number, Beastly mosquitos. Chiefly when I'm feeling a trifle seedy Do I hear thy voice piping shrill and reedy ; If I could, how fain would I slaughter thee, de- tested mosquito ! " Hither, sweet-voiced minstrel, awhile, I pray thee, In mine outstretched hand for a moment lay thee ; Deem not I would foully deceive and slay thee. Foolish mosquito ! " Come ye all, dear friends, on my right cheek cast your Hungry eyes — you'll find it a juicy pasture ; Leave that dry old blanket, it's sui-ely nastier. Gentle mosquitos. " Wherefore linger ? Think ye, forsooth, I am a Gay deceiver telling an awful crammer ? Fear ye, lest this hand like a Nasmyth hammer Crush ye, mosquitos ? " 40 VERSES WRITTEN DURING A " ISidij" they sing, " but small are our wants, and therefore Such delights just now, Sir, we do not care for ; Juicy cheeks are far too recherche fare for Humble mosquitos. " And besides, it's well to be somewhat wary ; Therefore, though this blanket is di-y and hairy, Yet we deem it wholesome and salutary Food for mosquitos. " But we'll take a snack on jom- outstretched toes, if You do not object to oui- bite corrosive ; As for closer neighbourhood — not for Joseph ! " Say the mosquitos. Flocking to the feast with their buzzing tuneful, Of my vital fluid the brutes are soon full, And I'm losing blood by the table-spoonful, Drawn by mosquitos. On my inaccessible parts they light, and Fill their greedy carcases, nothing frightened By the distant threat of my vengeful right hand. Wily mosquito. On my face some venture when I am dozing, And my hand is cautiously on them closing, Till with one swift motion I smash— my nose, in- stead of mosquitos. So my rest by sundry remarks is broken. Some discreetly murmured, and some outspoken ; And the mildest fonn that they take is — " Oh, con- found the mosquitos ! " TRIP ROUND THE WORLD 41 He shall rank as one of the world's great teachers, Whoso shall checkmate the obnoxious creatui'es, And secure our nasal and other featui-es From the mosquitos. All in vain you fix up a stufEy ciirtain ; There are always some little holes, for certain. Through the which to squeeze doesn't even hm-t an Airy mosquito. Vain the fai'-famed powder of Mr. Keating, Which, the fleas all say, wants a lot of beatin'g ; Even it must take a distinct hack-seat in View of mosquitos. Wherefore were mosquitos at fii-st created, Only by mankind to be scorned and hated, And, as far as may be, annihilated ? Hapless mosquitos ! They are but productive of rage and passion And profanity, which is out of fashion, For a man will swear when he fails to smash an Artful mosquito. If that with the rattlesnake, wasp, and hornet, This ignoble insect had ne'er been bom, it Seems to me that no one would deeply mourn it, Friendless mosquito. Let it roam the realms of the non-essential, Or enjoy the sweetness of life potential ; So the f utui-e, happier stock of men shall Love the mosquito. In the Eockt Mountains, August 12, 1883. 42 PUBLISHED VERSES IPubUsbe^ Derses on Uarious Sublects* SKETCHES AT THE "INVENTORIES." TT7HAT a tei-rible crowd at South Kensington ^ ' Station ! Wlij, what in the world can have come to the nation P What pushing and squeezing ! What hurry and bustle ! How fiercely they struggle ! How madly they hustle ! Such rushing and crushing, such knocking and banging ; Such dashing and clashing, such shouting and slanging. As some clumsy wretch Jjlindly onward is borne, And plants a huge foot on his neighbour's pet corn. What a numberless throng ! it would almost appear As if all the people in London were here ; Such crowds have assembled from east and from west — One is tempted to ask oneself, " Where are the rest ? " — They gather from every point of the compass, And raise all together a terrible " rumpus." A stream of himianity onward they go, For this is the great Opening Day of the Show. And I with the others am fighting my way, And pushing ahead in the thick of the fray. But thanking my stars, as I struggle along, That Nature has fashioned me sturdy and strong. For I have a very particular mission On the Opening Day of the great Exhibition ; ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 43 No idle spectator to see the Inventions, I go "witli much liigher and gi'eater intentions. To tell you the truth, I am here with a view Of describing the whole thing, dear reader, to you ! I refrain from comparing the relative claims Of the three Exhibitions with curious names ; They christened the " Fisheries " that which came first, And no one would venture to call it the worst. In the year '83 it was clearly the best, For Time had not yet given birth to the rest. Then, second in order, the " Healtheries " came. With a borrowed, but very felicitous name. And though in the order of time it was second, Yet second to none it was properly reckoned. And now by one more is the number increased, And we've come to the third, which is last, but not least. Let us hope, of the three Exhibitions, the latest Will be known — till next year — as the best and the greatest ; The thought and experience and labour of centuries All gathered together and called the " Inventories ! " Thus Fate by a strange and most happy decree Has allotted one common sui-name to the thi'ee ; So a right noble family they shall be styled, And as each coming year brings another new child, We shall try by the aid of ingenious speech An appropriate name to discover for each ; And no matter how many there be, they shall claim A right to the use of the family name. You come to the entrance, and there you must wait. And striTggle to keep in the line for the gate. 44 PUBLISHED VERSES At last when you're lucky enough to get through, A mass of bright fiow'rs and sweet plants meet your view; And there in the midst an equestrian statue, That seems to look fiercely and haughtily at you. We'll leave the proud horseman to stare at the rest, While we hurriedly pass through the halls to the west. We come to the street of Old London at last, As it was, more than two hundred years in the past, Before the Great Fire swept Old London away, To make room for the London we look on to-day. How strange in the quaint little street, as you stand. That seemed to oiu" forefathers spacious and grand ! So crooked and jutting, so narrow and small — However could people have got on at all ? Yes, there are the shops and the houses of wood — They stand just as once in Old London they stood. And there are the 'prentices, just as of yore, In the very same dresses they formerly wore. But what are they working with ? Are those the tools That were used in the days before Steam and Board Schools ? And what are they saying P Is that the quaint tongue That was spoken in London when Milton was young P Oh, if from his grave we could stealthily raise Some craftsman or 'prentice of those ancient days. And, still in his sleep, bring liim carefully down To the great Exhibition in Kensington Town, Set him right in the midst of "Ye Olde London Streete," And suddenly wake him — it wotild be a treat ! How the good man in stupid amazement would stare, And wonder if 'twas but a horrid nightmare ! ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 45 How he'd gaze at tlie busy, bewildering scene, At the 'prentices working the latest machine ! How he'd prick up his ears at their Cockneyfied twang In the newest and choicest edition of slang ! And how he would stare, if he lingered till night, At the street all ablaze with the Edison light ! But noon is approaching, and so we must go ; For the Prince will be coming to open the Show. Yes, there in the entrance-hall distantly loom The officials rejoicing in plenty of room ; The Executive Council we envy so greatly, The Foreign Commissioners haughty and stately. But we are poor nobodies out in the cold. And meekly and himibly must do as we're told By a few big policemen so fussy and proud Of their short-lived authority over the crowd. They jam us together — a i-egular squeeze — And then they expect us to " pass along, please " ! But, see! here's the Prince with his good-humoured face — The type of oui* true British manhood and grace ; And not much resembling his statue up there, Wliich gazes at him with the same haughty stare. And there's the Princess, with the sweet sunny smile, That won many a heart in the Emerald Isle ! Sir Frederick Bramwell now reads the address, Which every one thinks a decided success. And the Prince makes a speech in his hajjpiest way, And declares the Show open to all men to-day. But if I don't hurry I'll never be done, For I haven't yet told you a tenth of the fun ; 46 PUBLISHED VERSES The "Milkeries," " Hatteries," " Tailories," "Boot- eries," The " Glasseries," "Potteries," '-Cutleries," "Shoot- eries," The " Indiambberies," " Printeries " — all The departments, in short, of this wonderful Hall. See, there is the Welsh girl, whose work never fails. In the cui'ious dress that finds favour in Wales ; And her hat ! If a candle you want to extinguish, Tou couldn't, I'm sure, for a handier thing wish ! And there are the guns, both for land and for water. That men have invented to simplify slaughter ; The patent machine-guns of these latter days, That kill you in dozens of different ways. Such an ugly collection ! You think the whole place In a minute or so will be blown into space. But I f eai- that you'll never have patience to read If I scribble much longer ; so now we'll proceed To the dining-room, where you're substantially fed At the moderate figui-e of sixpence a-head. Then we pay to the Aylesbm-y Dairy a visit. And di-ink some fresh milk, and on asking, "What is it ? " We're puzzled to find that there's nothing to pay, For they tell you, "We're making no charge, sir, to day." And then, before leaving, we'U just take oiu- stand In the gardens, and listen awhile to the band. What beautiful music ! Hallo ! What is that ? Why, it's raining, and I've got a brand-new top-hat. We must rush under cover, and yield to the weather, For music and rain don't go nicely together. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS, 47 And now, gentle reader, I tMnk it is time To shut up the ink-pot and finish my rhyme. " I've had quite enough of this doggerel," you cry, And to tell you the plain honest truth, so have I ; So I'll make no apology now, for I know Tou don't want to hear any more of the Show ; And I'm certain you'll be rather pleased than irate, if I've Done with the great Exhibition of '85 ! T/ie Family Circle, May, 1885. THE COLONIES. rP' HE fourth Exhibition is one that we know ■*- As the " Colonies " — so men have christened the show. And for weal or for woe, By that name it must go. I'm aware Mr. Punch wants it called the " Colindei-ies," But one thing, that e'en M7\ Punch cannot hinder, is People just calling the show what they please, The name that's pronounced with the greatest of ease. We enter the gi'oimds by the eastern door — A place where we've frequently been before — Then we turn to the right, And start with afcight At the great hunting trophy revealed to sight. Let us pause ere we pass, And look thi'ough the glass, 48 PUBLISHED VERSES Where the tigers crouch in the jungle-grass ; Where the leopard, the bear, and the panther roam, And appear on the whole to be quite at home ; And see over yonder A huge anaconda, That seems on its next little meal to ponder. And other big snakes in the forks of the trees, Looking quite at their ease And ready to seize The passing stranger and calmly squeeze The life from his body by slow degrees. And here in the front Is a tiger-hunt, To the " Colonies " specially sent from afar By His Highness the Rajah of Kooch Behar. Who wouldn't be willing To put down a shilling To witness a tiger-hunt — mimis the killing ? The elephant's there With his trunk in the air, And there's really no knowing How loud he is blowing His trumpet in rage, or, it may be, despair. Of course he's entitled to feel in a funk When the teeth of a tiger are tight in his trunk ; It must really be horrid To feel in your forehead Two powerful jaws And a handful of claws ; If he kicks up a row, then, it's not withoiit cause. It's certainly lucky for him that his hide Has nothing but stuffing and sawdust innide ; So it doesn't quite hurt him so much as it would Jf the stuffing were flesh, and the sawdust were blood, ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 49 Let us hope in the end that the poor beast tosses His enemy dread Right over his head With a mighty sweep of his huge proboscis, To the Indian section, If you've no objection, We'll pass and examine the fine collection ; Where the products of art From every part Are neatly arranged to be easily seen, Each district behind its appropriate screen. Bombay and Baroda, Cashmere and Bengal, Lucknow and Benares, Assam and ISTepaul, Karauli, Jeypore, Madras and Mysore, Coorg, Hyderabad, and a great many more. There are muslins and silks from Orissa and Dacca, While Hyderabad sends us " bidri " and lacquer ; There's marble inlaid, That at Agra is made, And quite on a par is The brass from Benares ; There are shawls from Cashmere Most awfully dear, And beetle-wing muslins that look very queer ; There are bangles and earrings and rings for the nose, And rings for the fingers, and rings for the toes ; There are carvings in ivory, metal, and wood — But to try and enumerate all is no good. Suffice it to say That the wondrous display, Examined in merely a cui'sory way. Will take you at least the best part of a day. 4 50 PUBLISHED VERSES We pass tlirougli the Indian Palace, a place Where there's little of furniture, plenty of space. In quaint little shops round the spacious courtyard, The natives are working — apparently hard ; There are goldsmiths and silversmiths, cai-vers, engravers, And dyers, productive of horrible savours, And four little boys weaving carpets, who drone A queer sort of song in a queer sort of tone : It may be to help them to lay the threads straight, or Perhaps just to humom- the British spectator. We go through the archv,-ay presented by Scindiah, And so with reluctance bid farewell to India. Then on through Old London, deserted and bare ; For the curious workshops no longer are there ; And so to the Cape, Where we stand agape To see how a diamond's knocked into shape. And here is the mine Of the Bultfontein, An elegant model of clever design, With a railway of wire down a steepish incline. It can hardly be jolly To sit in a trolly And whisk through the air on a sleeperless line ! At least it's a trip I should fii-mly decline. Here they wash the " blue earth " To see what it's worth, And of diamonds somehow there's never a dearth, Which suggests an old saw to the sceptical mind : " For him who has hidden, it's easy to find." Far be it from me To assert that you see ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 51 More jewels than Natm-e intended to be ; But still there are found To be lying around Sucli a number of stones in that dirty " blue gi'ound," That it really might make one suspect for a minute That they first of all bury the diamonds in it, That the " blue ground," in fact, Has been carefully " packed," Or " salted," I should say, to be more exact. At any rate when you in- Quire if it's genuine, Every one tells you it's quite bond fide, And so says the threepenny guide-book, quod vide. Be that as it may, I have only to say, You may see the blue clay — Nothing extra to pay — And the men in a thoroughly business-like way Just chui-ning out diamonds every day. Hard by is the place. In a great glass case. Where they cut and polish the stones apace, On a circular plate, Which revolves at a rate That I really am almost afraid to state : I believe I'm correct when I say that it's reckoned To make twenty-fom- revolutions a second. Of natives too You may see a few, Great muscular creatures of dusky hue. Just look at that fellow as dark as pitch, A Zulu or Kaflar— I don't know which— Ai-rayed in a blanket, a curious whim. And an old straw hat with a wonderful brim — 52 PUBLISHED VERSES It must have been specially made for him — And a wholly inadequate crown a-top, That yon never yet saw in an English shop ; You can hardly call It a crown at all, For the size of his head's so absurdly small. We pass by New Zealand, alas ! for the hour is Too late for inspecting the land of the Maoris ; But we peep at a few Of the portraits on view Of chiefs with their faces of curious hue ; For the higher their station, the more they tattoo — Perhaps as a sign that their blood is so blue. As we enter Australia, lo and behold ! An archway of gold, Imposing and bold, Though if you imagine it's real, you're sold. Gold, gold. Riches untold. And all from a country just fifty years old : Nuggets and quartz, Gold of all sorts, Some of it just as it leaves the retorts. Gold, gold, Nothing but gold, All that the stores of Dame Nature enfold Before us in lavish profusion is rolled. And there is a real native hut, that was boiight (For a very diminutive sum it is thought) From a genuine bushman, and hither was brought ; And with it are figures so skilfi;lly wrought, A man and his wife. So exactly like life, ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 53 That if you don't look at them close you'll be caught. The wife has a baby Abaft of her shoulder, A year old it may be, Or possibly older ; The man holds a boomerang ready to tkrow, And because of the heat His attii-e's incomplete And rather adapted for comfort than show. But our time is run out : We must turn right about ; Though we haven't seen aU, there is no sort of doubt That the sights we have missed we must e'en go without. But if this of South Kensington shows is the last, Although I've no wish for a moment to cast A slur on the rest, Yet it must be confessed. Of the four Exhibitions the last is the best, r/ie Family Circle, July, 1886. THE EGG MACHINE. [Published with Twenty-one IHustrations.] rXlHERE once was a man, as I've heard it said, ■^ In a humble walk of life, Who worked, as he might, for his daily bread Unencumbered by child or wife. His nature was crafty, his heart was hard, And he kept a few fowls in a small back-yard. 54 PUBLISHED VERSES But his hens wouldn't lay, and his lot was sad, For with poverty he was stricken ; So as food was scarce and the times were bad, He was forced to subsist on chicken. They wouldn't supply him with eggs to eat, So he fed upon tliem — which indeed was med. Till only one mate for the lordly male, One only was left alive ; And she strutted about with her haughty tail At an angle of ninety-five. For she was no chicken of low degree, A thoroiigh-bred Hamburgh hen was she. The very perfection she stood confessed Of gallinaceous beauty ; And strange to relate it — this hen possessed A remarkable sense of duty. She felt she was morally bound to lay An egg for her master every day. Yet he thought that she didn't lay eggs enough: He coveted more, this man. It really would seem to be rather rough On a hen who does all she can. But his nature was crafty, his heart was hard; And he mused as he walked in his small back-yard. TiU at length this ingenious-minded man. In the solitude of his hovel, Evolved from his masterly brain a plan Which at least was extremely novel. " I'U have eggs for my breakfast, I trow," said he, " And eggs for my dinner, and eggs for tea." ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 55 So he went and got him an old tea-chest For the guileless hen to lay in ; And made her a nice little cosy nest By putting a wisp of hay in ; And underneath in the treacherous floor He fixed a diminutive spring trap-door ! And the good hen went to her nest so smart To deposit her daily dole ; And she rose from her task with a thankful heart And an unsuspecting soul. She carefully lifted each dainty leg So as not to disturb the new-laid egg. Then she raised on high a triumphant skriek, The note of maternal pride — But suddenly on her parted beak The exulting paean died. For glancing back she became aware Of the startling fact that the nest was bare. She peered into every nook and hole In ten-ible pei-turbation ; Till she thought she had been the dupe (poor soul !) Of a strange hallucination. " "Well, it only shows," she remarked, relieved, " How easily people may be deceived." So she sate her down, to her duty true, And another she laid with care, And eagerly turned the result to view. But alas ! no egg was there ! " Well, I never ! " exclaimed the bewildered hen, " I could almost have sworn that I laid one then." 56 PUBLISHED VERSES " Am I awake P " — and she pecked her leg — " Or is it a horrid dream ? " 'Tis a night-mare's nest, for it holds no egg ; " And things are not what they seem." So musing vaguely she laid a third ; For she was a conscientious bird. But when a quick backward glance revealed The tenantless nest to sight, Her brain grew dizzy, her senses reeled, Her feathers stood bolt upright, A reckless frenzy inflamed her breast, And she laid and laid like a hen possessed. And her crafty owner was soon content : His pitiless greed was sated ; So he fastened the little trap-door, and went Away to his house elated. " I've eggs for my breakfast enough," said he, " And eggs for my dinner, and eggs for tea." But the good hen turned with a weary glance. And there was an egg at last ! And she woke, as it were, from a painful trance, And a cloud from her vision passed. " Why, I've been dreaming, I do declare, The whole of the time I've been sitting there ! " Then she went to her mate, and she told her tale In a voice with emotion weak ; But just like an unsympathetic male He laughed in her very beak. He chuckled and crowed, and remarked, " I fear " You're going clean off yom- head, my dear." ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 67 Now this crafty man had his wits all there ; His talents were only latent ; So he washed his face, and he brushed his hair, And went and took out a patent. Then he bought a frock-coat and a white top hat And some fancy pants and a silk cravat. He formed a company there and then, And he was the chairman of it ; And all the directors were well-known men. And they made an enormous profit. They traded on a gigantic scale, And paid their dividends on the nail. And ev'ry one blessed the inventor's name — " What a wonderful man he is ! " — For eggs in a very short tim.e became As plenty as blackberries. And the people feasted and made good cheer — But the hens had a pretty bad time, I fear. And if you would know how the thing is done You must go to the Exhibition, That's now being holden in Kensington ; For there, in a good position, At the gi-eat " Inventories " may be seen The Patent Perennial Egg Machine ! October, 1884. 58 PUBLISHED VERSES A DEAD SECRET. A S wise a man as ever stepped, -^^ Laid down tliis golden rule of life : That if you want a secret kept, You musn't tell it to your wife. For I'm informed that women who Have heard a secret seem to langxaish For somebody to tell it to ; And, till it's told, they suffer anguish. I speak fi'om hearsay, I may state, It isn't in my line, for I Was bom and bred a celibate. And such I'm pretty sure to die. But Providence, to make amends For lack of children and of wife. Has blessed me with two faithful friends. To cheer my lonely path through life. If what the poet says is true. Of all the gifts of heaven the best is A friend who'll always stick to you — Play Pylades to youi" Orestes. Who'll back your bills with faith serene ; Nor hesitate to put his name on, As Pythias, if biUs had been Invented, would have done for Damon. For such a friend in years long past I vainly hunted up down. Until I came across, at last. The man I sought in William Brown. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 59 The cloBest friends were Brown and I, But fearing lest our own society Should bore us, I resolved to try A third companion for variety. And now, I ween, in all the town If there's a soul my spii-it owns As dear to me as William Brown, That soul belongs to Thomas Jones, Three jovial bachelors are we, And I believe, from here to Rio, Search where you may, by land or sea. You'll hardly find a jollier trio. What cosy dinners we have had ! Wliat glorious evenings passed together On such occasions, I may add, We rarely talk about the weather. And in expansive moments I Have sometimes made a rash confession ; But each declared I might rely Upon his absolute discretion. And if I doubted, they were pained : On secrecy themselves they prided, And on that subject entertained A greater confidence than I did. * * * * * One morning as I sat me down. And o'er The Times began to pore, I saw the form of William Brown Serenely sauntering to my door. 60 PUBLISHED VERSES " Good mornmg, Sinitli ! " said he ; " I've got Upon my hands an hour or two, And thought I might as well as not Drop in and pass the time with you." " I'm glad to see you, Brown," I cried. " Sit down ; and now that you are here, A something bids me to confide A secret in your private ear. *' A secret. Brown, that none suspects : I found it out the other day ; A thing that seriously affects The character of Mrs. A . " I kept it locked within my breast Until it fairly tortured me. At last myself I thus addressed : ' You must confide in William B.' " But, William, you must pledge your word. And swear it by youi" father's bones, You'll ne'er disclose what you have heard, Not even unto Thomas Jones." " My friend, you know me," answered Brown ; " Discretion is my leading feature. And I would rather hang or drown Than breathe it to a living creature. " And as to Jones, 'twixt you and me, There's not a better fellow living ; But as regards his secrecy I've always had a slight misgiviug." ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS, 61 " Enough ! " said I ; " my course is clear." And thereupon, without delay, I pour into his startled ear The scandal touching Mrs. A . I noticed when my tale was done, That Brown grew restless more and more ; I saw him ever and anon Cast furtive glances at the door. A silence, too, upon him fell ; An anxious look obscured his brow. At last he rose, remarking, " Well, I think I must be toddling now." " Why, BroTvn, I really must object; You came to spend an hour or two." " All, yes ; but now I recollect I've got some pressing things to do." My arguments were all in vain : Remonstrance only made him firmer. He went, and I began again The latest telegrams from Burmah. In half an hour or so, once more I heard the bell's distracting tones, And Susan at my study door Appeared announcing, " Mr. Jones." His breath was qviick, his colour high. His speech abrupt, his manner flurried ; And to the least observant eye "Jwas evident that Jones had hurried. 62 PUBLISHED VERSES " So glad to find you in," he cried, " I've almost walked myself to death." And to his forehead he applied His handkerchief, and gasped for breath. " Be calm," I said. " Advancing years Take youthful strength and vigoui* from us : You've walked too fast ; your frame appears Exhausted — pray be seated, Thomas." Then when his breathing grew more clear, Said he, " My flun-y you'll excuse When you have heard what's brought me here : I've come to tell you stai-tling news. " I know that you'll be sorely grieved, And it's a tale you'll hardly credit, A thins: I'd never have believed If anybody else had said it. " But my informant's one who knows, I can't divulge his name of coui-se ; But this I ventiu'c to depose — I have it from the highest soui-ce. " He bound me down to secrecy ; And most emphatically, too (I can't think why), he cautioned me Against disclosing it to you. " But really it can make no odds To tell it you, my oldest friend ; But you must swear, by all your gods. To keep the secret to the end. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 63 " You mustn't tell a soul in town, And even Bro^"v^l is not exempted : I don't know wliy I mentioned Brown — I thouglit perhaps you miglit be tempted." " Tliomas, I am your friend," I said ; " And I am worthy of the title ; I shall be silent as the dead : Proceed, then, with the dire recital." Then o'er my listening ear he bent. And told in a mysterious way— But not without embellishment — The scandal touching Mrs. A . The very tale I'd told to Brown, When he by all his father's bones Had sworn that he woiild rather di*own Than tell it even unto J ones ! As for the tale, I'U now admit, 'Twas what the vulgar call a " sell," For I myself invented it As Brown was ringing at the bell. T/ie Christian World Magazine, Januaey, 1887. \ ^\_f\ --,_/-. fN ry /-v ^ ^ 64 PUBLISHED VERSES WHEN DO PEOPLE MARRY? rnHE following figures, extracted by the Economist -^ from tlae Registrar-G found of great interest : — -^ from tlae Registrar-General's last return, will be Marriage Ages of Bachelors in Different Occupations, 1S84-5. Miners 23.56 Textile bands 23.88 Shoemakers and tailors 24.42 Artisans 24.85 Labourers 25.06 Commercial clerks ... 25.75 Sbopkeepers, shopmen 26.17 Farmers and sons ... 28.73 Profession and inde- pendent class ... 30.72 A GIRL'S GRIEVANCE. I HEAR the wedding bells that chime From chapel, church and minster ; But what are they to me, when I'm A miserable spinster ? My face, they say, is passing fair, My figure most majestic; My tastes and habits always were Decidedly domestic. And I have been engaged a year ; Of money we have plenty ; But Harry is an engineer. And only four-and-twenty ! So we must wait — but not because We want the will to marry ; But certain economic laws Condemn us thus to tarry. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 65 The reason why we wait, in short, Is one I've scarcely hinted ; It's in the Forty-eighth Report The Registrar has printed. Though written by a kindly man, The good Sir Brydges Henniker, To me it's far more tragic than The tragedies of Seneca. For there, upon a certain page, In largest pica leaded, Statistics show the proper age At which good folks are wedded. The strange connection you'll descry That great things have with small things ; For marriages are govern'd by The exipovt trade — of all things. At twenty-three the miner is At libei-ty to marry ; The hands employed in factories Till twenty-four must tarry ; The tailor, too, and cobbler wait Till f om--and-twenty summers ; This likewise is the time to mate For carpenters and plumbers. At five-and-twenty clerks essay Connubial relations ; The counter-jumper needs must stay Till twenty- six in patience. e6 PUBLISHED VERSES Tlie farmer two more years — poor thing !- A bachelor must linger ; At twenty-eight he buys the ring For his intended's finger. But there's a still more luckless crew ; For sad beyond expression Is their unhappy fortune who Belong to a profession. They must be thii-ty years before Their wedding bells may jingle ; And Harry's only twenty-four ! Six years he'll still be single. Oh, would he were a miner bold, However black and du-ty ! For I shall be so very old Before he reaches thii-ty. Why can't the export trade be changed ? It's such an awful pity : The thing could siu-ely be arranged By people in the City. O Registrar, most wise and great. It's hard on me and Harry, For we shall have so long to wait Before our time to marry. 'Tis true, Sir Brydges Henniker, "We're powerless as midges ; But canH you make it earlier. Sir Brydges, O Sir Brydges ? Truth, February 17, 1887. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 67 THE ANTI-LUCIFER MATCH. ■jl/TESSRS. SULFER and WHACKS of ±tX Fenclim-cli Street, Had a frontage of twenty or thirty feet, And an office well known to fame, Ajid a factory down by the London Docks, Where they made theii- matches, and every box Had Sulfer and Whacks's name. Messrs. Sulfer and Whacks paid income-tax On several thousands yearly ; But business was not what it once had been, For competition was fierce and keen. And the prospect anything but serene. And Sulfer and Whacks long ago had seen That matters were looking queerly. Now it happened one day when trade was fiat. As Sulfer and Whacks in their office sat Digesting their mid-day snacks, That a clerk announced, " There's a man below. Who's got an invention he wants to show To the head of the firm, and declines to go." " Well, let him come in," said Whacks. A wizened and weird little man appeared. With a dirty face, and a fortnight's beard On a sharp protruding chin ; And first having carefully shut the door, His hat he deposited on the floor. And produced from his pocket about a score (There might be less, and there might be more) Of match-boxes all of tin. 68 PUBLISHED VERSES He passed them across vfith a careless toss, To the partners twain, in batches, Then di'ew himself up, and with lots of cheek, In a voice that was very much like the creak Of a rusty hinge, he began to speak, As if he'd been sUent for quite a week : " I think you'll agree that this thing's unique In the way of a box for matches. " P'r'aps, gentlemen, you remember when, With a flint and steel and tinder, They used to beguile the tedious hom-s, And waste their tissue and vital powers — Theii" time was worth much less than oui's — While the fire descended in reckless showers With nothing on earth to hinder The sparks, which flew about left and right. From simply setting the house alight, And reducing the place to a cinder. " And many deplored the woful waste Of time and energy so misplaced, Till the difficulty was boldly faced By a man with a scientific taste, Who the old-fashioned flint and steel replaced By a thing that was less uncertain. Now this was a lucifer, made from the juicy fir, Still it was likely to play the deuce, if a Head should detach itself from the match, And frolicking off at a tangent, catch A neighbouring dress or curtain. " So one of a well-known firm one day — I can't quite say whether Bryant or May — From fire to afford protection. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 69 Invented a match that would only ignite On the box — and not always on that, despite The frequent injunction to vuh them light — But anyhow this, you'll agree, was quite A step in the right direction. " But, it's not — to quote Cicero — quantum suff, I mean that they didn't go far enough, And that's why I reprobate 'em. Theii" principle's good without a doubt. As far as it goes, but to work it out, With a will that's firm, and a heart that's stout. Is the great desideratum. " Now I've brought the principle to matm-ity : More security for futurity — That is my plan in its simple purity. That's what my heart desires. But he who would compass this end must pause, And make a study of natiu-e's laws. And he'll see what catastrophes matches cause, By simply referring to Captain Shaw's Repoi-ts of our London fires. " And now you'll allow me, with all dispatch. To explain the chief points of my patent match With diffidence and humility ; You see I begin by packing them in A non-inflammable box of tin, Which renders an accident akin To a moral impossibility. " I know my invention will simply floor Both Bryant and May and the " Tandstick6r,' 70 PUBLISHED VERSES Thougli they're ' uian svafvel ochfosfor' "Whicli, I take it, is Scandinavian for ' Without either sidphui* or phosphorus.' I must say, by the way, that when foreigners send Their wares over here, they should condescend To a tongue that their customers comprehend ; At least at the end they might append A something by way of a gloss for us. " Now the regular lucifer heads will fly, But with mine yoiu* efforts I can defy ; All day and all night you may freely try : They won't come off, and I'll tell you why — No HEAD TO THE MATCH ATTACHES ! They simply consist, as all matches should, Of nothing but good substantial wood ; So their name will be readily understood — The ' Anti-Lucifer Matches.' " Messrs. Bryant and May have had their day. For though their notion, I'm bound to say. Was highly commendable in its way, Mine's happier, simpler, newer ; For with mine it is immaterial quite How hard you rub 'em : they won't ignite On the box, or anywhere else — you might As well endeavour to coax a light From the end of a wooden skewer. " So now I am anxious to come to terms With one of the leading London firms. And it's my belief sincerely, That if you adopt it, your fortime's made, For the match will do an enormous trade, The danger from lire will be quite allayed, ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 71 And soon it will hardly be gainsaid That the Metropolitan Fire Brigade Is ornamental merely." He ceased, and the partners answered thus : " Torn* idea most excellent seems to us : The matter you ably handle ; But what we have hitherto failed to catch Is, how you propose, with a headless match, To light your bedroom candle." The confident look of pride forsook The inventor's face : with a hand that shook He picked up his battered hat ; He simply ejaculated " Eh ? " And made for the door without delay In a limp condition : he did not stay To collect his boxes or say " Good-day ! " But they heard him remark, as he stole away, " Why didn't I think of that ? " The Christian World Magazine, March, 1887. THE "RATIONAL DRESS" CRUSADE. By an Unprejudiced Male. rpHE Town Hall of Westminster never, I ween, -■- Looked down on so strange and impressive a scene, As when the apostles of Rational Dress Convened a great meeting of ladies, to press Their views on their suffering down-trodden sisters — Excluding, of course, the irrational Misters. 72 PUBLISHED VERSES A lady of rank in tlie chair was installed — The " chairwoman " properly she should be called, But the epithet might Be considered a slight On so noble a dame ; yet how else it were right To describe her is not very clear at first sight. Then her ladyship rose, With an au' of repose, To dilate on the biu'dens, oppressions, and woes That harass and vex Her unfortunate sex From the very beginning of life to its close ; And this is about what she uttered — in prose : " From the day of our birth " We are victims of Worth " And fashion, the cruellest tyrant on earth, " They jealously watch o'er the feminine baby, •' And eagerly seize it as early as may be, " Sxibject it to all kinds of torments (the brutes ! ) " And very soon force it " To put on a corset, " A tight-fitting bodice, and narrow-heeled boots, " While the men see the tortui-e, but, like Mr. Toots, «' Say that's ' of no consequence,' if the thing suits. " But what I am chiefly concerned to subvert " Is the wearisome load of the vile modern skirt. " Oh, how can I sxun up the skii-t of the period ? '• Advantages nil — disadvantages myi-iad ! " It hangs like a cii'cle of lead on the hips, " Into all of the puddles it carefully dips, " It prevents the free play " Of our limbs day by day, '' And its hurrying owner it constantly trips; ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 73 " Yes, for injm-ing health and for gathering dirt " And impeding all movement, I boldly assert " That nought can compare with it — " Wliy do we bear with it ? " Skirt of the Period, horrible Skirt ! " To conclude my addi'ess, " I desire to impress " The fact that oui- notions are quite a success " Both for beauty and comfort, as all will confess, " When they see some examples of Rational Dress." So saying her ladyship gave a direction, And lo ! at her bidding a goodly selection Of ladies descended The platform and wended Among the assembly for closer inspection ; And all, like the lady herself who presided, "Wore different forms of the sku-t that's divided. Some seemed quite at ease In a costume Chinese, Some were dressed for the mountains and some for the seas, And some for the parallel bars and trapeze ; In fact, 'twas a Rational " Go-as-you-please " ! And every one voted the thing a success — But they didn't all vow to wear Rational Dress. Now, whether the skirt should be severed or whole Is not altogether for them to control ; For women, in spite of her ladyship's cries, Have a certain regard for our masculine eyes. And they'll wear such attire As the men will admire ; They'll submit to discomfort, but won't appear " guys." 74 PUBLISHED VERSES It may be, indeed, wlien witli ladies we mingle We see (so they say) " Dual dresses " eacli day, And think in our innocent hearts they are single. And if it is true That to common folks' view The difference can't be discerned 'twirt the two, I don't see the ground of objection — do you ? But it's surely their own fault if ladies of wealth Wear di-esses too heavy for comfort or health. There's a time-honoured proverb that none can impugn : " ffe who pays for the piper can call for the tune ; " And the ladies, at least. Can compel the modiste To see that the weight of their skii'ts is decreased — That is, if they do not object to be " fleeced." They can cut down the measure of fluting and frilling, And plaiting and quilting, provided they're willing To pay what they're asked to the uttermost shilling. And for her who's obliged to be saving of pelf, The remedy's simple — to make it herself. But there's one thing that sensible women and men Can join in reforming by deed, voice, and pen; To wit, when with fingers all aching and sore, Or eke with the help of her maids, one or more, A young lady pinches To seventeen inches A waist that Dame Nature has made twenty-four. The hour-glass she takes for her model, forgetting That kinship it owns With the skull and cross-bones. The moral of which would be rather upsetting. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 75 If, leaving the question of flounces and trains, The ladies to this will devote all their pains, We may hope that the Fashion '11 Yield to what's rational — That is to say, to what Nature ordains. And there's one other point that we cannot but mention, A matter well worthy of ladies' attention, And that is their fashion of evening costume, In which for improvement there's plenty of room. While the Rational Dress Propaganda say " Less " For the skirt's heavy burden demanding redress, ffere Modesty, Reason, Health, Beauty, all four, Are always, like Oliver, " asking for move ! " The Christian World Magazine, April, 1887. \ />/%•> yv/x/^yv' • DR. BROWN'S FIRST PATIENT. rPHE Lady Mary Yandeleur -■- Was fifty-seven and a fraction ; She might be faiidy called matiu-e, And rather wanting in attraction. But how much better than the bloom Of youth, a house in Eaton Square is ! And no Belgravia di-awing-room Was crowded more than Lady Mary's. And then, besides the rank and birth, Whereafter every wordling hankers, She had the noblest thing on earth — A handsome balance at her banker's. 76 PUBLISHED VERSES She drove about tlie park each day ; Went always twice to Chvircli on Sunday, And worshipped in the strictest way The sainted shrine of Mrs. Grundy. In fact she was in all respects The very model of propriety ; As one must be whom fate selects To be a leader of society. Now, as declining years slip by (Poor creatures we of circumstances !) We seem to be — I don't know why — More liable to morbid fancies. And though no race was e'er more pure, No blood more blue than Lady Mary's, The bluest blood is not secui-e From human failings and vagaries. One morn, as she began to sip Her tea with due deliberation, Quite suddenly her ladyship Was conscious of an odd sensation. It felt as if a wandering hau-, Or eke a bone from last night's mullet, Or bristle from her tooth-brush, were Securely lodged within her gullet. First back, then forward, went her head, She coughed and choked and gulped and swallowed. Took pints of water, poimds of bread, But no result to speak of followed. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 77 Tlien Lady Mary sent a note In haste to summon her physician, For even now she felt her throat Incapable of deglutition. Sir Joseph came at her command, And made a careful diagnosis, And. seeing nought, prescribed off-hand The most innocuous of doses. The Lady Mary carried through The doctor's orders to the letter ; Did everything she ought to do, But never felt the least bit better. Then, seeing that the doctor's plan Had no effect upon the bristle. She swore — as near as ladies can — Sir Joseph for his fee should whistle. She summoned, then, another leech, Who, having used his best endeavour, Remarked — for he was brief of speech — " There's nothing in your throat whatever." Her ladyship, when she was vexed, Was not accustomed to conceal it : " You say there's nothing there ! What next ! When I have told you I can/ee? it ! " You dare to doubt a lady's word ! " — Her ladyship was gi-owing hoarser — " Such insolence was never heard. Why, what on eai-th d'ye take me for, Sir ? " 78 PUBLISHED VERSES Tte doctor simply took his hat, And left, remarkLng in conclusion, " Of course you think it's there ; but that, I tell you, is a mere delusion." Then all the great M.D.s were brought, And closely o'er her lips did hover. But none of them discovered aught — For there was nothing to discover. Now, in a humble part of Town There lived, or rather vegetated, A youth, by name Leander Brown ; " M.D." his door-plate indicated. Although behind-hand in the race, For he was brainless as a gander, When told of Lady Mary's case, A brilliant notion struck Leander. So to her ladyship he wrote. Requesting leave to call upon her, And undertook to cure her throat, If she would let him have that honour. The Lady Mary Yandeleur Was now in such a sad condition, She welcomed any chance of cure, And gave him the required permission. And when he read, " To-day at two," Leander cut a mental caper ; Then from his tooth-brush deftly di-ew A bristle, which he wrapped in paper. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 79 His case of instniraents in hand, He called at the appointed hour ; With seeming care the thi'oat he scanned, And used a glass of extra power. " Why, there, of coni-se ! " Leander cried, " It's plain enough to see what's in it ; Just keep the mouth, please, open wide. And I'll extract it in a minute.' . 55 His bristle then he placed with speed Between the tweezers, hid from view ; Just scratched the throat to make it bleed. Then forth the blood-stained bristle drew. " A bristle from my tooth-brush ! That's Jtist what I said," cried Lady Mary ; " And yet those doctors, blind as bats. Said it was quite imaginary. " I never can express my sense Of all the suffering you've averted : Be sure that all my influence On your behalf shall be exerted." The Lady Mary kept her word : To praise him was with her a passion ; And everywhere his name was heard, Till Dr. Brown became the fashion. And soon he moved to Harley Street : His notions grander grew and grander, And to himself he said, " "Twere meet To find a Hero for Leander." 80 PUBLISHED VERSES So he was wed ; but (hapless youth !) Love made him reckless and unwary : One day he told his wife the truth How he had ciu-ed the Lady Mary. She promised ne'er of it to speak ; Her efBorts really were heroic ; For one whole agonising week She bore the torture like a Stoic. But when the week was at an end She felt she'd done enough for glory, And so she told her dearest friend, Li strictest confidence, the story. And then the secret filtered round : Of solemn pledges none was chary ; Until a candid friend felt bound To tell it to the Lady Mary. And when she heard the shameful tale, A paroxysm of rage she flew in ; When that was over, calm and pale She set about Leander's ruin. The power that gave him fame, she turned Against him now without compassion : Leander everywhere was spurned, For Lady Mary set the fashion. His guineas more unfrequent grew, His patients gradually dwindled ; For none would have a doctor who, So Lady Mary said, had swindled. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 81 And soon he could not pay his way, His income was reduced to zero ; And bitterly lie rued the day When he confided in his Hero. The handsome house in Harley Street Is now the noted Dr. Porter's ; Leander's fame was shoi-t and sweet, And now he's in his former quarters. The victim of connubial trust. The dupe of female cimosity. He bows his head in sheer disgust And hopeless impecuniosity. The Christian World Magazine, Mat, 1887. THE STORY OF A PRACTICAL JOKE: A Legend of India. A LGERNON HUGH ALEXANDER CAREW ■^■*- Was a cavah-y subaltern, aged twenty-two, With plenty of money and little to do. The regiment owning this scion of Mars We will call, for convenience, the Himdi-edth Hussars,- I'm aware that, of course, Such a body of Horse Is unknown in the ranks of Her Majesty's Force. 6 82 PUBLISHED VERSES It is needless to state With precision the date Of the incident I am abovit to relate ; Suffice it to say that the regiment had Its quarters just then at Mofussilabad — A station that all Anglo-Indians call A " hole " in the very worst part of Bengal ; Where the " griffin " an adequate knowledge obtains Of what's meant by a summer that's spent in the plains. So Algy Carew Yery speedily knew What an Indian sun at his hottest can do : How it dried up his vigour and muddled his brains, Till he wistfully sighed for the season of rains ; And then when they came, in the soaking cantonment He gained a good notion of what a Monsoon meant. And so to the fact that he had to go through A season or two In the plains may be due The queer temper of Algernon H. A. Carew. Now it ought to be said That when slumber had fled, And red ants and mosquitos were present instead, Carew had a habit of reading in bed Ghost-stories that stiffened the hair on his head. If you wish, gentle reader, to clear and dilate your Ideas on the point, read " The Night Side of Nature " ; Or if modem theory and new nomenclature Tour genius fires, You will find your desires Fulfilled in the wi-itings of Gurney and Myers ; ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 83 For the old-fashioned ghosts are quite left in the lurch By the modern apostles of psychic research. Carew used to boast That although he'd read most Of the works on the subject, a terrible host, Yet he wasn't the least bit afraid of a ghost ; For wherever he slept, 'Neath the pillow he kept A pistol, with which he was quite an adept, And he promised the first supernatural form That appeared a reception unpleasantly warm. Percival Chubb Was the senior " sub " In the regiment we have decided to dub The Hundredth Hussars, and just there was the rub ; For Percival, being a bit of a scrub. Took advantage of senior standing to sntib And score off Carew "When he'd nothing to do, For he thought him " a beastly conceited young cub." So Algy from Percy Expected no mercy. And when he'd the chance, it was just " vice versy." Now Percy was one of those imbecile folk Who think there is fun in a practical joke : No mere lover of chaff For the sake of a laugh That nobody minds— no mere genial poker Of fun, but a regular practical joker. And having a day off He thought he would play off A trick on young Algy, old grudges to pay off. 84 PUBLISHED VERSES Himself superstitions, it made liim abnost Boil over with rage to liear Algernon's boast, And lie thougbt he would see Where his bragging would be When "the beggar should really set eyes on a ghost." So first to his enemy's bedroom he crept. Took the pistol that under his pillow was kept, Adroitly extract-od the bullet, and then Put it carefully under the pillow again. Then at dead of the night He aiTayed him in white. And in Algernon's room, with the moon shining bright, He planted himself, with his back to the light. And prepared to give Algy a terrible fright. The young man was lying in slumber's embrace, And the moonbeams shone full on his innocent face. A smile had just parted his lips in a fashion That ought to have roused his tormentor's compassion ; But Pei'cival Chubb, Being rather a scrub. Merely chuckled to think how his eyes he would rub When he saw at the post Of his bed a real ghost — " My young friend," muttered Percy, " I've got you on toast." Then, striking a pose, To his full height he rose. And broke in on unfortunate Algy's repose With an awful " Aha ! " which he brought from his toes — The correct ghostly greeting, as every one knows. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS, 85 Algernon Hugh Alexander Carew Woke up in a most unmistakable stew, And turned to a hue You might fairly call blue, When the dread apparition encountered his view. Its face wore a smUe that was gi-uesome and grim, And — O horror of horrors ! that chilled every limb — The ghastly thing's finger was pointing at Mm. Lieutenant Carew Didn't know what to do, And he stared at the ghost for a minute or two, As he lay there in bed, While the hair on his head Grew as stiff as a poker with horror and di'ead. Then keeping his eye on the gaunt apparition, He slowly adopted a sitting position. And stealthUy felt for his pistol, the while The spectre looked on with the same mocking smile. Then raising it quickly the trigger he prest And fired at his visitor full in the chest. When the smoke cleared away, To poor Algy's dismay. The ghost was still smiling, as one who should say : " I'm here, and I've every intention to stay " — Which he might have expressed By " /^ iuU etfy reste," But his French conversation was none of the best, But see, what is that in his finger and thumb ? A sight that made Algy's extremities numb. Great Pepper ! it can't be — it is — it's the bullet ! — If he'd been awake, he'd have seen the ghost pull it Five minutes before from his pocket, in view 86 PUBLISHED VERSES Of what French people call a " theatrical coup." With another " Aha ! " that he brought as before From a part of his person adjouaing the floor, The bnllet he nipped With his thumbnail, and flipped — Like a schoolboy propelling the swift " alley -taw," As Algernon noticed in spite of his awe— Right up to the ceiling ; it fell with a thud, That froze up his marrow and curdled his blood. Algernon's brains — That's to say, the remains That were left by a season or two in the plains — Were unequal to any unusual strains. He was always considered a little bit mad In the social resorts of Mofussilabad ; And now he was seized with a frenzy — poor fellow ! — That, coupled with fear, turned him perfectly yellow, And made him appear like a washed-out Othello. By the side of his bed was his cavalry-sword, Which Chubb in his hui-ry had somehow ignored — A fact that he afterwards deeply deplored. So he Jumped out of bed with the rage of despair, And brandished his cavalry-sword in the air ; Then with f ui-y he fell On the spectre pell-mell: " Take that with you back, cursed vision, — " a yell At this moment arose, so I really can't tell How he ended the phrase— and perhaps it's as well. The grim apparition Soon grasped the position, And rushed from the chamber with great expedition. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 87 A horrible gasli in his shoulders declared How Chubb with his practical joking had fared. Away to his rooms fled the terrified subaltern, And gave to the lock of his bedroom a double tiu-n ; Then, spent with excitement and faint from his wound, Poor Percival staggered a moment and swooned. When after six weeks of monotonous pain Percy Chubb was restored to the mess-room again, His life he began On a new sort of plan. And people said Chubb was a different man. The awful events of that terrible morning In Algernon's room had imparted a warning That Percival wasn't the man to be scorning. Henceforth I am glad To record that he had No grudge or ill-will towards that innocent lad — There were no closer friends in Mofussilabad. And instead of the Chubb Who was rather a scrub, ' Too fond of his pipe and his glass and his " rub," He became an exemplary Staid and Good Templary Model of all you could wish in a " sub." He abjm-ed Baccarat, gave up Whist, Nap, and Poker, Became an abstainer and eke a non-smoker, And never again was a practical joker. Moral. Take warning from Algernon H. A. Carew, And sternly henceforth and for ever eschew The practice of reading ghost- stories in bed, 88 PUBLISHED VERSES Wliicli are apt, like strong liquor, to go to your head. If you inust read in bed, as a mild soporific A three-volume novel is qtiite a specific. Some say that this species of literature For insomnia's really too ghastly a cure. If so, I'd allow the nocturnal bookworm an Abstruse philosophical treatise in German — One might even go to a tract or a sermon. And, secondly, never forget that before Retiring to rest you should fasten your door. And last, but not least, never try to provoke A laugh at a man by a practical joke. In the first place, you see. The unhappy joTcee Is frightened clean out of his wits, it may be ; And secondly no on6 will pity the joker If he shovJd encounter a sword or a poker. 'Twas owing to practical joking that Chubb Had to give up his pipe, and his glass, and his " rub." So lest such delights you should have to disown. Leave practical joking severely alone. Then the pleasures of virtue Will never desei-t you : A rubber of three-penny whist will not hui't you ; The moderate glass you may stUl put away ; Still relish the sweetness of meerschaum and clay. The Christian World Magazine, Junk, 1887. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 89 THE ALMIGHTY DOLLAR. pOJETA nascitur non fit : «'Tis Nature" (so I render it) " That makes the poet." But Nature, fashioning my clay, Did not (alas !) build me that way — What's more, I know it. Yet if the Muse, from out a score Of babes, had chosen me to pour Poetic fire on, E'en so I would not tune my lays To nondescript young women's praise, Like Keats or Byron. And I would spend poetic hours, Without apostrophising flowers, Like Edmund Waller ; One theme alone would fire my song : I'd sing of thee the whole day long. Almighty Dollar ! What " Hamlet " saws the Prince would be. Or grand old W. E. G. Without his collar — Such and so poor om- England is. And has been all these centuries, Without her dollar. 90 PUBLISHED VERSES How in tlie world have we sui'vived So many ages, and contrived To do without it? It really almost strikes me dumb With sheer amazement when I come To think about it. The Yankee and the Mexican, And even poor John Chinaman In all his squalor, Has long possessed this piece of pelf (With much advantage to himself), The mighty Dollar. But hitherto Chinese and " Japs " Have been'.before us, and, perhaps, This nonchalant age Its business would have gone about. And stUl been satisfied without This coin of 'vantage. But happily a fact, that I Need not more closely specify, Has roused the nation ; And now the dollar takes its place Among us in this year of grace And jubilation. And yet herein 'tis plain to see Our insular antipathy To all tilings foreign ; To call it " dollar" we'i-e ashamed, So it's unconscionably named The " double florin." ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 91 That such a term will not go down, '• Bob," " tanner," " tizzy," " quid," and " brown," Ai'e ample warning. Imagine this : " Just lend me, Jack, A double florin — pay you back To-morrow morning." Or, " Pray, what might this card-case be ? " " A double florin. Sir — you see It's Russian leather." Or, " Now, then, cabby, what's your fare ? " " It's wuth a double florin— there ! — In thisher weather." But designate it, if jow will, A " double florin," I can still Restrain my choler ; Foj, after all, what's in a name ? In any case the coin's the same, And it's a dollar. And what a work of art and gi-ace ! Though, to be sure, the royal face It does not flatter. And though the crown appears inclined To slip and tumble off behind, What does it matter ? And it has use as well as show ; Worn round the neck 'twould make, you know, A pretty locket. Then its capacity's unique For wearing holes within a week In any pocket. 92 PUBLISHED VERSES Some say for getting change it's not Adapted to the coins we've got. What nonsense ! Why, Sir, Just think of its convenience : It's half-a-crown and eighteenpence ! What conld be nicer ? So now the lounger in Pall Mall, The Park and Piccadilly swell. The Bond Street loUer, In making wagers in his set. Without absurdity can bet His" bottom doUar." A fig for him who prates of " mils," And vaunts, as balm for all oui* ills, The system decimal; The in'itating bore who splits A poimd into a thousand bits Infinitesimal. Let faddist deputations wait On weary Ministers of State To ui'ge theii' notion ; And let them still be sent about Their business, snuffed politely out, By Mr. Goschen. But with our dollar we'll be glad ; There's plenty of them to be had. Where England's Bank is. Our satisfaction's now complete, For we no more need take a seat Behind the Yankees. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 93 And as for me, whate'ei* my lot, Whether the mansion or the cot, In wealth or squalor, To my abode, where'er it be, I'll always warmly welcome thee. Almighty Dollar ! The Christian World Magazine, July, 1887. MY FIRST LOVE. LAST summer, feeling rather low, I thought I might as well as not Enjoy a quiet month or so At some unfashionable spot — Some seaside place unknown to fame. For Fashion is my pet abhorrence ; Bob Sparke, my chum, thought just the same. And in the end we chose St. Lawrence. So Bob and I went down one day. And put up at the George Hotel; And so a fortnight passed away, And we enjoyed it very well. And then one evening in the cool, As from my window I protruded, There passed a certain Ladies' School, In which an angel was included. 94 PUBLISHED VERSES Words fail me to describe her face, Wliicli I would back against all comers — A dream of loveliness and grace, • Of, roughly speaking, sixteen summers. And from that hour, by night and day, That vision smiled upon me sweetly ; I could not think of work or play, For I was broken up completely. I tried to read ; but oh, that face ! Upon the head it seemed to knock work ; And every evening at my place I sat as regular as clock-work, I ascertained the school was one Of high repute beyond compare. Kept by the Misses Simi^kinson, At No. 30, Worcester Square. My angel's name, unknown to me, ' I would not e'en presume to guess ; She figured in my thovights as " She," With capital initial S. I never spoke a word to her. Because I never had the chance. Nor can I truthfully aver She gave me e'er a tender glance. The darling hardly looked at me, But all the same I loved her madly ; First love was my complaint, you see, And I had got it pretty badly. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 95 Bob's counsel and advice I soiiglit : In him, of course, I had confided, And it was fortunate, I thought, He didn't worship her as I did. But Bob's suggestions were absurd ; He wanted me to bribe the maid At Worcester Square, and " like a bird," He said I'd get a note conveyed. I thought it far too boldly planned. The coui-se that Robert recommended ; My angel would not imderstand ; She might be mortally offended. So time went on, till with a growl Bob voted it imcommon slow. Said I was stupid as an owl. And " Fit for nothing, don't you know." One day, a little after three, In passing by the letter stand, I found a note addressed to me, In what appeared a female hand. I felt a kind of odd sensation In opening the note, and there — Great heavens ! I found an invitation To No. 30, Worcester Square. In phantasy I seemed to roam In near proximity to Heaven — " The Misses Simpkinson at home ; Lawn tennis half -past four to seven," 96 PUBLISHED VERSES The date ? This very afternoon ; I must prepare to go at once ; But stay ! I won't arrive too soon, Or She'll consider me a dunce. P'raps I may walk with her alone To where a seat beneath the shade is. How kind to me the fates have grown ! And how I bless those maiden ladies ! If ever She should pity take Upon my love, and answer " Yes," I'll send a piece of wedding-cake— A large piece — to the Misses S. It looks like rain, and flannels shrink. So I must take a mackintosh — Good gracious ! now I come think, My flannels all are at the wash. Well, beggars, so they say, can't choose — At least, the lawn I must not cut up ; I'll buy a pair of tennis shoes — Bank Holiday ! the shops are shut up. Well, there, I don't much care to play ; But all the same I'll take my racket — Well, really, now — oh, come, I say — The careless maid forgot to pack it. Well, I must go in what I've on ; And, after all, what does it matter What sort of clothes a man may don, Who makes his boots, or who's his hatter ? ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 97 My coat I thought looked -worse for wear, My trousers seemed a trifle dirty, When I ari'ived in Worcester Square, And rang the bell o£ No. 30. My heart beat loiid ; the deed was done ; And soon the door was opened wide, And, murmuring " Miss Simpkinson," In muffled tones, I stepped inside. I waited in a darkened room, WTiere everything was quite " genteel," And I was thankful that the gloom My agitation would conceal. A neighb'ring door creaked noisily ; I heard a momentary hum Of conversation bi-oken by — " A young man called to see yoti, mum." Miss S. arrives ; she's tall and thin, And from her neck an eyeglass dangles ; Her nose is long and aquiline, Her figure mainly lines and angles. Miss S.'s eyes are weak and blear, And that is why the room's so shady ; Her mien is stately and severe, But still I love that maiden lady. What though her form is gaunt and thin ? Her heai-t, I'm sure, is full of charity ; And if the heart is fair within. What matters outward angularity ? 98 PUBLISHED VERSES I soon foimd out Miss Sinipkinson Was most abominably deaf ; Her voice was sbrill, and pitched upon The G above the treble clef. " I hope you understand, young man, About a la-wn, and grass, and so on ? " " Why, yes — I think so," I began, And didn't quite know how to go on. " We have it mown three times a week ; It's quite the chief thing in the garden." " Indeed ! " I said, " Eh ! did you speak ? " " Oh, nothing, ma'am — I beg your pardon." " Of course, I shall expect of yoii To see the lawn is kept in order ; And you must be most careful, too. About the tulips round the border." " Oh, I'll be careful not to ti-ead Upon the tulips — ^heaven forbid ! " " Eh ! did you speak ? " " Oh, no," I said. " Oh ! — ^beg your pardon — thought you did.' What i& Miss Simpkinson about ? Thought I ; it's rather poorish sport ; She knows I'm dying to go out ; I wish she'd try and cut it short. " The orchard," she resumed, " you'll find Well stocked with apples, pears, and such." " Oh, thank you, ma'am, you're very kind ; But fruit's a thing I never touch." ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 99 I spoke so loud the lady heard ; " I'm glad to hear it," answered she; " I hope, young man, you'll keep your word, And never touch a single tree." "Well, now, thought I, this is a go ; She talks as if I were the gardener. I'm sure she doesn't mean it, though, For rudeness ! so, of course, I pardon her. " What wages do you ask .^^ Of course, I can't engage you till I've seen " " What ! " shouted I, in accents hoarse, " My wages ! What does all this mean ? " Was this an insult coolly planned ? The blood came rushing to my face. " Your wages — yes ; I understand, Tou've come about the gardener's place." " Excuse me," I replied, severe And calm, despite my indignation ; "To play at tennis I am here, At yoiu" especial invitation." She gazed at me with scorn, and then : " The man's a madman or a fool ! What ! do you think we ask young men To tennis at a ladies' school ? " Across my fevered brain there came A dark suspicion, biu-ning, blighting. " The card ! " I cried. " In heaven's name, Read that, and say if it's yom* writing ! " 100 PUBLISHED VERSES The lady calmly read it through ; I watched her face in dire suspense. " Young man. they've made a fool of you ! I should have thought you'd have more sense." I rushed in fury to the door ; My heart was filled with passions dark ; Yes, now I saw it all, and swore To have the blood of Robert Sparke. And when at last I was alone, In No. 20, George Hotel, " Pistols for two, and tea for one ! " I muttered, as I rang the bell. " Is Mr. Sparke within ? " I cried — The waiter quailed before my mien— " He's gone to town, sir," he replied ; '• He left, sir, by the thi-ee-fifteen." Wild schemes at fii'st inflamed my breast ; •' I'll follow him, as I'm a sinner ! " On second thoughts, I deemed it best To stop at home and order dinner. Rest and reflection braced me up ; Next morning, feeling slightly better, I found beside my breakfast cup, The following audacious letter : " Deak Jack, — I hope you imderstood The object that I had in view ; I knew you'd never do much good, If everything were left to you. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 101 " And so I introduced you there — My plan, I think, was rather cunning — And, once in 30, Worcester Square, Of course, old chap, you made the running. " Just wi'ite and tell me what you did — And, hy-the-way, you want a cob ; I've got a stunner — fifty quid— As cheap as dirt.— Yoiu's truly, Bob." The Vhristian World Magazine, September, 1887. A FANCY BAZAAR. f\ MASTERLY mind ! O bewildering brain I ^^ O cunning of counsel and greedy of gain ! I sing in your honour, whoever you are, Who evolved the idea of a Fancy Bazaar. For endowing a hospital, founding a school. For dressing up niggers in cotton and wool. For supplying old women with sugar and tea, For reforming the victims of " Soda and B," For buying an organ, restoring a church, Leave sermons and meetings away in the liu'ch : Of all the devices — search near or search far — There's nothing on earth like a Fancy Bazaar ! The women are all in theii' element there ; For the due subjugation of man they prepare. Professional beauties and stars operatic, 102 PUBLISHED VERSES And ladies plebeian and aristocratic, All mix for tlie nonce without any compunction, And all volunteer to take part in tlie function. For Fancy Bazaars afford plenty of room For striking departures in fancy costume ; Ajid each is convinced that the whole thing's success Depends on her own individual di'ess. Sometim.es Early English attire is the fashion, Sometimes for Shakespearean roles there's a passion ; Sometimes they astonish their friends and relations By boldly adopting costumes of all nations ; Then a motley assemblage encounters the view, Fair daughters of France in the red, white and blue, Bright-eyed Irish beauties, the loveliest types, The tartan of Scotland, the stars and the stripes ; The loose flowing robes of the Heathen Chinee, From the trammels of fashion so glad to be free ; The graceful " kimmono " of old-world Japan, One garment, one fashion, for woman and man ; The Tui-k's jealous veil that sets off the dark eyes And enhances the charms that it cannot disguise ; The Indian nautch-girl with trinkets o'erladen. The laughing Italian, the dark Spanish maiden ; Egyptians, Ai-menians, and Persians galore, Swiss, Germans, and goodness knows how many more. Yes, such is the army that's banded to vex And pillage and plunder the opposite sex. As soon as he enters, they straightway assail Their unf ortimate victim, the innocent male ; And before he's had time then* intention to note, Deft fingers have fastened a flower in his coat. So he pays his five shillings, is told he looks nice, And thinks it uncommonly dear at the price. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 103 See, there is a lady well known on the stage, Whose talent and beauty have made her the rage. Her photo in every shop-window is seen By the side of the Princess of Wales and the Queen, And a crowd stops to gaze at her charms photographic Entirely obstructing pedestrian traffic. Yet here in the flesh she presides at a stall, As if — so to speak — she were no one at all, Selling rather expensive tea, coffee, and ices — At Fancy Bazaars you must pay fancy prices. With such a tea-maker, who wouldn't be willins To reckon a cup of tea cheap at a shilling ? But when she just touches the cup with her lips, And, taking the least of diminutive sips. Says, " Now it's a sovereign " — you feel, as a rule. And in all j)robability look, like a fool. But you can't well refuse, so you pay like a man, And try to extract from the tea, if you can, By sipping as if 'twere the choicest of wine. All the sweetness imparted by lips so divine. Or perhaps you might follow the plan of campaign Of a certain old bachelor, cross in the gi'ain, Who calmly and coldly his sovereign paid up. And then asked if she'd kindly supply a clean cup ! Then you're Im-ed to your fate in the fonn of a raffle, And no strength of mind theii- persistence can baffle. " Just look at this cushion — now isn't it nice ? " And notice the wholly inadequate price ; " If you'll only just help me to make a beginning, " I'm sui-e you are perfectly certain of wiiming." Or they bring you a " cosy " — a thing that, no doubt, A well-ordered household is never without ; 104 PUBLISHED VERSES It is placed, I believe, on the top o£ the pot, And — a thing I detest— keeps the tea boiling hot. You remark that you like not the cosy in question ; They scout as bad taste the outrageous suggestion. Tou say you're a bachelor, try to look sulky, And hint that a cosy's both useless and bulky ; It's all to no pm-pose : they only look pleasant, And say it will do for a nice little present. " Now do take a chance in this sandalwood box, " It's beaut if vd Indian work — and it locks ! " It will do to keep gloves in, or collars, or ties, " Or anything else of a moderate size : "It would do for the things that you use when you shave, " Or if not— well, it's always a nice thing to have." And so they extract, with their blandishments killing, The reluctant half-crown and the lingering shilling. They show you some slippers in yellow and green. Whose size, roughly speaking, 's an easy sixteen ; Or a smoking-cap, gaily embroidered in red, Three sizes too big for a rational head, And about as much use to a man as a bonnet. For who ever knew a true smoker to don it ? So you put in for all the most useless affairs. For antimacassars and footstools and chairs. For tea-caddies, paper-knives, travelling-lamps. And flimsy concerns to hold paper and stamps, For a crewel-work screen, or a hand-painted tray, While change for a sovereign melts swiftly away. But you mustn't object of youi' coin to be eased, You must pay up serenely and try to look pleased. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 105 And oil I the proud joy, ou the list as you glance, To find that you've won by the favour of chance A flower-pot thing, with a fern or two in it, That's cost you a couple of sovereigns to win it ! 'Tis strange a Bazaar should become an occasion For plunder by friends of the female persuasion ; And strange that a meeting so churchy and parsony Develops a system of legalised larceny. But every one knows that the object is good, So no one would ever object if he could. It's all very well for some people to say, " I like to subscribe in the usual way ; '■ And I hate at a Fancy Bazaar to be hoaxed "And bothered and pulled about, wheedled and coaxed." If charity only depended on " lists," Would these people so readily open their fists ? I strongly suspect that the sovereigns and crowns, The florins and shillings and diffident " browns," Would lurk undistui-bed in their own fluffy lair, If not lured by the smiles and the channs of the fair. Then come to the show in your thousands, and mind That your pockets with cui'rent coin amply are lined. Be sui-e you'll have lots of amusement and laughter, And also be sure that you'll pay for it after. So gather, good people, from near and from far, To be swindled and fleeced at the Fancy Bazaar. The Christian World Magazine, October, 1887. 106 PUBLISHED VERSES "POOR GREEN!" TOSIAH GREEN was slioi-t and leau— " He couldn't well be shorter — In boots complete, he stood five feet Two inches and a quarter ! His wife was tall, and stout withal, No high-heeled shoes she needed ; And the people said the lady weighed As much again as he did. A month had sped since they were wed — Perhaps a trifle longer — When Mrs. G. resolved to see If he or she were stronger. And when a " scene " showed Mrs. Green Her lord was not high-mettled, Their proper shares in home affairs Were very promptly settled. Thenceforth without dispute or doubt. Or difference of opinion. She exercised an undisguised And absolute dominion. To free his life from rows and strife And peaceably enjoy it, he Let it be seen that Mrs. Green Was his superior moiety. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 107 But still howe'er uneasy were His conjugal relations, Josiah's lot in life was not Without its compensations. Thougli Fate, no doubt, had marked him out A pathway somewhat hilly, Yet he possessed one place of rest — A club in Piccadilly. A club and friends will make amends For all the woes of mortals ; And Green began to feel a man When once within its portals. " Poor Green ! " they dub him at the club, And wonder " how he bore it " ; In fact, his name but rarely came Without a " poor " before it. Now, though we've seen that Mrs. Green A despot's sceptre wielded. Her exercise of power was wise, And here and there she yielded. For e'en the worm, as folks aflB.rm, Will turn in pure distraction. (Though should it tui-n, I can't discern Its further course of action.) So it had been arranged that Green, With Mrs. G.'s permission. Three nights a week was free to seek His club without suspicion. 108 PUBLISHED VERSES A time of bliss to Green was tliis, A kind of earthly heaven ; But dread his lot, if he were not At home before eleven. And therefore when 'twas half -past ten, Like wretched Cinderella, His way he'd make downstairs and take His hat and his umbrella. No power could stay him on his way ; His friends would oft entreat him ; Bitt only too, too well he knew How Mrs. G. would gi-eet him. One evening at the club he sat With friends in near proximity — We'll put them down as Jones and Brown, Avoiding anonymity. Now, Brown and Jones in undertones Were all the time conspiring To try and make poor Green mistake The hour for his retiring. To sleight-of-hand, as they had planned, The conversation drifted ; Brown said he knew a trick or two, Though not exactly gifted. And soon he got by this dark plot Green's watch within his power. And all unseen by Mr. Green He set it back an hour. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 109 Then Jones whose mind to cards inclined, Being an adept at euchre, I gi'ieve to say, proposed to play That sinful game for lucre. For mischief's sake he meant to make Poor Green get home belated ; Meantime to win his victim's " tin " He basely contemplated. His wickedness I can't suppress In this veracious history ; For, to his shame, he thought the game To Green was quite a mystery. So Green sat down with Jones and Brown To this unseemly pastime, Although, I'm proud to say, he vowed That it should be the last time. But strange to say that, as the play Went on, the mere beginner. The guileless Green, was quickly seen To be the only winner, StiU undismayed, they played and played, For they were quite delighted To see, meanwhile, that Fortune's smile Was making Green excited. The time went fast : his hour was past. But he continued playing ; And serious grew the other two, As they continued paying. 110 PUBLISHED VERSES But tliough tlie play went all one way — Nought e'er was seen to matcli it — They felt consoled for loss of gold To think how Green would catch it. Midnight had struck, and Green's good luck "Was getting quite offensive, And they began to think their plan Decidedly expensive. At 12.15 they vowed that Green Had had sufficient innings : " It's time," they said, " to go to bed ; So, Green, collect yoiu- winnings." All eager were the guilty paii% With keen impatience burning, Resolved to see how Mrs. G. Would gi'eet her lord returning. So with a smile of crafty guile Their sentiments concealing, Said they, " We'll come and see you home, To show there's no ill-feeling." They'd lost, it's true, but still they knew That it was worth the money ; So forth they fared, full well prepared For something really funny. They pictui'ed to themselves the view Of Mrs. G.'s excitement : Poor Green would learn what his return At such a time of night meant. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. Ill In vain they tried their mirth to hide, Their wicked smiles to smother ; They chuckled oft, and choked and coughed, And winked at one another. The luckless Green was quite serene : With jauntineas he bore him, And seemed, poor wight ! unconscious quite Of doom impending o'er him. And when before .Josiah's door They reach their destination, The guilty twain could not contain Their Ul-suppressed elation. For now the fun was just begun. The fruit of all their labovu-s ; There'd be a " scene " with Mrs. Green Enough to wake the neighbours. So Jones began : " "Well, Green, old man, You look uncommon happy ; But " — with a wink to Brown — " I think It's rather late, old chappie. •' There goes the chime ! You know the time ? It's one o'clock that's striking. It seems to me that Mrs. G. "Won't find it to her liking. " This sad delay, I need not say, Most bitterly we both rue, "We can't express our gi*eat distress At what you'll have to go through. 112 PUBLISHED VERSES " We feel for you — we really do ; Our hearts are soft as butter — I speak for Brown, whose feelings drown The words he fain would utter." Then answered Green, while tears between His eyelids were collecting : " Tour sympathy, my friends, to me Is really quite affecting. " Fi'iendship is still for every ill The one all-healing potion ; And what I feel, I can't conceal — Pray, pardon my emotion ! '• Ah ! Jones, my friend till life shall end ! And Brown, you dear old pal, you ! The sympathy you feel for me, Full well I know its value. " But, I am glad to say, your sad Forebodings I can lighten : Be not cast down, dear Jones and Brown— My wife's away at Brighton I " ^ The Chrintinn World Magazine, December, 1887. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 113 THE STRANGER AT MACVITTEY'S. rpHERE stands not far from Temple Bar -*- The Restaurant MacYittey, A house whose fame is on a par With any in the City. Indeed, it's quite beyond compare In one respect, worth knowing, For men declare they give you there The finest oysters going. So toothsome, whether plain or dressed. So full of luscious juices ; In fact they are the very best That Whitstable produces. You know your oyster's freshly caught, Without the slightest question, A native — not a s^ettUr, fraught With danger to digestion. An oyster supper there is quite What Yankees call exquisite — Though that, I think, is not the right Pronunciation— is it ? And there's no place for many a mile Where guests get more attention, Or things are served in better style, Than at the house I mention. 8 114 PUBLISHED VERSES And then there's William ! Who more bland ? Who brisker, brighter, cheerier ? No other waiter in the land Is William Grnbb's superior. The place is crowded every day. The hansoms often block it ; And many a shilling finds its way To William's trouser-pocket. Though guests may try his temper, ne'er A word by him is muttered, For William Grubb is quite aware Which side his bread is buttered. One evening at MacVittey's door A well-dressed stranger entered, And William's whole attention more And more upon him centred. If any man knew how to dress, Tlie stranger clearly knew it ; He seemed moreover to possess The wherewithal to do it. The fashionable hat he wore Was glossy and untarnished ; His gaiters fitted neatly o'er His boots superbly varnished. His clothes were exqixisitely made. And of the latest fashion ; In fact, his whole get-up betrayed That dress must be his passion. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 115 He seemed some thirty-tliree oi* four, But ghastly pale his visage, And on his brow were wrinkles more Than you'd expect at his age. He'd raven locks, that emphasize The depth of pale complexions ; A ciu-ious look was in his eyes, Wliich roved in all directions. With haughty pride the stranger cried, " A private room, please, waiter ! " And William Grubb remarked aside, " WeU, he's a reel fust-rater." For William thought he knew a " gent " From those whose sort is baser ; So pompously in front he went, With. •' Please to step this way, sir." For in this stranger William saw A something that impressed him ; He listened in a state of awe When thus the gent addressed him : o^ Just Ijring me up a score or two Of native oysters, waiter ; But first I want a talk with you : I hope you're not a prater. It's this way — oysters don't like me, Though I like nothing better ; To me an oyster's apt to be A terrible upsetter. 116 PUBLISHED VERSES " They tell me that, as oysters go, The best are at MacYittey's ; But still there's danger — do you know What a bivalvic fit is ? " That's my complaint — it's very rife — And I've a grave misgiving That oysters are the cause, though life Without them's not worth living. " I had to give them up last year — It's awful self-denial — But now, you understand, I'm here To make another trial. " They may not make me ill at all : My health is now much stronger ; But any how, whate'er befall, I can't resist them longer. " WeU, if I'm taken ill that way, Though lately I've been better. Just carry out — you'll find it pay — My orders to the letter. " If I begin to writhe like this, About my second plateful, Let no one know that aught's amiss : A fuss to me is hateful. " But help me out, and there's no gi'ound For serious apprehension, For in the air I'll soon come round ; But don't attract attention. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 117 " Just take me to some quiet lane : There's one at no great distance ; Then quickly rtm back here again — I'll stand without assistance — " And bring a glass of water neat With nothing stronger in it, And that will set me on my feet In less than half a minute. " Of course, my friend, I sha'n't forget To pay you well— don't doubt it ; Look here ! a sovereign you shall get If you're discreet about it. " Well, bring me up two score at first, And have another ready ; And then — I've got an awful thirst, But stout is rather heady. " Just show me what you've got in wine. Ah ! Pommery and Greno Of '74 — a drink divine, To which I never say ' No.' " Of course you'll have to be at hand : Your help I may be needing : You'll take a chair — you needn't stand — And closely watch me feeding." And soon the oysters glibly slipped Adown the stranger's throttle ; While tranquilly his wine he sipped At one-pound-four the bottle. 118 PUBLISHED VERSES And William sat witli anxious face ; His heart beat quick and quicker, To see them go at such a pace — The oysters and the liquor. And now the gentleman's third score Was sensibly diminished ; The Pommery of '74 Was actually finished. His face with satisfaction beamed. Thought William, " That's the ticket ! " And certainly the stranger seemed As merry as a cricket. When something suddenly occiui-ed That made poor William start up ; And, as he aftenvards aveiTcd, It nearly brought his heart up. An awful change swept o'er that face. But now so bright and cheerful ; The eyes seemed starting from then- place ; Their look was something fearful. He clutched the air, and gasped for breath, His features were contorted : He seemed upon the point of death, With agouy transported. His toi'tm-ed body wi-ithed and squirmed Without the least cessation ; As William said, the fit confinned His worst anticipation. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 119 Then William Grubb, thougli not without A feeling of compunction, At once began to carry out The stranger's strict injunction. He took him down a quiet street, And left him there a minute ; Then fetched a glass of water neat With nothing stronger in it. But though the stranger could not stand Without the wall behind him, When William came back, glass in hand, He somehow could not find him. Thi-ice up and down the street he ran, Of every one inquiring ; But nobody had seen the man, And William found it tiring. So finally he ceased his quest ; His energy had dwindled ; And William to himself confessed That he'd been nicely swindled. " There'd not be much to wonder at With such a youngster, may be ; But me to be took in like that, As easy as a baby ! " And by a chap of that 'ere ti*im For all 'is 'ighth o' fashion. As soon as I set eyes on 'im I knew 'e was a flash 'vm. 120 PUBLISHED VERSES " Why there, I saw 'e was a scrub, And quite infer'or looking : O William Grubb, O William Grubb, To think that yoxi was took in ! " That Pommerj, and such a lot Of oysters all unpaid for I He stood awhile, and wondered what Such rogues and thieves were made for. Then, in a state of sheer collapse. Just like a punctured bladder, Went back, a wiser man, perhaps, But certainly a sadder. Thi?. Christian World Mo gat ine, January, 1888. LORD TOMNODDY. AUGUSTUS S. B. O. de Y., The 15th Lord Tomnoddy, Was very long in pedigree. But very short in body. Dame Nature had not favoured him- His parents even said it — In face and featiu*e, fonn and limb. He did them little credit. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 121 And this, perhaps, was why the Fates, By way of some requital, Had made him heir to large estates And given him a title. And when his peerage he had got And an enormous rental, What mattered it that he was not Exactly ornamental ? His character was rather bad, His habits dissipated ; What little breeding he had had Was quite obliterated. His manners, too, were hardly those Of the refined patrician ; In fact, a stranger would suppose He was of low condition. Yet every mother who possessed A marriageable daughter, Invariably did her best To lead her to the slaughter. For mothers can't affoi'd, you sec, To criticise severely A lord of ancient pedigree With eighty thousand yearly. Great wealth can whitewash any peer Whose character is shady, And every mother likes to hear Her daughter called " My lady." 122 PUBLISHED VERSES So, with, his ancient origin, His lands and halls baronial, He had a high quotation in The market matrimonial. Among the -women-folk my lord Gave rise to keen dissensions, But he was obviously bored By feminine attentions. Far other things — here was the rub — Attracted Lord Tomnoddy — His boon-companions at the club. His cards and whiskey-toddy. Though sprimg from the Tomnoddy race, Wbose fame was European, His lordship's tastes were, like his face, Decidedly plebeian. And so the daughters sighed in vain, In vain the mothers plotted, And all agi'eed that it was plain Tonmoddy was besotted. One day he rode in Rotten Row By shady friends sm-roundcd, When suddenly a cry of woe In female tones resounded. A lady's horse came rushing past : All powerless its rider ; But Lord Tomnoddy's steed was fast, And soon he was beside her. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 123 The liorse was stopped : a lovely maid Was thanking her preserver In winning accents, that betrayed Her gratitude and fervoiir. Tomnoddy gazed upon that face : He ne'er had seen its equal ; It seemed instinct with every gi-ace — Tou can divine the sequel. For all at once his hardened heart, Which ne'er before had quivered, Grave such an imexpected stai-t, Tomnoddy fairly shivered. The beauteous maiden he had saved Had wrought a transformation, And he was hopelessly enslaved — A wholly new sensation. This lovely girl should be his wife. However poor or bii*thless ; Without her he perceived that life Was absolutely worthless. Her home might be in villadom, Her people might be " shoddy " ; 'Twould make a difference to some, But not to Lord Tomnoddy. He longed to know the maiden's name, Yet hardly durst demand it. He gave his card : she did the same ; And eagerly he scanned it. 124 PUBLISHED VERSES " Miss Mabel Gi-ay." With reverent touch He held the dainty label ; He never knew till then how much He liked the name of Mabel. He called as early as he deemed Consistent with propriety : To his delight, the Grays, it seemed, Were people " in Society." He found they knew his brother Jack (Most excellent of topics) ; They asked when he was coming back From cruising in the tropics. For Jack was with his ship just then — A smart and handsome sailor ; A veritable prince of men, The idol of his tailor. A finer form of human mould No scidptor could embody ; And more than this, a heart of gold Had handsome Jack Tomnoddy. And though my lord was, as you see, A despicable creature, His love for Jack was said to be His one redeeming featui-e. Henceforth, his lordship, wet or fair, Found some excuse or other To fly to Mabel's side, and there Be bored by Mabel's mother. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 125 And Mrs. Gray saw very clear Advantages marital In eighty thousand pounds a year Attaching to a title. At length my lord declared himself, As well as he was able, And laid his title, lands, and pelf Before the lovely Mabel. The answer of Miss Mabel Gray Was rather unexpected : For in the sweetest, kindest way His lordship was rejected. She ne'er had seen him show before Such signs of deep emotion ; A dignity his features wore, Of which she had no notion. He gravely bowed without a word, And mournfully departed ; In truth the wretched little lord Was fairly broken-hearted. For months he travelled far and wide In all the haunts of fashion ; And, plunged in dissipation, tried To cure his hopeless passion. He went to theatre, ball, and race ; He tried the gaming-table ; But everywhere he saw the face And heard the voice of Mabel. 126 PUBLISHED VERSES He occupied six months or so In never-ceasing movement, But after all detected no Perceptible improvement. For, whether climbing Alpine heights, Or on the ocean sailing, He found his struggles and his flights Completely unavailing. He travelled far, he travelled fast, Through every part of Europe — In vain ! So he resolved at last To give the travel-cure up. Then home he came, with grizzled hair. And health and vigour waning, And found his brother Jack was there — His only joy remaining. And soon he learnt, to his surprise, Jack knew his love's brief history : And, gazing in his brother's eyes, He understood the mystery. My Lord Tomnoddy now began To see the why and wherefore : His brother was the only man That she could ever care for. He read the truth he had not heard : He knew their troth was plighted ; He tried in vain to speak a word, To say he was delighted. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 127 He wimng Jack's hand, and went away, With nothing more explicit — The valet at his door next day No answer could elicit. They broke the door and on the ground, A cold and lifeless body. Shot by his own rash hand, they found The fifteenth Lord Tomnoddy. A note was crumpled in his hand, His dying words expressing : " Dear Jack, I'm sure you'll understand. I wish you every blessing. " I've found the surest of all cures — I felt I could not face it — I'm glad to think the title's yours ; And Mabel — she will grace it. " Good bye ! My brain is overwi-ought — You'll break it to my mother ; And sometimes give a kindly thought To your unhappy brother." T/ie Chridian World Magazine, February, 1888. 128 PUBLISHED VERSES THE PASSENGER FOR CREWE. 4 T half -past six on a winter's eve, -^^ The Irish Mail was about to leave Tlie Terminus. Euston Sauare : "WTien an elderly gentleman, hot and flushed, Through the lingerin^r crowd on the platform brushed. And straight to the door of a first class rushed In a state of wild despair. Himself and his luggage inside were crammed With the aid of a porter ; the door was slammed, As the train had almost started. The engine snorted, as who should sav, " If you want to be left behind, you may." Then a " Eight behind ! " and a " Eight away ! " And into the darkness without delay The Irish Mail departed. The elderly gentleman breathed again When he found himself safely inside the train That had nearly gone off without him. Asleep in a very shoi-t time he dropped, But awoke when the train at Willesden stopped, And out of the window his head he popped, And anxioxisly looked about Mm. " Guard ! guard I "' he exclaimed, as in direst need ; And the kindly official came up with speed. " Guard, have we arrived at Crewe ? " ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 129 " No, sir," said tlie man, as he turned aside, A very perceptible grin to hide. " Oh, thank you," the elderly gent replied, " I am much obliged to jow." Then the engine whistled and moved ahead, And rapidly oiit of the station sped The Irish Boat Express ; And the elderly gentleman, as before, Cui'led up in his corner, and soon once more Fell sweetly asleep and began to snore In dreamy forgetfulness. And after a time he awoke again. As the brake was applied and the groaning train Rolled into the Rugby station. He pulled down the window, and peering out, For the name of the station he looked about. And finding none, he began to shout For the guard in desperation. " Guard ! guard ! " in agonised tones he cried And the guard came hui-rying to his side. " Guard, have we arrived at Crewe ? " " No, sir ; it's a long ways from this yer. I'll tell you what, sir ; you needn't stir, But when we get there, why, I'll call you, sir." " Oh, thank you, guard," said the passenger, " I am greatly obliged to you." The guard, as he shut himself in his van, Thought, " Ain't he a fussy old gentleman? But he's good for a tip," he said. 130 PUBLISHED VERSES They stopped at Nuneaton and Stafford, too, And when, about ten minutes overdue, The train rattled noisUy into Crewe, He had such a number of things to do, That the thought of the gent in the first-class flew Clean out of the poor guard's head. And the innocent passenger took his rest. And never (poor man !) for an instant guessed That Crewe had been left behind ; And possibly, if he had been aware Of the terrible truth, he'd have torn his hair. Or in some other manner portrayed despair ; But he sat as he might in his own arm-chair. And peacefully slumbered without a care, And trusting the guard to awake him there, Reposed with easy mind. On, on the train through the darkness flew, And now it had run to the north of Crewe Some mile and-a-half or more, When all of a sudden a something brovight To the mind of the guard the appalling thought Of the elderly first-class gent he ought To have called some time before. "With trembling hand and bewildered brain He clutched at the cord, and along the train To the driver the signal ran. For here was a gent, and a first-class, too, Perhaps a director, for all he knew, Who'd told him he wanted to stop at Crewe, And was now being carried away right through To Chester, at least, poor man ! ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 131 And qixickly tlie driver applied tlio brake, Thougli lie couldn't make out wliy the guard should take Such a sudden and gi-ave decision ; And the passengers put out their heads to see What the reason for stopping the train could be, And some were affrighted, and some were free In theii' language regarding the company, And somebody shouted " It's aU UP ; We're in for a big collision." And then as the train moved slowly back, Theii- faces grew blacker and yet more black. And their wonderment still increased. And after a time they arrived at Crewe, And the guard was in a decided stew. For the risk he was running full well he knew, But he thought, " The old gent didn't seem a screw ; If he does as a fii'st-class ought to do, He's good for a bob, at least." So he put a good face on a baddish job. Looking smart and cheerful to earn his " bob "— No guard on the line was sprucer — Aaid so without losing a moment's space, He ran to the door at his nimblest pace, And opened it wide with a smiling face. Saying, " Here we ai-e at Crewe, sir. " We're just a bit late, su-— I hope you've slept," And into the carriage he lightly stepped ; And then ^\-ithout more ado. To take out the gentleman's things began, Saying, " Please look as lively, sii', as you can. 132 PUBLISHED VERSES Have you got any other things in the van P " " Stay, stay," said the elderly gentleman ; " I'm not getting out at Crewe. " I wanted to know when the train got there. But the reason, of course, is my own affair ; Still, I don't mind telling you. The fact is, I've lately been rather ill — I think I must somewhere have caught a chill- And of course I'm obliged to be careful still. On pain of another long doctor's bill ; So, on leaving my home at Camden Hill, I promised my daughter I'd take a pill When the train arrived at Crewe." Tfte Christian World Magaxine, March, 1888. •"vrv^N^v^^^X "A FOOL AND HIS MONEY." Q OME years ago, on a certain door ^ In Bishopsgate Street Without, Was an old brassplate, but the words it bore You wouldn't perhaps make out. The plate was decidedly worse for wear, But you possibly might decipher it ; And the name of a well-known firm was there. If you looked with a careful eye for it. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 133 Messrs. Swindell and Rooke were a wealthy house, Though theii- name was obscui-e and dim ; And Benjamin Rooke was a man of nous : There was no getting over him. "When a " good thing " was going, this wily firm Was sm'e to be there, I've heard ; And they always got hold of the fattest worm, For the Rooke was an early bird. His rivals were easily left behind By the smartness of Mr. Rooke ; And though sailing uncommonly near the wind, He had never been brought to book. So none of the mercantile houses bore An older repute or higher, And very few men were respected more Than Benjamin Rooke, Esquire. One day, when his morning's work was done And he felt it was time to eat. As the bells of St. Paul's chimed half -past one He stepped into Bishops gate Street. He walked along with a lordly air (He was rich, and he let you know it) To his mutton chop " rare," his usual fare, Washed down with a pint of Moet. And as Benjamin Rooke to his luncheon hied, A man from behind him passed, Looked earnestly into his face, and cried, In a tone of relief, " At last " 134 PUBLISHED VERSES His Lincoln and Bennett was smart and bright, And elegant his attire, And he took off his hat with an air polite To Benjamin Rooke, Esquire. " Ah, many a long, long day I've sought For you, Sir," the stranger said ; And Benjamin Rooke, as he heard him, thought He seemed by his tone well-bred. " I fear that you hardly remember me. And I couldn't, of course, expect it ; But if I may tell you my history Perhaps you will recollect it. " On a winter's morning ia '72 — It's nearly ten years ago — A half -starved beggar accosted you, And the ground was white with snow. " His face was pallid and gaunt and wan, His teeth in the cold wind chattered ; And what little clothes the poor wretch had on Were shabby and worn and tattered. " Five hungry children, an ailing wife, Had driven him almost mad ; He wondered if aught could be worse than life — If death could be half as bad. " His piteous tale of want he told. And suffice it, Sir, to say, You listened — you pitied — ^you gave him gold — You saved seven lives that day ! ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 135 " And an oath that shivering beggar swore, While his eyes with tears were wet, That if Fate ever smiled upon him once more He would pay that sacred debt. " It was little, perhaps, to a man like you, Whose coffers are full to the brim ; But oh, my good Sir, if you only knew What that sovereign meant to Mm I " It gave him the power of winning back His place among decent men ; It gave him a start on the upward track — He has prospered mxich since then. " Though your name was unknown to him, yet, I trow, Youi' face he could ne'er forget ; That beggar is standing before you now — I have come. Sir, to pay my debt ! " Now, Benjamin made it a rule to " pass " When a beggar held out his hat. And he knew he had never been " such an ass " As to part with a pound like that. The stranger had made a mistake, he knew, And he thought, '' Well, it's really fuimy That I should resemble a booby who Goes chucking away his money." " You haven't made any mistake by chance ? " Said he ; " for I'm bound to mention That I don't remember the circumstance To which you have called attention." 136 PUBLISHED VERSES " Oh, no," said the stranger; " I ne'er mistook A face in my life ; don't doubt it." " Well, I won't contradict you," said Mr. Rooke, " If you're perfectly sure about it. " But you've done the right thing, and I sha'n't forget Among all my friends to spread it ; You have come to discharge what you call a debt In a manner that does you credit." The stranger produced a well-filled book From a pocket inside his coat, And out of a pretty thick bundle took A brand-new five-pound note. " I haven't, I find to my great regret, Any smaller amoxmt," said he ; " But perhaps you will add to my j)revious debt By changing this note for me." So Benjamin Rooke the fiver took, And gave him the change in gold ; And he thought, as his hand the stranger shook, He never would loose his hold. " It's a good day's work that I've done," he said. " I couldn't have done a better ; And, believe me, although the amount I've paid, Yet still I remain yoiu- debtor." " Well, ' fools and their money,' " thought Mr. Rooke, As the stranger walked away ; " Yet I shouldn't have thought, by the fellow's look, He was such a coafounded 'jay.'" ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 137 So he went to his lunch, where a cosy place Was reserved for him near the fire ; And the head-waiter bowed when he saw the face Of Benjamin Rooke, Esquire. " No, I'd never have thovight he was such an ass ; For he looked like a man of sense," Said Benjamin Rooke, as he sipped his glass At his unknovra friend's expense. The stranger had paid for his lunch that day, So he made up his mind to " go it," And he ordered up, in a lordly way, An additional pint of Moet. He smiled when they handed to him the score, For somebody else defrayed it, And, by way of enjoying the joke still moro, With the stranger's note he paid it. But the satisfied smile forsook his brow In a very decided fashion, When the waiter came back to I'eport "as how This 'ere fi'-pim' note's a flash 'un ! " T/ie Christian World Magazine, Apeiij, 1888. 138 PUBLISHED VERSES ODE TO A MASHER. CHOICE product of a cultured age ! Fit tlieme to grace a poet's page Witli ode or lyric ! O Masher, may I make so free As humbly to indite to thee A panegyric ? What joy and pride thou dost impart To all who have an eye for art, O matchless Masher ! What happiness thou dost confer On tailor, hatter, shoemaker, And haberdasher ! Yet some there are whose sluggish sense Can e'en resist the effluence Of thy perfection ; Tea, some who unto all thy kind Can entertain a well-defined And strong objection. Such deadened souls — I know them well- Whene'er they meet thee in Pall Mall Or Piccadilly, Are wont to curl the scornful lip, And crack the senseless gibe and quip, And call thee silly. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 139 And urchins gi*eet tliee passing by With, " Ain't 'e got 'em on ? Oh, my ! " Or " Oo's yer 'atter P " Not that the comments or the jokes Of ignorant and vulgar folks Can greatly matter. The Yankees designate thee " dude," A term that sounds extremely rude, Although its history. And sense seem likely to remain, As far as I can ascertain, Involved in mystery. Oh ! I could gaze till crack of doom Upon thine exquisite costume In wonder ceaseless : Thy pantaloons so siiperfine That bag not at the knees like mine, Thy coat so creaseless. When'er I meet thee in the street I almost grovel at thy feet, Thy siDlendour seeing ; Yet there are things I fain would know, Could I presume to question so Superb a being. And first, O Masher, I am fain To ask thee where thou dost obtain Thy faultless raiment. Thy tailor's name confide to me. And, fm'ther, tell me what may be His terms of payment. 140 PUBLISHED VERSES And pray expound the reason why A collar so extremely high Thy neck's encased in. Its cut severe recalls the jar That Mr. Keiller's Dundee mar- malade is placed in. So white and bright, and round and tight, I do not doubt that it is quite Of style the acme ; But how thy throat endures the strain I can't conceive ; with frightful pain The thing would rack me. Good heavens ! to be trussed up like that The whole day long ! I shudder at The bare idea. Yet thou cans't smile and look at ease, Though there must be an awful squeeze On thy trachea. And why those spats of spotless hue, That half conceal thy pointed shoe Of patent leather ? It cannot be to warm thy feet, For thou dost wear them through the heat Of July weather. Perhaps to amateurs of dress Like thee, O Masher, they possess Their fascination ; But to the inexperienced eye They seem to spoil the set of thy Continuations. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 141 Wliy does thine eye that glass retain, Though not without apparent pain, From hour to hour P To aid thy eight 'tis not employed. For it is absolutely void Of optic power. Yet, though its merits are hut few, That glass can never make thy view Of objects hazier ; For very closely 'tis allied To that for window panes supplied By any glazier. Thy spacious, spotless, twelve-inch cufE Is worth exhibiting to pufE Some patent mangle ; But why beneath its ample fold Do my astonished eyes behold A golden bangle ? And is my confidence misplaced, That nature made that slender waist, That figure blameless ? Or dost thou don, as some declare, An article of female wear That shall be nameless ? How splendid is thy haughty air ! How dignified thy changeless stare ! How supercilious ! Tho' some, to see thine arching brow And languid eye, might think that thou Wert simply bilious. 142 PUBLISHED VERSES Intelligence, so prized by some, Is justly deemed by maslierdom A STiperflxTity ; And so we know that days and days Are spent in practising tbat gaze Of mere vacuity. For that inordinate respect Tbat once was paid to intellect Is fast receding. A fatuous and haughty stare Is now considered everywhere The height of breeding. O Masher, some in thee have foimd An argument on which to ground The faith Darwinian ; For clothe th' ancestral ape like thee. Thy very likeness it woiild be In their opinion. Oh ! let some famous sculptor strike From deathless stone thine image, like In form and feature ; Thy clothes, thy collar, cuif s, and hat, Thine eye-glass (oh, forget not that !), Thou precious creature ! That so the Antipodean* eye 'Mid London's wi-eck thy form may spy With wonder smitten ; And to a future age declare What sort of looking creatures were The sons of Britain. * Mficaulay's New Zealander, ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 143 And if to doubt he should begin What place thou occupiest in Creation's plan, Dame Nature, should she jiass that vray. Might usefully stand up and say, " This was a manP The Christian World Magazine, Mat, 1888. THE TALE OF A TIN BOX. A NOBLE house was Bantam Hall ; -^-*- A wealthy dame lived in it. Of temper short, of figure tall — Miss Anastasia Spinnett. Her youth was somewhat in ai-rears ; In fact, this maiden lady "Was on the side of fifty years Denominated " shady." The love of men she long had proved To be a vain delusion ; And now, from social life removed. She lived in strict seclusion. Her maiden heart no more inclined In masculine directions : On bipeds of another kind She lavished her affections. 144 PUBLISHED VERSES The cliicken-house at Bantam Hall Was elegant and spacious. Constructed "with a view to all Requirements gallinaceous. Her fowls were as a priceless gem To good Miss Anastasia ; She would have scorned to part with them For all the wealth of Asia. For they were of the finest breeds, And fit for king or caliph ; And well looked after were their needs By William Stubbs the bailiff. Now on a February morn The day was slowly breaking, When Stubbs the ciistomary com Was to the chickens taking. 'a* But when he came, he looked about. And muttered, " What the dickens " — A phrase he used when much put out — " Has got the Missus' chickens ? " Alas ! the finest fowls were gone. As Stubbs at once detected ; " Oh, how the Missus vAll take on ! " He ruefully reflected. Then wi-apt in thought with insight rare He quickly reached the bottom Of this mysterious affair : Says he, " It's thieves has got 'em ! " ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 145 He went within and told the tale : Miss Spinnett was distracted. But it were best to draw a veil Upon the scene enacted. And when her wrath had softened do-mi She reached the stage reflective : " Quick, William, ride into the town, And summon a detective." And soon Inspector Payne was there, A silent man and serious ; No word he uttered, and his air To Stubbs appeared mysterious. He poked about the fowl-house locks, Explored the nests and perches — At last a tin tobacco-box Rewarded his researches. For o'er the most expert of thieves There hangs a kind of nemesis, By which he generally leaves A something on the premises. Inspector Payne had found a clue, And though 'twas what he needed, Yet clues deceive, as no one knew More thoroughly than he did. The box was one that you might take And with a thousand mate it, For there was nought about its make To differentiate it. 10 146 PUBLISHED VERSES But one impoi-tant point was clear : The theft had been enacted By one whose criminal career Miist needs have been protracted. So Payne, without delaying aught. Or taking time to think, went In search of one who was, he thought. The probable delinquent. Elias Stokes, I'm boimd to own, Was one among the many Whose characters are called " woll-known," And yet they haven't any. The man was healthy, young, and strong. But dissolute and lazy. And his ideas of right and wi'ong Were lamentably hazy. The propei-ty of other folks To him was most attractive ; In its pursuit Elias Stokes Was very smart and active. He never tried to earn his bread By honest work and labour. And most of all he coveted The chickens of his neighbour. When Payne arrived, Elias knew The object of his visit — A thing he was accustomed to — But still he asked, " What is it ? " ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 147 And when he heard the charge preferred, His mien was limp and flabby, Although he swore he " knew no more Aboiit it than a babby." Before the Bench he had to go, But spite his best endeavour, Against Elias Payne could show No evidence whatever. Elias solemnly averred That stealing wasn't in him, And, though as guiltless as a bird, " The p'lice 'ad took agin 'im." But many times before that day The bench had seen Elias, And so against him, truth to say, They had a certain bias. So by his previous history The wretched man was stranded, And for a week in custody Elias was remanded. Now Payne had got a crafty plan — In dodges none covild match him — He knew Elias was the man, And he resolved to catch him. Six more that day upon the scene Had made their forced appearance, And of their pockets there had been The customary clearance. 148 PUBLISHED VERSES So Payne took all the things within, And on the table flung them, And artfully he placed the tin Tobacco-box among them. With manner unconcerned enough Inspector Payne inspected, "While each from out the heap of stuff His property selected. Poor Stokes was taken unaware — Without the least suspicion He picked the box up with an air Of sudden recognition. " Hullo, now ! none of that ! " said Payne, In brutal accents speaking ; " Now just you put it back again ; That box I saw you sneaking." " Why, Mr. Payne, it's mine, I swear ; I lost it somewheres, lately ; I bought it for a bob, sir — there ! — Last month, of Mr. Whateley." " Oh, yes ! " said Payne. " That's very fine ! You do know how to go it." Said Stokes, " Why, I can prove it's mine : I'll tell you how I know it. " Just underneath the lid there'll be A kind of S, just faint-like ; The knife it slipped, and so, you see, It's like, and yet it ain't like." ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 149 " Yes, there's the mark," said Payne, " I see ; Well, then you're sure about it ? " " I'll take my Bible oath," said he, " It's mine — you needn't doubt it." " "Well, I can tell you something more," Said Payne, his victim eyeing ; " That box inside the fowl-house door At Bantam Hall was lying ! " Elias looked like one distraught, And blank was his expression ; Then, feeling he was fairly caught. He made a full confession. And when he'd served upon the mill His fifteen months' hard laboui-. He did not cease to covet still The chickens of his neighbour. But now, whene'er at dewy eve He prowls around, you'll find him Extremely careful not to leave His property behind him. The Christian World Magazine, July, 1888. 150 PUBLISHED VERSES THE WAIL OF A WEARY M.P. YOU, whose short-siglited ambition Aspires to political fame, Give ear to an old politician "WTio knows all the moves of the game. There are no more detestable fetters, For one who's supposed to be free. Than the bondage implied in the letters — The coveted letters, " M.P." It's all very well for officials Who pocket five thousand a year, But for others the magic initials Are pm-chased uncommonly dear. Not to mention the cost of elections And endless subscriptions — ah, me ! — There are other more weighty objections To bemg a British M.P. Till they started the earlier closing We often till morning were kept ; And small were our chances of dozing, For, if for an instant we slept, We heard the division-bell tinkling To hinder us taking our ease — Oh ! believe me, you haven't an inkling Of the woes of unhappy M.P.s. Now it's certaruly very much better ; But still it's annoying, you know. When you're just in the midst of a letter, To hear the division-bell go. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 151 Whene'er you sit doAvii to yoiu- victuals, Interrupted you're certain to be ; So you see it's not all " beer and skittles," The Ufe of a British M.P. Then you probably come in collision With a Whip, when you're sneaking away ; *' We're expecting a tightish division ; I really must beg you to stay." So you can't get away when you want to, However fatigued you may be. And frequently not till it's gone two His home sees the weary M.P. When first you are sent to St. Stephen's You think you're a very big man ; Tou intend to redi-ess ev'ry grievance And do all the good that you can. Where'er there are wrongs, you will right 'em. Make ev'ry one happy and free — But you quickly become a mere item, A commonplace party M.P. Tou ask any number of questions. And badger the party in power ; You make the most useful suggestions. And often declaim by the hour. But it rather disturbs yoiir composm*e, In your finest oration, to see The Leader proposing the closui-e, That bane of the zealous M.P. You mean to obey your convictions. With conscience alone as youi- guide ; 152 PUBLISHED VERSES But you find there are certain restrictions — Tou never can tell till you've tried- It is useless to raise an objection : With yoiu' party you've got to agree ; Or you'll find at another election Yoiu- name will be minus " M.P." You must stick to youi* pai*ty allegiance Without hesitation or doubt, Though your mind be as blank as a Fijian's On what you are voting about. Though possessed of convictions undying, You rarely can vote as you please : It is often excessively trying For scnipulous-minded M.P.s. And then in the month oi September, Although it's the Autumn Recess, Little shooting you get, if a Member, For meetings you're bound to address. Away with your gun and youi* cartridges ! A hundred miles off you must be. You must give up your days with the partridges If you're an unhappy M.P. Then the chances are far more than " evens " That after the " Autumn Campaign " You have to be back at St. Stephen's, And go into harness again. Why, I've not had a chance at a pheasant, And now there's no hunting for me. Oh ! existence is not very pleasant For one who's a British M.P. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 153 Yes, tlie woi'st are these Sessions in autumn ; They're really a crying abuse. And lately they seem to have brought 'em As regular things into use. To St. Stephen's the Government drags you — It's useless attempting to flee — And there the majority gags you, And makes you a silent M.P. Autumn Sessions I call an iniquity, At Government's door to be laid ; A symptom of moral obliquity In those who resort to theii* aid. They encourage a wasting of time, Sir, In ever increasing degi-ees. They're a high constitutional crime, Sir ! An outrage on Britain's M.P.s. "Sa- lt's useless repining, however ; We must go, whether willing or not ; But for Ministers I shall endeavoui' To make it uncommonly hot. We shall be at Supply in Committee, With most of us wholly at sea : If you knew what it was, you would pity The weary and jaded M.P. It often has stmck me with wonder To think how we ever sui'vive ; How few of us seem to knock under. How many of us are alive. One would think, if we got thi'ough the rigoiu* Of the work, we should die of ennui ; But it shows what exceptional vigom* Must dwell in a British M.P. 154 PUBLISHED VERSES Then be warned by my pitiful story — Tliougli I very much, fear that you won't — You, who seek for political glory, Take Punch's wise counsel, and " Don't ! " Abandon your fond aspiration ; My friends, you may take it from me, That there's no greater fraud in creation Than the magical letters, " M.P." The Christian World Magazine, December, 1888. THE AMATEUR DETECTIVE. TTT HEN I was quite a little lad ' ' Of seven and a fraction, Detective stories always had For me a strange attraction. I used to bite my finger nails (Which met with sharp correction) While poring over thrilling tales Of crime and its detection. My small ambitious heart was fii'ed With dreams of futui-e glories ; I read and read and never tired Of those delightful stories ; And even then my infant mind Was made up, irrespective Of what my parents had designed, To be a great detective. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 155 I used to scare the parlour-maid And give the " dad " sui-prises By knocking at the door, aiTayed In various disguises. And as my early years unfold In vision retrospective, I see myself at eight years old An embryo detective. At school I had a valued friend, A certain local " bobby," And many a stolen hour I'd spend In talking of my hobby. In class my mind I could not fix On sui-d or conic section, Evolving artful schemes and tricks Of criminal detection. And as I gi-ew to man's estate I used to haunt the places Where rogues and thieves do congregate — I even went to races. But soon parental tyi-anny Applied a stem corrective To visions fond, that pictui-ed me A world-renowned detective. My father sent for me one day — The interview was stormy — He told me once for all that they Had other prospects for me. My threats his stubbornness increased. My prayers were ineffective, But I resolved to be, at least, An amateur detective. 156 PUBLISHED VERSES To yield to sucli decided views I deemed it only prudent ; And so at St. Bartholomew's I entered as a student. Soon came the chance that I had dreamed In days of deep dejection ; Great crimes occurred, and helpless seemed Professional detection. Crime stalked abroad unchecked ; I saw A golden opportunity. I swore I'd vindicate the law, And save the whole community. Policemen were at sea, because Theii' training was defective ; The thing distinctly wanted was An amateur detective. Ajid now at last I found the good Of all my childish reading ; For thanks to that I understood The method of proceeding. Of com-se you must be well disguised, To compass your objective ; Or else you might be recognised As being a detective. So, fii-st, you black youi- face with cai'e — Bui-nt cork's the best material — A false moustache of course you wear, And eke a false imperial. To don a coat would never do : Shirt-sleeves are more effective ; And none can then discern in you The vigilant detective. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 157 'Twas thus equipped I wandered wliere A crime liad been committed ; With stealthy and mysterious air About the place I flitted. I questioned men, and women too, In this and that dii'ection — For, if there's one thing I can do, It's amateui' detection. I skipped among them, staring hard Right into people's faces, And, just to take them off their guard, I made absurd giimaces. I meant to scare the guilty man And catch him unsuspecting — But people did not like my plan Of amateui'-detecting. '■o* They crowded round with aspect grim : I stood my ground unflinching. Then some one shouted out, " That's him ! ' And recommended lynching. They seized me, swore I'd done the crime. With loud and coarse invective. In vain I cried, " Good people, I'm An amateur detective." Though I endeavoured all I knew To show the mob theii- blunder. They came within an inch or two Of tearing me asunder. A horrible and ghastly scene Was clearly in prospective : In two more minutes there'd have been A stiff and stark detective. 158 PUBLISHED VERSES But two policemen clianced that way, And dragged me from their chitches. (For some time after, I may say, I went about on crutches.) Then to the station, one each side. They marched me for inspection. I told tiiem I was occupied In amateur detection. A brusque inspector put me through A searching inquisition ; Then in the cells without ado They locked me on suspicion. Next day my freedom I i-egained — Since then, upon reflection, I rather think my zeal has waned For amateur detection. T/ie Chrifttian World Magazine, Januak?, 1889. THE BRITISH JUROR. TT7"HEN first I took a house in town, ' ' To make me sad and gloomy My friend and neighbour, Thomas Brown, Explained my duties to me. He ended thus :— " The worst of woes That householders endure is The duty, which the laws impose, To serve on British juries." ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 159 " Nay, then," said I, " if that's the worst, 'Tis not what I was fearing ; It may be rather strange at first, But I am persevering. And what idea could be more grand, What aspiration purer, Than thus to sei-ve one's native land And be a British juror ? " I'd never been inside the Coui-ts, But I enjoyed perusing The daily papei's' law reports, And found them most amusing. I'd read of " scenes," of desperate men, And women wild with fury, Who struggled in the dock, and then Abused the judge and jiiry. I thought with glee that I should see Most interesting cases, And vowed the jury-box must be The pleasantest of places. But soon I knew the sober truth. And saw how premature is The notion of one's early youth Regarding British juries. I'd read how once a judge's wit Convulsed the Court with laughter. How counsel nearly had a fit For twenty minutes after ; But by the most complete of tests I've found there's nothing poorer Than such of these forensic jests As reach the British juror. 160 PUBLISHED VERSES I'll ne'er forget the case that first Came imder my decision ; A ship (of vessels most acciirsed) "Was sunk by a collision ; And some one sued a firm, who'd been So "weak as to insxu'e her — But what on earth they meant was clean Beyond the British jui-or. A host of sti*ange sea terms they used, And no suspicion harboured That most of us were quite confused, N'ot knowing " port " from " starboard." And when they read a di-eary log, The case grew still obscurer. Till they contrived to fairly fog The wretched British juror. And then, when we could not agree. The judge, a monster cruel, Just clapped us under lock and key. With neither food nor fuel. And after six long hours were past (How frail and insecure is A suitor's chance ! ), we tossed at last — A way with British juries. But infinitely worse than that, Much harsher, far absui-der My treatment was, when once I sat Upon a charge of murder. The progress of the case was slow : Perhaps 'twas all the siu-er : But it was nearly death, I know, To one unhappy juror. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 161 At fom- p.m., I grieve to tell, A bailiff came and took us, And at the Cannon Street Hotel Proceeded straight to book us. A man would surely have to be Of ills a rare endurer, To realise the misery Of an imprisoned juror. Eleven strangers ! and to be A week in their society ! Such imbeciles they seemed to me, I longed for some variety. I chafed and fumed, I raved and swore ; It put me in a fury ; The days dragged on, and more and more I loathed that British jury. The bailiff would not let me speak To any other creature ; In durance vile I passed the week With no redeeming feature. And every night he locked us up ; No felons wei'e secvirer. Oh, passing bitter is the cup Of an imprisoned juror. How I abhorred that gaoler grim ! Like convicts we were treated. And now, as I look back on him (I don't want this repeated), It would not grieve my soul at all, Nor should I weep or wail if Some dire disaster should befall That loathsome jury bailiff. 11 162 PUBLISHED VERSES Yes, Thomas Brown was right to quiz My foolish aspiration ; For serving on a jury is My pet abomination. My fond illusions all are o'er ; My judgment's now maturer ; If I can help it, never more I'll be a British juror. I'm now as crafty as a fox, And oft, without suspicion, I have escaped the jury-box By feigned indisposition. A doctor in my room's installed. And I am swathed in flannel. Whene'er I hear that I've been called Upon a jury-panel. It isn't quite the thing, I know ; The fraud is undeniable ; But when they treat a jui-y so, I think it justifiable. It's all the system that's at fault : I don't know what the cure is, But statesmen, if they're worth their salt, Should think of British juries. T/ie Christian World Magazine, March, 1889. ^\j \^x^-\^-^,\^-^y-\^v ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 163 BRIBERY AND CORRUPTION! OR, THE COMIC COMPANION TO THE CORRUPT PRACTICES ACT. \Tvh\ishedi with Six Engravings.'] " Xo payment or couti-act for payment shall ... be made on account of bands of music, torches, flaws, banners, cockades, ribbons, or other marks of distinction." — iQ and 47 Vict. cap. 51, section 16. Penalty, on summary convictioii, a fine not exceeding one hundred pounds. — Ibid, section 21. THE DRAPER'S DILEMMA. " rp WO dozen blue rosettes at nine and half is nineteen sliillings. "WTiat else, nmni, can I show yon? — I've a novelty in frillings — Ten yards of satin ribbon ? Thank you — ^yes, mum, charming weather — Nineteen and seven — one pound six and six, mum, altogether. Is there nothing else this morning ? " Quoth the lady, " Nothing more," As she picked the parcel up and moved serenely to the door. 164 PUBLISHED VERSES " Stay, madam ! " cried tlie shopman. " You'll excuse me if I say Oui* terms are strictly cash, mum, and you've quite forgot to pay." "Not at all, I never meant to pay," the lady said demxu'ely, " It's against the law to do so — you're aware of that sir, sui'ely." " You never meant to pay," the shopman cried, " for what you bought ? " " Of course not," answered she ; " I never harboured such a thought. I think," she added, sweetly, "that the law is rather hard on An entei-prising tradesman, and I really beg your pardon ; If it weren't for the Election, I would pay you in a minute. But, as it is, of course, I can't — you see, there's danger in it." " And you call yourself a lady ? " cried the shopman, in a passion, " To go and swindle honest folks in this here sort of fashion ! But it won't succeed with me — I'm up to these shop- lifting tricks, And I tell you straight I mean to have my one pound six and six. So you'd better pay up quickly, or I'U fetch a bobby " " Stop, man ! " The lady cried. " Remember, I'm a lady, you a shopman ! And ere you stigmatise me as a shifty or ' shoplifty ' one, ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 165 Read Forty-six and Forty-seven Yictoria, Chapter Fifty-one. I've got a copy witt me, and if you have no objection, I'll read the words— let's see, oh ! here it is — the 16th section — ' No payment shall be made for hands of music, torches, flags. Banners, 7'ibbons, or cocTcades ' — or other emblematic rags. So you see that if I paid the sum for which you are a claimant, I should incur the penalty for an • Illegal Payment.' And you, my friend, would share the crime, and run the risk that I did ; You, too, would get the pimishment the statute has provided. I need not say that it would be to me a real affliction To see you fined a hundred pounds on summary conviction. I trust that this will lead your mind to serious reflections ; It's well that you should know the law relating to elections ; And when folks come for ribbons— let this be a timely warning — Don't let them pay for what they buy : it isn't safe. Good morning ! " \ ^/^W> ^V/V^v^Hu^v 166 PUBLISHED VERSES "No payment or contract for payment shall ... be made on account of the conveyance of electors to or from the poll." — 4i6 and 47 Vict. cap. 51, section 7. Penalty, on summary conviction, a fine not exceeding one hundred pounds, — Ibid, section 10. A CAUTION TO CABMEN. "rpHANK yoii, cabman," said tlie gentleman; -*- " we've liad, upon tlie whole, A pleasant ride enough, and now we're all in time to poU. It's better far than walking in the slush ; although, of course, I can't commend your taste in the selection of a horse. I don't like ostentation, for a man's a fool who swaggers, But I do prefer a horse that isn't sufreriug from staggers, It's an interesting question whether, ere that horse deceases. The wheezy vehicle you call a cab will fall to pieces. And then, you know, your harness is unutterably shabby ; Still, on the whole " "My fare is 'arf a crown," remarked the cabby. " Still, on the whole, I won't complain, for rare indeed my fate is To get a lift of any sort for such a distance gratis. And, cabman, you've a vote — I hope you'll poll for Mr. Brown." The cabman answered nothing but " My fare is 'arf a crown." ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 167 " You made the same remark before," severely said the gent, As from his pocket he produced an Act of Parliament. " Why, man, you surely are aware that this is polling day, And consequently, it's against the law for us to pay. Consid'ring its importance to a person of your calling, Tour ignorance of statute-law is really quite appalling. You ought to read and ascertain what Parliament has done By Forty-six and seven Victoria, Chapter Fifty-one. You don't appear to know at all how very strict the Act is — What punishment it has assigned for each Illegal Practice. You've never heard about it, I suppose, but I (thank Heaven !) Have got a copy with me, and I'll read you section seven. ^ No payment shall he made for the conveyance of electors Either to or from the poll ' — you see how much those words affect us. We're both of us electors — so I fear you're in a hole ; For it's clear you can't be paid for our conveyance to the poll. I sympathise sincerely with a man in your position. And as a friend I'll give you just one parting admonition. When gentlemen engage your cab on polling day, much safer it Will be to see beforehand that they're qualified to pay for it. Such payment by electors, mind, a criminal offence is : Both you and they are liable to awkward consequences. The fine's a hundi-ed pounds, you know, if you should be convicted — 168 PUBLISHED VERSES I say, that horse appears to me most seriously afficted ; The shafts are pretty solid, and it's just as -well, perhaps ; For if it weren't for their support, I'll wager he'd collapse. And, by the bye, perhaps you want another job, my man; So, if you'd like to di-ive us back this afternoon, you can. Don't fear that I shall pay your fare and get you into ti'ouble ; I wouldn't think of doing so — not if the f ai-e was double ! No thanks, I beg ; believe me that I feel a real enjoy- ment In doing what I can to give the unemployed employ- ment. Let's see, what time ? The roads ai-e so abominably dirty. That it will be a stiflish pull — suppose we say 5.30 ? We'll meet you at the Crown Hotel ; perhaps we may be late — We've got so many things to do — if so, of course you'U wait. You'll see us — what ? Ah yes, of coiu'se, you'll see us at the Crown At half -past five. Ta-ta, my friend; I hope you'll vote for Brown." ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 169 THE WORKING MAN'S WOES. " T^OU'YE come to get your wages ? Well, I miicli -*- regret to say, You really can't be paid, my men.because its Polling-day. I'll sLiow you in a minute, if you'll give me your attention, That you are clearly victims of a grave misappreliension. In asking for your wages, my deluded friends, you make "Wliat, in tlie circumstances, is a natural mistake. In former days the law was lax, and so at most elections The money used, as you're aware, to fly in all directions ; The longest purse was pretty svu'e of winning in a canter. But times are changed — as some one puts it, tempora mutantur. (Excuse my inadvertent use of classic phrase : I know it's A shocking habit that I have of quoting Latin poets.) Now, at elections, if a man distributes money libere. Or liberally, as we say, they run him in for bribery. The good old times are gone, and we may well say Transit gloria ! Since Chapter Fifty-one of Forty-six and seven Yictoria, That Act was passed expressly for the purpose of defeating All Practices Corrupt, and chiefly bribery and treating. And, though it's not so clearly wrong as giving beer or whisky, It seems that paying wages to a voter's rather risky. It's not expressly stated in the Statute's various sections, But you'll see the matter well discussed in ' Rogers on Elections.' I find, upon referring to that learned wi-iter's pages. That it's dangerous on PoUing-day to pay yom- men their wages. 170 PUBLISHED VERSES Tliat is, if they're electors ; for, of course, if you were not, I hardly need observe that I would pay you like a shot. It's true, the point is doubtful, but one cannot be too wary; "We're all so apt to make mistakes — humanum est errare. At any rate, whatever the intention of the Act is, I don't propose to run the risk of an Illegal Practice. And if you don't believe my word, but go and ask the boss, you must Expect, I tell you plainly, to be once for all 'non possumus'd ' — You don't quite understand that phrase historic and oracular : ' It simply can't he done ' conveys its force in the vernacular. I'm rather glad to have the chance of bringing to your notice, How doubtful an advantage the possession of a vote is. And now, my friends, vamose the ranch — cundiim est, in Latin : This room is hardly big enough, you see, to swing a cat in; And though, of coui'se, your company is singularly pleasant, Tour room would be, if possible, more welcome just at present. I very much regi-et I can't accede to your entreaty, And so I wish you both Good-day — as Terence says, 'Valeter' ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 171 " A person shall not let, lend, or employ for the purpose of the conveyance of electors to or from the poll . . . any carriage, horse, or other animal which he keeps or uses for the purpose of letting out for hire." — 40 and 47 Vict. cap. 51, section 14. Penalty, a fine iwt exceeding one hundred pounds. — Ibid, section 10. WANTED— A LIFT. " ll I, Guv'nor ! lialf a moment : will you take me in -*-'- your trap, And drive me into town? You see I've had a slight mishap. I can't imagine how it was, but something broke the gu-th, And in a trice I found myseLE saluting mother earth. It's clear that I can never catch the mare without assistance : She's galloping away like mad — you see her in the distance. It's just a bit disheartening to see youi' horse skedaddle, While you are landed in the road with nothing but the saddle. Youi- passing at the moment was most lucky, on the whole, For otherwise I never should have been in time to poll. I've come an awful distance, and to register my vote I'm Most anxious, and that nag of yom-s will run us up in no time. I'll put the saddle in behind, and jump up in a second " " Hold hard ! " remarked the publican. " Without your host you've reckoned. 172 PUBLISHED VERSES It's very well for you to say you're quite prepared to nip in, And ride -svith me to town, but I've a voice in that, my pippin. Of coui'se, if it was lawful, I would take you like a bii-d, But there's a difficulty which to you has not occurred. Tou see you've got to know the law, when you'i'e in my profession ; They're always passing Acts for us — a new 'un every Session. I always keep 'em by me, and the number of 'em's awful ; Why, bless yom- heai-t ! I've got at home, I do believe, a draw'full. Of coui'se you haven't learnt the law, and you can do without it ; But if you care to listen, I can tell you all about it. Tou see, it's all along of them teetotal chaps, that made, In '83 — I think it was— a dead set on the trade. They hated seeing voters at elections taking beer, And Parliament was somehow got to come and interfere ; And so they passed a statute, by Her Majesty's dii'ections. To put a stop to bribery and treating at elections ; And into it they put a lot of idiotic clauses, Which show you what the ignoi-ance of those who make the laws is. Now one of these refers to traps, I think it's Section foui-teen, I'd like to know the fool who put a clause of such a sort in: ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 173 ' JVo horse or trap that's hept for hire shall be employed to taJce A voter to or from the poll ' — and if the law you break, The magistrates will quickly on youi* wheel apply the skid: On summary conviction you'll be fined a hundred quid. And so not only mayn't you stand a glass to e'er a soul, But you mustn't give a friend a lift to take him to the poll. Although the horse and cart's your own : this law you must admit is an Outrageous interference with the freedom of a citizen. Still, I'm a law-abiding man, as any one on earth, And so I always try to give the ' beaks ' a widish berth : They're kittle cattle, no mistake — I don't know any kittler ; And if they're down on any man, it's on a licensed victualler. And so, you see, I musn't do the service you require Because I keep this horse and trap for letting out on hu'e. You'll have to foot it, and, you know, you're young and in your prime — I shouldn't be at all surprised if you got there in time. It's quite a tidy distance, and I mustn't stop and talk. And so I'U say ' Good afternoon ' — I hope you'll like your walk." 174 PUBLISHED VERSES No refreshment of any kind must be allowed in the Com- mittee Eoom." — Edge and Hardy's Practice of Elections, p. 73. THE COMMITTEEMAN'S COMPLAINT. " IVr^^ 3^^^^ ^ little wee bit more," the fond wife kept •^ ' entreating, "Remember you'll be twelve long liovu's without a chance of eating. I do declare, I'm quite afraid you'll die of inanition Before the day is done — Jemima, put that other dish on, And take away the empty ones. Now do, my dearest Tom, let Me give you just a tiny bit of this delicious omelette." " No, no, my dear," the victim cried; " I simply cannot do it; Too much I've eaten, as it is — I fear that I shall rue it. You mustn't think me wanting in politeness or in honhomie. But it's beyond the limits of my physical economy. Tou don't appear to realise what I've already taken — A mutton chop, two sausages, and twice of eggs and bacon, Besides the haddock and the ham, and last, not least, the marmalade, Which, I've been solemnly assured, digestion like a charm'U aid. And then, you know, there's nothing like the oft replenished tea-cup For filling each unoccupied recess of one's physique up. It's x^ossible that if I were a generation younger, I still might feel, or think I felt, a lingering spark of hunger. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 175 I remember, I remember — ab ! I never sball forget it — Wben I was young and greedy — if I liked a tbing I ate it. Ab ! tben I was unconscious of tbe process of digestion, And wbetber tbings agreed witb me I never used to question. Wbenever any disb was brougbt, to wbicb I cbanced to cotton, Tbe tbings I'd previously consumed were instantly forgotten ; Tbe feeling of repletion vanisbed when I saw my favourite, No matter wbat I'd bad before, I managed to make way for it. Alas ! tbose days are gone, and tbongb I tbink I'm just as greedy, I cannot eat as once I did, because it makes me seedy. Already at my waist I feel a cbeck upon my appetite, My waistcoat seems too small for me — wby ever did I strap it tigbt ? So take away tbat omelette. As I said before, my lass, it is A tbing tbat's quite beyond my alimentary capacities." " Do make an effort," urged bis wife, " for I sbould be so cut up If bungry you sbould feel before tbe polling bootb is sbut up. You're not allowed a morsel of ref resbment — tbat's tbe mandate — Till eigbt o'clock to-nigbt, my dear — I'm sure you'll never stand it. Of course, I'm very anxious for our candidate to get in, But all tbe same I tbink tbat you've decidedly been let in ; 176 PUBLISHED VERSES I wouldn't work for such a man — I'd very quickly quit him, an Ungrateful wi-etch, forbidding food and drink to his Committee-man ! To keep you stai-ving there from 8 a.m. to ditto p.m. ! They wouldn't play such tricks on me, I should juat like to see 'em — Trust me, I'd teach them pretty sharp to mind their stops and commas, Now do just make an effort : try and eat for my sake, Thomas ! " " No, no, my dear, I simply couldn't take another scrap ; Remember, I've already, as the Yankees say, ' gone Nap.' I think you really ought to let me off that omelette, when you Consider calmly what it means to go thi'ough such a menu ; You've noticed that I haven't missed a solitary dish, And on the top of all I've put the final layer of * squish,' In point of fact, you've stuffed me so that I can hardly speak — I do believe I've had enough to last me for a week ! And as to no refreshments in Committee-rooms, you see. They passed a law about such things in 1883. The Act might well upon this point be clearer and expliciter, But still in the opinion of oui' candidate's solicitor, Refreshments in Committee-rooms are dangerous; in fact, he says That it would probably be classed among Illegal Practices. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 177 Good gracious ! why, it's nearly eight — I haven't got a minute ; Here, quick, my coat ! I doubt if I shall get my body in it. I say, just look, dear, at my nose — I think I've got a smut on it. No ? Very well — oh ! look at this ; I knew I couldn't button it, And only yesterday I thought how loose the coat had got. I must be there before it strikes. "We have to poll a lot The moment that the polling booth is open ; they're to bring 'em At eight o'clock precisely — where the dickens is my gingham ? Oh, thanks. Now I must say ' Good bye ' ; I'm in an awful hurry — Oh, I shall get along all right, my dear — you needn't worry. And, by the bye, I sha'n't want any supper, love, to- night — Why did I strap this waistcoat so abominably tight ? " Ig 178 PUBLISHED VERSES " Every elector who . . . accepts or takes any meat, drink, entertainment, or provision shall be guilty of treating." — 4C and 17 Vict. cap. 51, section 1. Penalty, imprisonment, with or without hard, labour, for a term not exceeding one year, or a fine not exceeding two hundred pounds. — Ibid, section 6. SONG OF THE STARVING ELECTORS. TXTE'RE a body of starving electors — ' ' Thoxigli it isn't much, body we own ; YoiT might easily take us for spectres, Except that we show every bone. We're simply exhausted by famine, And as lean as a mummy Egyptian ; If we had but the chance, we could cram in A meal of the squarest description. It's all on account of a measure. That in '83 Parliament passed — I supi^ose it was Heaven's displeasure At people neglecting to fast. Or perhaps it was done by the Caucus, At any rate this is a fact — When we want to get victuals they baulk us With this new Corrui)t Practices Act. It comes down with the swoop of an eagle On all who commit any kind Of Practice Corrupt or Illegal — They're promptly imprison'd or fined. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 179 I don't want to do what's unlawful, Such a thing never entered my head ; But the hardship is something too awftd, For the Act says we're not to be fed. Its meaning in places is hidden, But one thing is clear on the whole- Feeding voters is strictly forbidden Before, at, or after the poll. " No person shall give entertainment To voters " — most plainly it speaks — Under pain of a speedy arraignment Before Quarter Sessional " beaks." This Statute prevents all collisions And conflicts of law and of fact ! For it gives us, by way of provisions. No others but those of the Act. So, simply because I'm a voter, My weight is reduced to a feather ; I can't get so much as a bloater To keep soul and body together. And my body's so wasted with pining, I scarcely can crawl to the poll ; If it goes on at this rate declining, I shall shortly be nothing but soul ! The law's so severe against treating, I sha'n't be surprised if in time A Statute is passed to make eating Of any description a crime, 180 PUBLISHED VERSES Perhaps what I'm saying is treason, And maybe I ought to be shot ; But I should like to know what's the reason Why pigs may eat, voters may not. To phtmp for McPhamish they ask us, But its famishing makes us so slim. And McPhamish I'll see at Damascus Before I go voting for him. If this is the good of the franchise, To attenuate one at this rate ; Tou can't be surprised if a man shies At such a deplorable fate. A vote isn't all beer and skittles, Though folks talk so grandly about it ; And if it's to cut off oui* victuals, I think we are better without it. It's possible I may survive it, With the good constitution I've got ; But if jon should ask me my private Opinion, I rather think not. If I ever get through this election — A thing that remains to be proved — I've resolved, after careful reflection, From the register I'll be removed. I've no wish, at St. Stephen's a hero, The country's affairs to arrange, And although a political zero, M.J figure will gain by the change. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 181 My pathway in life will be brightened When this horrible franchise I lose ; I shall no more be free and enlightened, But at least I shall eat when I choose. I shall merrily sit at my dinner, When future elections take place ; And notice the voters grow thinner In body, and paler in face. With a sigh of relief I shall look back, In comfort possessing my soul, At the time when, with limp knee and crook back, I wearily crawled to the poll. ^\>^' %.'vx>^vy~vy v>^ y PADDY'S REFLECTIONS ON THE FOURTH OF JULY. I I URROO, my brave boys, for the glorious Fourth, *^^ When the bloodthirsty Britisher fled from oui shore— Or was it the South that was bate by the North — It's meself that don't know — but I'll shout all the more. It's the day that relased us from tyranny's bond, That made ivery one aiqual, a man and a brother ; For Freedom dwells only on this side the " pond," And divil a bit have they got on the other. 182 PUBLISHED VERSES If a gintlenian lieve uses pistol or rifle- As gintlemen should, when it comes to a pinch — They make no commotion about such a trifle — That's barrin' that murtherin' blackguard, Judge Lynch. But out f/iere if we'd taken such harmless divarsion, As some of us have, they would surely have hung us, An' if we had stayed there — I'll make the assartion — Bedad, there'd be divil a whole neck among us. There yc can't shoot the land-thief that lives by your labom's ; An' shi;re an' it's ivery thrue Irishman's right ; But Tiere if we suffered the same wi-ongs, bejabers. We'd pepper the thievin' ould haythen on sight. ifere we're all of us free an' enlightened electors : Om* votes have their price, tho', begorrah, it's small ; But the tyrants out there, at the polls would reject us, An.' divil a vote would they give us at all. Then, hurroo, my brave boys, for the land of the free, Where we all have a fair chance our dollars to win, So long as we shut out the Haythen Chinee, And sind back the immigrant paupers agin. An' it's pleasant to-night, boys, whin business is done, We'll empty our glasses and fill up our pipes, An' cursin' the Saxon, thank God, ivery one. That we live in the land of the Stars and the Sthi'ipes. The, Was-g, San Francisco, Saturday, July 7th, 1883. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 183 MY CONFESSION. /~\H, shade of Gi'eat Edward, yclept the Confessoi' ! — ^-^ I trow you're the party to whom to address a Request for assistance — look downward with ruth On a very ill-used and unfortunate youth, On the point of inscribing — a gross indiscretion — In a young lady's album his so-called Confession. Ai-e Confessions supposed with oui* secrets to deal, Or merely, like language, oiu" thoughts to conceal ? The safer result to achieve is the latter ; At any rate, that is my view of the matter : Experience teaches that one may be landed In great complications by being too candid. And my character, too ! I must try to maintain it, For " littera scripta " — ^the poet says — " manet." Some Confessions attempt to be witty, some serious : In either event they may easily weary us. For when a man tries, and yet fails to be witty. There's not a more suitable object for pity. I suppose I must vsrite, so as not to seem dense, Lots of nonsense and just a suspicion of sense. But the questions I'm asked ! a most awkward selection. That amoimts to a species of moral dissection ; Though fortimately for ingenuous youth, The last thing one needs to consider is truth. My ideal of womanwood ? Heavens ! — what a question ! " The book's owner " is rather a hackneyed suggestion > Yet how in one line to describe, as I ought to, A theme that would fill up a volume in quarto ! Then who in the world is my f avom-ite hero ? Is it Wellington, Hannil^al, Turpin, or Nero P— 184 PUBLISJIED VERSES My modesty tells me to put on the shelf The natural impulse to answei', " Myself " ! Am I a believer in love at first sight ? And do I think girls to propose have a right ? Has love had the power my bosom to soften ? And if that's the case, will I please state how often ? As if I were such a quintessence of meekness As to publish the record of every weakness ! My f avoiu-ite study ? My pet occupation ? My f avom-ite animal ? proverb ? quotation p My favom-ite novelist ? orator P poet ? Pet flower p Pet colour ? Pet everything p Blow it ! TUl I throw down the pen, with my brain in a whirl. And say, in my heart of hearts, " Deuce take the girl ! " My mind is distracted, my senses opprest, I'm wi'inging my hands, and I'm beating my breast ; I'm pacing my room in the wildest despair, And the carpet is covered with handf uls of hair ; I write down all manner of di-ivelling inanity, And feel in a state of incipient insanity. Yes, such is, fair tyi-ant, the plight of your victim. And such are the tortures with which you afflict him. In fact, all who ever have gone through the ordeal Will say, with conviction most lively and cordial. Of all artful methods of female oppression There's nothing to equal the Book of Confession. Life, January 21, 1886, ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 185 THE BRIEFLESS BRIGADE. TN the days of my fii-st juvenility, "■- I was imcler the foolish impression That, given hard work and ability. The Bar was a splendid profession ; But from New Year's Day to December, For years not a penny I made, And now I'm a permanent member Of the Barristers' Briefless Brigade. For nobody gave me a brief — 'Twas in vain that I waited and prayed For a chance to examine a witness in chief — I was one of the Briefless Brigade ! Six guineas I paid for my wig, And the rest of my outfit proportionate ; The prices appeared to me big, Some people would call them extortionate. Then my Call-fee, some ninety-five guineas — In these times of commercial depression ! Oh, the way to get rid of your " tin " is To start in the legal profession ! Each morning expecting a brief, In my chambers I patiently stayed, And cherished a wholly delusive belief Of escaping the Briefless Brigade. I looked so surpassingly learned When my legal apparel I set up, I fancied that any attorney'd Be struck with my general get-up. 186 PUBLISHED VERSES My wig was so gracefully curled, As I gazed in the glass I decided, That no Bar-at-law in the world Ever looked so bewitching as I did. So, fearful of missing a brief, Over luncheon I never delayed, And none would have thought, as I bolted my beef, I was one of the Briefless Brigade. I thought I'd get plenty of practice, But I've come to another conclusion, For the plain, undeniable fact is The Bar is a snare and delusion. No matter how well you may know law, The necessity seldom arises ; The right thing to know is a " solor " "Who'll give you a chance at Assizes. But nobody gives me a brief ; My learning I've never displayed ; 'Pon my honour, it fairly surpasses belief How I stick to the Briefless Brigade. To Sessions, a quarterly visitor, I jom-ney with steady persistence; Biit ah ! not a single solicitor Seems cognisant of my existence. I travel to all the Assizes, The wearisome round of the circuit, But the other men get all the prizes — I sliould like to know how they work it. For nobody gives me a brief. Though I feel I simply was made For conducting the crafty defence of a thief, And not for the Briefless Brigade. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 187 I'm not wanting, I know, in audacity, I flatter myself, too, that few men Surpass me in easy loquacity, Or legal research and acumen. I passed my exams, in a canter ; Of law I'm a walking miscellany ; I can draw the distinction instanter Between misdemeanour and felony. If for once they would give me a brief. Of its stiffness I'd not be afraid : What matters the prospect of coming to grief ? Better that than the Briefless Brigade. But the prisoners now are so few ; As I see the decrease I'm perplexed ; Whatever are (^Jounsel to do ? And what are we coming to next ? We shall soon be an unkno^vn variety — It's merely a question of time, Unless somebody starts a society For the better promotion of crime. I wish I could just get a brief, Ere into oblivion we fade ; And then I would drift to the sere, yellow leaf But not of the Briefless Brigade. What with Exeter Hall and Good Templars, Blue Ribbons and Total Abstaining, And such like perfidious examplars, The crime of the country is waning. 188 PUBLISHED VERSES It's awful to see men and women all Ever more and more widely tlie drink shun ; The class we denominate " criminal " Is in danger of speedy extinction. There won't fee such a thing as a brief, There won't be any fees to be paid, And when matters have reached such a pass, I'd as lief Belong to the Briefless Brigade. So now I've resolved upon tossing The law and its works to perdition ; A good metropolitan crossing Is the aim of my present ambition : Or I'll take off my wig and my gown, The garb emblematic of Counsel, And walk through the streets of the town. An itinerant vendor of groundsel. For nobody gives me a brief, And the Bar is a ruinous trade ; I shall shortly be asking for parish relief For I'm one of the Briefless Brigade ! Lije, April S, 1886, ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 189 "VICS" ET PR^TEREA NIHIL. " jyiCS" et Prseterea NiMH According to one of my correspondents, tlie new Servian Cabinet is composed as follows : — Again at Servia's helm is Garaslianin, And faith, she couldn't put a better man in. " Old hand in Parliament," and full of tricks, In choosing colleagues, to one rule he sticks. And asks from each one of his trusted six The shiblioleth of entrance, namely " vies " ; So concord in his Cabinet he fixes, By having none biit homogeneous " vicses." When quarrels with her neighbours Servia picks, She look to General Horvatovics ; To guard the halfpence and to get the kicks, Devolves upon Monsieur Mijatovics. And you, good Colonel, public works must fix, They mus'n't topple over, Topalovics. To guard the Church, and punish heretics, Refuse you couldn't, could you, Kujudvics ? While in the field of foreign politics None takes you for an ass, Franassovics ! To deal with justice one should be prolix — Learn, then, to sling more ink, Marinkovics Great Garashanin shepherds up the six. And sees that none shall kick against the pricks ; Discordant elements he shuns to mix. All have one end in common— namely, " vies." A Cabinet of six harmonious " vicses " Can surely never be at sevens and sixes ! Life, April 15, 188G. 190 PUBLISHED VERSES GOOSE AND GANDER. "1 TR. A. A. POLLARD, a Tipperary clotliier, has -'-'-''- wi-itten to Mr. Gladstone to say tliat, as an ardent admirer of liis transcendent genius, lie has placed a bust of the right hon. gentlemen in front of his establishment. It is, he adds, a small indication of the esteem in which Mr. Gladstone is held by the matchless sons of gallant Tipperary. Mr. Gladstone replied as follows : — Dear Sir, — I am truly sensible of the honour you have done me, and I beg you to accept my acknow- ledgment. — Tour very faithful servant, W. E. Gladstone. Oh, now may I contented die, And say my 'Nunc Dimittis ; So long I've pined true joy to find. And now I know what it is. A bust of me, for all to see, In situation airy. Is set before a tailor's door In dear old Tipperary. My rival, who was made an earl, Stands opposite the Abbey, And with " goatee " and foppish curl. Looks imderbred and shabby. But there he's one among a score Of statesmen, soldiers, sailors ; I hold the field, alone, before That Tipperary tailor's. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 191 How nice the tailor's letter, too ! How free and independent ! How true his view of what is due To " genius transcendent " ! False modesty he proudly shuns. In praises never chary, " The matchless sons," his letter ri:js, " Of gaUant Tipperary." Sneer, dukes and earls ! But common folks Will laugh not with, but at you ; And all your gibes and vapid jokes Will never budge my statue. The lordly scoffer I defy, And spiu'n the ducal railer, As long as I am honoured by My Tipperary tailor. The classes in their jealous pride Give me the shoulder chilly ; But well I know, whate'er betide, The masses love their Willie, And spite of dukes, and earls, and lords, WTiose star is growing paler, The People's heart goes out towards That Tipperary tailor. I fain would raise a hymn of praise, A I'hapsody Homeric ; But Erin's sons (the artless ones !) Would deem the thing hysteric. They care not for Homeric lore, And I must really di'op " shop " Now that my image stands before A Tipperary slop-shop. 192 PUBLISHED VERSES How sweet tlie zeal of partisans, When one is feeling " collared " ! An old man's heart — a grand old mau's- Is grateful, Mr. Pollard. Oh, may thy shadow ne'er grow less. Thy body never frailer ! My dying words thy name shall bless, Thoii Tipperary tailor ! The Globe, January 25, 1887. LABBY IN OUR ABBEY- OF all the Rads that are so smart, There's none like witty Labby ; He's played of late a leading part, So he'll be at the Abbey ; No institution in the land Escapes the sneers of Labby, But all the same, I understand, He's going to the Abbey. Of all the days within the week. There's one that will be the day, And that's the day that's quite unique, Yictoria's Jubilee Day. Then he'll be dressed all in his best With nothing old or shabby : He may be snarling in his heart, But he'll be at the Abbey. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 193 He tried to dock the vote, you know, For fitting up the Abbey ; Perhaps he'd like the Qiieen to go And hail the nearest cabby ; All sentiment for England's Queen He designates as "flabby; " But Truth must needs describe the scene, So he'll be at the Abbey. The Globe, June 20, 1887. THE NEW OBADIAHS. The Grand Old Man and His Faithful FoUoiver. QAID the old William Ewart to the young Halley ^ Stewart, " Do you fancy, Halley Stewart, you'll get in ? " Said the young Halley Stewart to the old William Ewart, " My Committee, William Ewart, say I'll win. But there's one unlucky circumstance I deeply deplore, I was beaten last election rather worse than before ; Home Rule don't seem to prosper, and I feel more and more That our platform, William Ewart, 's rather thin." 13 194 PUBLISHED VERSES Said the yoxmg Halley Stf^wart to the okl "William Ewart, " Things are looking iiretty had for ns, yon know." Said the old William Ewart to the yonng Halley Stewart, " I'm afraid, Halley Stewart, that is so. The time is getting on, and though I'm grand, yet I'm old. And the men I used to count upon have all left the fold: I manage in the country to appear pretty bold, But I'm feeling, Halley Stewart, rather low." Said the old "VYilliam Ewart to the young Halley Stewart, " TeU me what you think of Ti*yon, I entreat." Said the young HaUey Stewart to the old William Ewart, " He's like the British lion, bad to beat. The voters seem to like him, and though straight from his ship. When he takes a thing in hand he qiiickly gets a thorough gi'ip." Said the old William Ewart, "Many thanks for the tip, I sha'n't back yo\i, Halley Stewart, for the seat." Said the young Halley Stewart to the old William Ewart, " Old England doesn't cotton to Home Rule." Said the old William Ewart to the young Halley Stewart, " These English I'm determined I will school." ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 195 Said tlie young Halley Stewart, " Don't yon think it would be well, I£ against the Irish faction we were all to rebel ? " Said the old William Ewart, " Give offence to Parnell ! You are talking, Halley Stewart, like a fool." Said the old William Ewart to the you^ng Halley Stewart, " I'll telegraph to you on polling-day." Said the young Halley Stewart to the old William Ewart, " Do nothing of the sort, I beg and pray. For wherever you sent telegrams and post-cards, it was queer. How our candidates were always beaten hopelessly last year." Said the old William Ewart, " Well, from all I can hear. You'll be beaten, Halley Stewart, any way." [Bid lie ivasn't !] Boston Independent, June 25, 1887. ^t'\r\^\j'\j\^\y\.r\y\j\^\jr\J'\j\. A HAIR-BREADTH 'SCAPE. "jtiTR. HEALY excitedly complained to the Court -^'-'- that he had been twice pointed at with a bayonet, and had narrowly escaped with his life. — Daihj Paper. O DEED of infamy untold ! The times must be disjointed, When at a form of patriot mould A bayonet twice is pointed. 196 PUBLISHED VERSES 'Tis true, the bayonet did no more Than point at him, but natliless, We ask, remembering Gweedore, How did be come off scatheless ? He pointed once, did Colonel D., A rifle all unloaded, And straightway (teste Mr. G.) He nearly shot his foe dead. And yet this murdei'ous device, This dread unloaded rifle, Beside a bayonet pointed tvnee Was sui-ely but a trifle. Well may we, dumb with horror, gape. Not knowing what to say on it. Astounded at the hairbreadth 'scape From that insidious bayonet. The Globe, Janxjaet 29, 1889. THE BUSY B. TTOW doth the little busy B, J--*- Improve the wi-iter's power Of setting forth the infamy Of Arthur J. Balfoui- ! ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 197 The big, big D, of coui'se, is good And useful in a manner ; But it's considered coarse and rude — Except by Dr. Tanner. But oh ! the fierce, explosive B Is quite without a rival In piling up the agony By insults adjectival. Thus : Bmtal Brigand, Bathed in Blood, Bombastic, Blatant Braggart, Base BantHng, Born of Bomba's Brood, Blood-boltered, Brazen Blaggart ! The amplest wealth of attribute Could ne'er describe thee fully, Thou Bare-faced Butcher, Barb'rous Brute, Big, Blustering, Bungling Bully ! Ah, yes, the B's sharp sting is best For an initial letter. And nought can stir the Irish breast. Or loose the purse-strings better. And thus the little busy B, Improves the patriot's powers, To gather money all the day For " This Great Cause of Ours." The. Globe, Fbbruart 1, 18S9. 198 PUBLISHED VERSES A PATRIOT'S PLAINT. TVRY bone in my body is acliin', -^ I'm kapin' my bed, and, bedad ! It's myself that can bardlj be spakin', I've got tlie bronchitus so bad. An' there's sorra a dog in creation, But my cough would be drownin' his bark ; An' it's all through the great dimonsthration The pathriots held in the Park. I'm a pathriot, too, like my ueighboui-s. An' whin the boys axed me to go, I took my blackthorn, and, be jabers ! I wint like a man to the show. But the Londoners, shure they're faint-hearted, The matin' it seemed mighty small ; And divil a row could be started To kape up our spirits at all. Mighty little it was that was spoken. But fine risolutions was passed ; An' we quickly dispersed — more by token, The snow it was drowTiin' us fast. By the powers ! I was bad on the morrow — How bad, it's myself that can't tell ; An' I'm achin' all over, begorrah ! There's divil a part of me well. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 199 An' it's Balfoiu' tlie blackguard has done it, Divil take liim ! it's no fault of mine. Shm-e an' faith, it was him that begun it, By stalin' the clothes of 'Brine. Av coorse, av he hadn't been tratin' O'Brine like a felon, ye know, We would niver have been dimonsthi-atiu', An' I'd have kept out of the snow. Faith, he does all he can for to spite us ; From him all our troubles are sprung ; An' bedad ! av I die of bronchitus. It's Balfour that ought to be hung. The Globe, February 12, 1889. A VOICE FROM DELPHI. pEOFESSOR NORTON", of Harvard University, is trying to persuade the Americans to purchase the complete site of Delphi, which, he avers, can be boiight for 80,000 dollars. «PeG (/>ei;. Ah me i That I should see My home beneath the hammer ! There was a time when all sublime O'er Greece I shed a glamoiu-. All Hellas loved my praise to tell Through every hill and hollow ; In Homer, too, I figured well. The " silver-bowed Apollo." 200 PUBLISHED VERSES A first-class god — it does seem odd That now upon the shelf I Am laid so low, that they can go And sell my place at Delphi — My shrine, where I was wont to sit. My foimtain of Castalia, My oracle — which I'll admit Was on the whole a failure. Eternal shame upon the name Of that Professor Norton, Who to my sacred Delphi came Its value to report on ! And now the place will soon belong To those detested Yankees, As he expressed it, " for a song " — A hymn, perhaps, of Sankey's. A paltry sum ! In years to come My head I ne'er can hold up. Oh, Ichabod ! That I, a god. By men should thus be sold up ! The price, I vow, would hardly keep A god in shirts and collars. Alas, that I should go so cheap As eighty thousand dollars ! The Globe, February 15, 1889. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 201 "EXCRESCENCES." " T DEPLORE the excesses which have occurred in -*- Ireland, but I believe they are only the excre- scences which accompany all popular movements for reform." — Mr. Childers at Perth. O PREJUDICED coercionist, Give ear to Mr. Childers, A statesman high upon the list Of Constitution-builders. If you would read Home Rule aright, Look only at its essence, For outrages and dynamite Are merely an excrescence. The things a few young men may do Are wholly unimportant ; They put " pitch-caps " on girls, perhaps, Who talk to men they oughtn't ; But these are tricks, when all is said, Of thoughtless adolescence. And tar upon the female head Is surely an excrescence. Perhaps you'i'e shocked when tails are docked Fi'om cows and other creatures P It is not well too much to dwell On these external features ; For it's a fact that cannot fail To meet with acquiescence, That, logically viewed, a tail Is merely an excrescence. 202 PUBLISHED VERSES This point of view enables you To disregard moonligliters, And you can quite put out of sight Those awkward dynamiters. Then read, mark, learn, and ponder this Most comforting of lessons, That outrages you can dismiss As merely an excrescence. The Globe, February 19, 1889. .^vyx^v/X'V-'X' v'V/X'X/'v^v^ v/^ ryyyyxr^,. "ONE GOOD TURN DESERVES ANOTHER." 'l/r ZANKOFF confides to the Standard corres- ■^'-^ ' pondent that Mr. Gladstone once, at the conclusion of an interview, accompanied him to the hall and held his overcoat for him to put on. On M. Zankoff Legging him not to do so, Mr. Gladstone said, "It is our custom in England." "So," added M. Zankoff, smiling, " I always help an Englishman on with his coat in memory of Mr. Gladstone." To help a man on with his coat, I may say, Is always my regular custom ; Nay, more, when I get a fair chance anyway At my enemies' jackets, I dust 'em. I always said Zankoff was far from a fool, And it's nice my politeness to quote ; I am glad that I always have made it a rule To help a man on with his coat. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 203 Parnell took his coat off to cut the " last link," And matters became so unpleasant, 'Twas prudent to help him resume it, I think, And that's what I'm doing at present. It wasn't, of coui-se, that I yielded to fright, Still less that I wanted his vote ; But seeing him coatless, I thought it polite To help the man on with his coat. And there's Harcoui-t, whose changes of coat, you're aware. Are really so quick and so recent ; I'm weary of helping him on, I declare. And I never can make him look decent. Poor Harcourt ! I fear, when my days end in night (Though I trust that that hour is remote). Not one of the lot will be large enough quite To put on the Gr. O. M.'s coat. The Globe, March 30, 1889. ..,/> /N.r^.'v/^ ^^ 'v/v/^ •V / N ./N. .'N/'"./^/ V OFF! A HOUSE OF COIMMONS Steeplechase ! How thankful we should be ! For now, what England needs, a race Of Statesmen we shall see. I've often thought how much akin St. Stephen's to a race is, For parties struggle hard to win. And always hope for places. 204 PUBLISHED VERSES And very natural withal This quaint resemblance seemed ; For in all commons, gi-eat and small, The turf is much esteemed. Pitt ruled the land at twenty -three, We read in history's page ; But now to reach the Treasui'y A man must wait for age. To keep a seat for big debates They leave their hats, you see ; How useful, then, to hau-less pates A handy cap must be ! And some with hatred, fierce and keen, Pursue the Church apace ; And so, 'tis easy to be seen, They love a steeple-chase. The skilled debater parries well His foeman's thrusts, and hence He must, as any one can tell. Be " clever at db fence." The working-class some represent, And some paternal acres ; While some, of literary bent. Have always been booTcmahers. With hacJis one party's well supplied ; It keeps for these affau-s A Hunter, and a Cobb beside, And several Irish mayors. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 205 The Tories, too, have got a Mount, Although of llojie bereft ; But none on victory can count, To Chance it must be left. So many whips each member gets That they will quite suffice ; And those who wish can make their bets, If there's a startinfj Price. Let others back the chestnut horse, The brown, and eke the grey ; But every statesman's hopes, of course, Are fixed upon the hay. A mighty throng of members gay Towards the racecourse fares ; There'll be no cah in it to-day. But there'll be lots of pairs. The rider's colours now are seen, Of every varied hue, For our M.P.'s have always been A party-coloured crew. On Courtney some will surely dare Their faith and pelf to pin ; The Chairman of Committee's there, He iveighs and means to win. And Smith will smartly take a fence ('Tis plainest of deductions), For great is his experience In coping with obstructions. 206 PUBLISHED VERSES Some horses, though, will fail to clear That ditch's further border ; Some at that hedge will stop, I fear, And will not rise to order. And he who all the course would iim Must do some valiant feats ; And — absit omen !^-ere it's done, There'U be some vacant seats. The Globe, Apeil 6, 1889. HOME RULE HAS WON. "ll/rR. GLADSTONE received, by t^legi-am, from •^'-■- Mr. Cyril Flower, the gratifying intelligence that Home Rule had won. — Daily News. The Grand Magician worked the spell, And straightway Homer's ghost arose, " O Master, I would have thee tell The fate that none of mortals knows. Those sightless orbs of thine can see The future doom revealed to none ; This legend read aright to me : ' Home Rule has won! ' " And thus the ancient bard replied : " The um of fate doth swiftly turn ; The lot that shall Home Rule decide Will leap ere long from out the urn. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 207 And thus the legend I declare : As round and round the lots are spun. Of all the hundred chances there Home Rule has one ! " The Globe, April 9, 1889. THE LAW AND THE LADIES. /'AUR fair politicians may well be concerned, ^-^ For the law simply treats them as drudges : " You may stand, if you like, but (although you're returned) We won't let you sit," say the judges. But to take all the feminine wisdom and wit From the Council were sui-ely a pity. We have it ! The ladies, forbidden to sit, Can be put on a Standing Committee. Judy, June 12, 1889. J'N^V^'X/X/V'k- 208 UNPUBLISHED VERSES XHnpubUsbet) Derses ow Darions Subjects. -\rv*x/> '^ 'X'^l/ ^ *>. 'x 'N y-v. /v •"*-•>.•> /vyx ' 214 UNPUBLISHED VERSES THE INVENTIONS COMMITTEE. THE hour of teu Is striking when A committee of elderly gentlemen, Whose names I decline to mention, May be seen well-armed with paper and pen And every good intention. They sit in a room Pronouncing doom, In a general atmosphere of gloom ; And consign to the peace of an early tomh Full many a bold invention. And all to the end Of their names append A number of proud initials, Which to astonishing lengths extend, An.d dignity and importance lend To the names of high officials. There are K.C.M.G.'s and K.C.B.'s, K.P.'s, K.T.'s, P.G.'s and M.P.'s ; There are K.C.S.I.'s and O.I.E.'s, And F.R.S.'s and LL.D.'s. And if you please Tou can add to these As many again with the gi'eatest ease. But of one thing you May be sure, that few Are content with the commonplace E.s.q. For they are persons of high degree, ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 215 The Committee Of tlie I.I.E., Resolved to defend To the bitter end The little remaining space that's free From the ruthless greed of the Patentee : And so they politely but firmly sit upon Men whose inventive brains have hit upon Wonderful schemes that would sui'ely set The Thames on fii'e if it were not wet. With a hardened heai-t and a stubborn will The invidious duty they fulfil. And on vain aspii-ations cold water douse, Like the Hanging Committee of Bui-lington House. And, sweetly unconscious of their doom, The inventors throng in the ante-room. In a terrible state Of mind they wait, And eagerly rush to their hapless fate. One by one, Till the tale is done. They go to the fearful ordeal ; And the heavy oak door is closed behind The victim of confidence all too blind. Who's made up his mind That he's designed To confer a benefit on mankind. But when he gets in he's sui'prised to find The Committee is far from cordial. And the man who's got The next turn by lot Is eager and hopeful and flushed and hot; And to and fro, As the animals do, 216 UNPUBLISHED VERSES When tliey know it's feeding-time at the Zoo, He paces the corridor Mopping his forehead, or Cursing, with soft pedal down, that horrid door Which, with its ponderous oaken frame, Is shutting him out from wealth and fame ; For he feels that his scheme he has but to name To meet on all sides with a loud acclaim. And he wonders how the Committee can Waste even a single minute On the rubbishy plan Of the previous man — A notion that's antediluvian — Picked up by a rascally charlatan. For, of course, there's nothing in it. The difference quickly can be detected 'Twixt those selected And those rejected ; A thing that was only to be expected. For some look glum. As they slowly come From the presence of the Committee. Some mutter, and some With despair are dumb, As if life henceforth were a vacuum ; While others with playful fingers struin An imaginary harmonium Or an airy imperceptible drum. And under their rivals' noses hum A row-de-iddity rum-ti-tum ; With a toss of the contumelious thumb In mingled acorn and pity. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 217 The Anti-Litgifer Match. The first Inventor was ushered in, His face was thin, With a parchment skin, And he constantly rubbed an obtrusive chin, And greeted with a familiar grin The Committee of the Inventions. And first having carefully shut the door, His hat he deposited on the floor, And produced from his pocket about a score (There might be less and there might be more) Tin boxes of small dimensions ; And passing them round. With a look profound. To the members of the Oommittee, In a voice that was neither subdued nor weak. But a fitftil resonant kind of creak. With plenty of cheek He began to speak, " I think you'll agree that the thing's unique. Its useful and cheap and pretty. P'raps, gentlemen, Tou remember when With a flint and steel and tinder They used to beguile the tedious hours And waste their tissue and vital powers (Their time was less valuable then than ours) While the fire descended in reckless showers. With nothing on earth to hinder The sparks from setting the house a-blazc (For such were the ways Of the good old days) And reducing the place to a cinder. 218 UNPUBLISHED VERSES And many deplored the woful waste Of time and energy so misplaced ; TUl the difficulty was boldly faced By a man with a scientific taste, Who the old-fashioned flint and steel replaced By a thing that was less uncertain. To wit : a lucifer, Made from the juicy fir. Still, it was likely to play the deuce if a Head should detach Itself from the match, And, frolicking off at a tangent, catch A neighbouriug dress or curtain. So one of a well-known firm one day, I can't quite say Whether Bryant or May, From fire to afford protection, Invented a match that would only ignite On the box— and not always on that, despite The frequent injunction to rub them light. But anyhow this, you'll agree, was quite A step in the right direction. But as Cicero says, ' It aia't " quantuvi suff" '— I mean that they didn't go far enough. And that's why I reprobate 'em ; Their principle's good without a doubt. As far as it goes, but to work it out With a will that's firm and a heart that's stout Is the great desideratum. Now I've brought the principle to maturity, More security For futurity ; That is my plan in its naked purity — Thither my heart aspires. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 219 And he who woiild compass this end must pause, And make a study of nature's laws, He'll see what catastrophes matches cause : If he'll only refer to Captaua Shaw's Reports on oux' London fii-es. " So now I must crave youi' condescension And kind attention, While I just mention The principal points of my new invention With diffidence and humility. Tou see, I begin By packing them in A non-inflammable box of tin, Which renders an accident akin To a moral impossibility. I think my invention will simply floor Both Bryant and May, and the " Tandstickor," Though they're ' idan svafvel och fosfor,' Which, I take it, is Scandinavian for ' Without either sulphur or phosphorus.' I must say, by the way, when foreigners send Their wares over here, they might condescend To a tongue that theii* customers comprehend ; At least at the end They might append A something by way of a gloss for us. Now lucifer heads are apt to fly ; But with these your efforts I can defy. All day and all night you might freely try — It can't be done, and I'll tell you why : No head to the match attaches. They simply consist, as all matches should. 220 UNPUBLISHED VERSES Of nothing but good Substantial wood. So their name will be readily imderstood, The ' Anti-Lucifer Matches ! ' Messrs. Bryant and May Have had their day ; For though their notion, I'm bound to say, Was highly commendable in its way, Mine's happier, simpler, newer. For with these it's immaterial, quite, How hard you rub 'em, they won't ignite On the box or anything else — you might As well endeavour to coax a light From the end of a wooden skewer. So I beg of your grace To grant me space ; I should like a good conspicuous place, For it's my belief sincerely, That if it is prominently displayed My match will do an enormous trade. The danger from fire will be so allayed, And soon it will hardly be gainsaid. For the Metropolitan Fire Brigade Will be ornamental merely." He ceased, and the Chairman answered thus : " Your idea most excellent seems to us, The matter you ably handle ; But what I have hitherto failed to catch Is how you propose, with a headless match, To light your bedroom candle." The confident look Of pride forsook The inventor's face ; with a hand that shook He picked up his battered hat. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 221 He simply ejaculated " Eh ? " And made for the door witliout delay In a limp condition ; lie did not stay To collect his boxes, or say, " Good-day " ; But v/as heard to remark as he crept away, " Why didn't I think of that ? " The Chin-Mower. The next to pass the ordeal's rigour Entered the chamber stepping lightly; He was tall and thin, and his bony figure Was wrapped in a irock-coat buttoned tightly. The lone goatee, demurely flowing Beneath his chin, excites suspicion That its escape is solely owing To some fortuitotis omission. His hair behind curls stiffly out, His nose is long, his figm*e lanky ; In fact he is, beyond a doubt, A genuine true full-blooded Yankee. His accent's anything but pure. His voice monotonous and twangy, His diction's frequently obscure. And his vocabulary slangy. He strokes his chin, expectorates. And thus addresses the Committee : " My name is Phineas T. Bates, And I was raised in New York City ; Into a white- goods store I went — A line of life I thought degrading. I couldn't do it worth a cent, I didn't have a taste for trading ; 222 UNPUBLISHED VERSES So v/hen in eigliteeu montlis about. In manner rather firm tlian gentle, The boss one morning fired me ont, I didn't care a continental. The inventing biisiness seemed to me A bang-np sort of line to enter. To tell the square-toed truth, you see, I felt I was a born inventor. But in the States we're crowded so, The biisiness don't remunerate us. So I've come over here to show My patent shaving apparatus. " Now, if from prejudice you're free. And not to present fashion wedded ; If you have any claim to be Considei'ed cute and level-headed, I guess you will at once allow. Without the slightest hesitation, That this machine I show you now — To put it mildly — licks creation. I like to call a spade a spade, I hate your high-f alutin phrases, I say that nature never made Such blamed rll-fired machines as razors. " You all must know some silly youth Who tries to hurry nature's working ; Who thinks that even now, in truth. Beneath the skin the hair is lurking. On his expectant upper lip, With thoughtfiil tug he'll fondly linger, And o'er his lower features trip With gently meditative finger. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. Each morning to the glass he'll rush To see if he has growTi more hairy, And deftly ply the rasping brush On whiskers qnitc imaginary ; He sees no beauty in the face Of beardless Belvedere Apollo, And thinks for manliness and grace The hairy Esau beats him hollow. And so, to foster on his chin The beard that yet is embryonic, He spends his pocket money in The latest hair-producing tonic. He'll hopefully procure Latreilles' Hair-unguent, and with steady jsttrsuit Smear lips with this that never fails The smoothest face to render hirsute. Upon his sparsely dotted chin The hail* as yet is not gi-egarious, But still to shave he must begin — An operation most precarious. His unresisting face he'll slash, Like some blood-thirsty ancient Druid, With an expenditure most rash Of precious time and vital fluid. And when he's through, with anxious care The soapy mass he'll fondly gather, And proudly note the infrequent hair That lurks amid the gory lather. Now, if you'd total up the blood That's daily shed by people shaving. You'd think the razor'd be tabooed Except by madmen, stark and raving. Then there's the gi-eat inducement lent To persons reckless and besotted ; 224 UNPUBLISHED VERSES It's such a liandy instrument For use on arteries carotid. Reflect how dangerous it is, To what atrocious deeds it may lure — For all innocuous purposes The razor is a dismal failiu'e. In this department, strange to find There's still a terrible hiatus ; And someone's got to give mankind A safety shaving apparatus. It's true, as everybody knows. That recently a man invented An instrument that clearly shows Its author to have been demented. I don't propose to entertain The company with such a topic ; The thing was just a kind of plane Of awkward shape and microscopic. The prospects of the hopeful plan In this unique advantage centred. That if it slipped, no deeper than A sixteenth of an inch it entered. The fool thought this would make it pay ; But other people, somewhat warier, Perceived that it could scoop away A slab of flesh of any area. It was the meanest implement. And didn't have a show to speak of ; It couldn't shave you worth a cent, But yanked great pieces of your cheek off. I wish to speak of it, you see, In terms of friendly moderation. I'll only say, it seemed to me, The sickest thing in all creation. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 225 And now, as you're aware no doubt, Its head it can no longer hold up. The blamed concern has petered out, The patentee was lately sold up. " But time I guess is on the wing — To my invention, gents, we'll get on, Its just a bang-up kind of thing, — That statement you may freely bet on. Its pretty smart, and that's a fact, — I don't desire to overrate it, — But if on my advice you'll act, Right in the front you will locate it. Toil know the elegant machine That overgi'owth on lawns reduces ; I reckoned it, as will be seen. Might be applied to other uses. So, with a stroke of genius, I Made it my fundamental basis, And boldly ventured to apply The principle to human faces. And so, without a minute's lapse, I put in hand my new Chin Mower : 'Tain't very much to look at p'raps. You bet yom- lives, though, it's a goer. It's one advantage, which, I guess. Will take the British Public rather. It don't require a dii'ty mess Of soap, or any sort of lather. So you may get your dollars out. And on this notion freely stake 'em For, take my tip, its just about As smart and handy as they make 'em. 15 226 UNPUBLISHED VERSES Around your chin 'twill gently roll ; (Its operation is so simple), It lightly skims the obtrusive mole, And rides serenely o'er the pimple. " It doesn't have a slicking hlade, Or ought that's dangerous or frightening ; It's more like scissors that's it's made ; And it'll shave you quicker 'n lightning. 'Twill shave you old 'uus without pain. Whose hand uncertain and infirm is, And when you're through, you'll still retain Youi" full amount of epidermis, One application renders you As hairless as a paper collar ; On that, my friends, I'm ready to Plank down my fundamental dollar. It leaves you smoother than a clam. With no more biistles than a baby, You see the sort of man I am, And yoii'll believe my statement, maybe. If not, and I may be allowed A moment to take off my coat, I'm Prepared right here to shave the crowd. Free, gi-atis, gents, in less than no time. And there's a point which I opine Is liable to take your fancies ; You'll find that this machine of mine Adapts itself to circumstances. " To suit the crop upon your cheeks The knives you elevate or lower And, like the coon, the gi-owth of weeks Will just ' come down ' to my Chin Mower. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 227 A thousand dollars I'll divide If anywhere around you scare up A thing like this, that once applied, Won't leave a solitary hair up. For shaving you will not discover Its equal, you may bet youi* hat ; All other schemes it just lays over, — There ain't no discount, boss, on that. And now it's my opinion, gents, That every British son of Shem Will chuck all other implements, And just freeze on to my C. M. If I can only find the takers, I'll seize an early opportunity Of betting that the razor makers Will be a busted-up community. There'll be a rough time, anyway. For Taylor, and for Mappin Brothers ; And it'll be a coldish day For Rodgers, Elliott, and others." With this, the ghastly instrument He brandished with an air satanic ; And through the whole Committee went A helpless universal panic. At last the Chairman, pale as death, His vital organs in a flutter. And gasping nei-vously for breath, A few brief words contrived to utter : " Your offer upon us to practise We've no intention, sir, of scorning ; It woidd be charming, but the fact is We all of us were shaved this morning. 228 UNPUBLISHED VERSES Tour Mower charmed us on the spot — So novel and ingenious is it — If I may say so, it is what Your countrymen would call ' exquisite.' We can't, at present, promise yoii A place — I mention it with sorrow — But we will try what we can do If you will kindly call to-morrow." The Yankee tiu-ned upon his heel. And promised to x'eturn quite early ; Which only made the Chairman feel Particularly riled and surly. He gave his orders in this strain : " Just see that ruffian off the premises, And if you let him in again You'll undergo a frightful nemesis." These verses were never revised by the author, who in- tended to add to them various other "inventions," such as "A Talking Machine for M.P.'s," "A Dressing Machine," "Foot-boats to walk on the water with," " Bellows to fill sails in a calm," " Non-efTervesccnt soda-water," &c. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 229 AFTER THE JUBILEE. f\R ! what shall we do with our flags, ^ That on Jubilee-Day looked so nice P Must they go with the bones and the rags To be sold at a nominal price ? The Union Jack, Royal Standard, And others of nondescript hues, Upon which our resources we squandered — Must they go to itinerant Jews P Oh ! what shall we do with our flags P Must we sternly all sentiment squash, And cut them to make into bags For sending our clothes to the wash P And our banners, too— what are they worth ? Our " Welcomes," " V.R.'s," Crowns Imperial, And " God save the Queens " — what on earth Can we do with the surplus material ? Oh ! what shall we do with our lamps, The Jubilee lamps that we bought, For which the unprincipled scamps Charged us three times as much as they ought P Which we hung in such pretty devices, OwY windows and balconies round — I'll inquire, by the way, what the price is Of old coloured glass by the poiind. Nothing could have looked smarter or spicker. When we managed to light them at last ; Though after a weak little flicker They mostly succumbed to the blast. 230 UNPUBLISHED VERSES As niglit-lights they'd do in the nursery, And — if they're not broken by then — On the Jubilee-Day anniversary, Perhaps we might use them again. For representations dramatic The bunting may haply come in ; To put it away in the attic Would seem to be almost a sin Perhaps a Zenana Society Could use it for clothing the blacks — It would make a delightful variety To di-ess them in Union Jacks. But stay ! I've a bright inspiration. Our remnants, you'll siu*ely agree, Would find their correct destination Adorning a Primrose League Tea ! For each village, and borough, and city, Where the League has its teas, there's enough ; So we'll look to the Primrose Committee To buy up our Jubilee stuff. June 25, 1S87. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 231 ON LEFROY, THE MURDERER OF MR. GOLD. pERCY LEFROY -*- Was a good little boy, Though it seems his good angel forgot him. To his praise be it told That he didn't love Goldr- If he had, he would never have shot him. And you, whose stern mind For his fate cannot find A tear that his innocence hallows ; Though your heart be as board, He will sm-e touch a eordj When he takes his last drop on the gallowc. For my part, I must say, That if I had my way, With such folks as Lefroy or as Guiteau, I'd lynch the whole lot, Right away on the spot. As I'd squash an obnoxious mosquito. November 27, 1881. THE CAT. Q OME hate the beetle, some the mouse. Some shudder at the harmless spider ; Some like poor puss about the house. But there are some who can't abide her. 232 UNPUBLISHED VERSES All have their likes and eke their hates, And there is nought to wonder at If William Sykes abominates " The harmless, necessary cat." 'Tis odd this prejudice should hold O'er William's class such wide dominion ; But burglars are, as I am told, Unanimous in this opinion. And is it right, then, that the State, In spite of their repugnance flat, Should force these men to cultivate A close acquaintance with the cat P 'Tis true the modern Sykes is not Renowned for probity and meekness : Indeed, for lethal arms he's got. Of late, a most decided weakness. "ORANGE." rj 'HERE once was a fellow spent quite a long time, -*- lu ranging through Webster to hit on a rhyme To the almost unrhymable " orange " ; Eul, finding at length that his search was no good. He finally made up his mind that he would Through Webster's dry pages no more range. August 20, 1883. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 233 A NURSERY RHYME REVISED. A Canon objects to Dancing in his parish. TTEY diddle, diddle ! The Dance and the Fiddle ! ■■^-*- I can't understand it at all ; The Chtirch has come down on the heads of the town, And the Canon finds fault with the Ball. Decembee 28, 188-1. THE COMMERCIAL TRAVELLER. TWJ ILL you buy my patent burner ? " said the bland commercial gent. ; " In a fortnight it will save you all the money you have spent ; There's been such a rush upon them that I've only left a few. And I thought before they'd all been sold, I'd offer themL to you. Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will yuu take the lot ? Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, Avill you take the lot P " You can really have no notion how delightful they will be, How much you'll save in gas, and how distinctly you will see." 234 UNPUBLISHED VERSES But the Dr. had been sold before, and knew it was a chouse, And wrathfidly he answered, " Will you walk out of my house ? Will you, won't you, Tvdll you, won't you, will you leave the house ? Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you leave the house ? " PARLIAMENTARY ALPHABET. A'S the Address they present to the Queen, B's Mr. Bradlaugh, who made such a scene. C is the Censure so helplessly parried, D's the Division which discipline carried. E stands for Egypt, 'tis plain to the tyro — F is the Faineant ruler at Cairo. G is the Government, scarcely at ease, H the Home-Rulers it's anxious to please. I is the Irishman known as their captain, J is the Jail that he ought to be clapt in. K is Kilmainham to suit his convenience ; L is the Loss he would be to the Fenians. M is the Member, as half-and-half cast, N is Northampton which " sticks to its Zasf." O is the Oath he unlawfully took, P is the Party v/hich brought him to book. Q is the Question that's so indiscreet, R the Reply so evasively neat. S is the Speaker, who rides the debate, T is the Trials he's gone thi-ough of late. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 235 U is the Uniiarliamcntary plirase, V the Vulgarity which it displays. Ws "Westminster just before foiu- ; X the policeman who stands at the door. Y is the Youth who at meetings can prate, Z is the Zero he forms in debate. March 6, 1884. BOARD OF WORKS-OBITUARY. ■pOOR Board ! 'tis the fated morning, -■- The hated " appointed day " ; Thy masters have given the warning, And now thou must pass away. Yes, thy members have had their pickiugs- Commissions, and jobs, and " perks " ; Thy record, I fear, is not quite so clear As it might be, O Board of Works. Oh ! put not yoiu- trust in Ritchies — Once more is this truth impressed — For into thee Ritchie pitches As fiercely as all the rest. The Firths get their armour ready, The Roseberys draw their dii-ks, And I hear them say, " The appointed day Has come for thee, Board of Works." Oui' Councillors now watch o'er us. But haply as years shall wane, Ajid their record is laid before us. We may wish for thee back again. 236 UNPUBLISHED VERSES TJbou hast done good work in thy season, And a touch of regi'et still lui'ks Right down in my heart, as I see thee part, Unfortunate Board of Works ! March, 1889. GORDON TO THH RESCUE, rilHERE once was a Cabinet sorely perplexed, -*- They didn't know what in the world to do next, They couldn't do less Than ignobly confess That they'd got themselves into a deuce of a mess. They'd brought up their navy, and knocked, so to speak, Alexandria into the midst of next week. And Ai-abi bold Into space had been hui'led, ^ind his army expunged from the face of the world. Then the Mahdi arose, most determined of foes, And put his prophetic thumb up to his nose ; He was down upon Hicks Like a hundred of bricks, And he put the Khedive in a terrible fix. So the Cabinet met and took counsel together, And talked of more serious things than the weather And the Grand Old Man To his chums began, " I think, my dear boys, that I've hit on a plan To pacify Egypt and cut the Soudan. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 237 " You've all heard of G-oi'don — I mean the Chinese — Who scatters his foes like as chaff to the breeze, With the confident ease of a man shelling peas : NoAv he is the man To set right the Soudan, And settle the Mahdi, if any one can. " You've heard, I presume, of a place called Khartoum, It's a fort, I believe, Tvhere there's plenty of room. Now if Gordon could once at Khartoum show his face, The Mahdi would be in a pretty tight place, And we should be saved from defeat and disgrace." So to Gordon they wired, twenty words for a shilling, And quickly the answer came, " Barkis is willing." He's a rum'un is Gordon When he buckles his sword on. He'll be back in a month from the banks of the Jordan (I shoiild say the Nile — I see some of you smile), With the Mahdi disgraced and this troublesome war done. Without further delay. On the very same day, The General packed up and stai-ted away. And all of the luggage he took from his home Was a sponge-bag, containing sponge, toothbrush, and comb. And when in due course he arrived at Khartoum He wrote manifestoes proclaiming the doom Of the Mahdi and Osman and Heaven knows whom. But somehow they didn't produce the effect That the General thought he'd a right to expect. Unfinished. 238 UNPUBLISHED VERSES THE CHAIR! THE CHAIR! THE CHAIR. ■jl TY grand old age is cruslied of late -'-'-'- By one unending care, AVliicli tlins succinctly I may state : The Chair, the Ohaii-, the Chair ! The interviewer now I prize, Whom once I could not bear ; And this the sum of my replies : •' The Chair, the Chair, Wid Chair ! " The Ted unto the Orange sticks Till all is hluc, I swear ; And we're in such an awkwark fix. We must re-Peel the Chair ! Whene'er I fall two stools between — A thing which is not rare — I mutter, " This would not have been Had I been in the Chair." When at my desk I sit all day, I'm most uneasy there. And if I'm asked the cause, I say " The Chair, the Chau-, the Chair 1 " With " Chairs to mend " I hear folks wend Along the thoroughfare ; But in our case no power can mend The Chair, the Chair, the Chair. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 239 MR. GLADSTONE AND THE EISTEDDFOD. rpHE Driiids all to Albert HaU •*■ Gathered from far and wide ; The Grand Old Man — so rumour ran — Had promised to preside. " A Welsli address ! He can't do less For ' gallant little Wales ' ; Though Welsh is tough, he'll learn enough : He's one who never fails." The reverend Hivfa Man arrives, And Clirydfardd, too, Arch-Druid, Then- hands no longer armed with knives, Nor stained with vital fluid. Assembled is the Eisteddfod, And people — to be honest — Begin to think it rather odd That Mr. G. is " rjjn est" A note is read : " Have kept my bed Since Friday — ^most unpleasant — Engagement off — a tightish cough — Regret I can't be present." His Welsh address he must suppress : The cough applies the closure ; But is it true that that is due, As he says, to exposiu-e ? It's plain to see that Mr. G. Unjustly blames the weather : He's got his cough by reeling off Twelve consonants together ! August 10, 1887. 240 UNPUBLISHED VERSES THE EISTEDDFOD OF WALES. Note. /^LWYDFABDD, the Chief Druid, heaving attained the great age of 85 years, Hwfa M6n (the Rev. R. Williams), acting as Chief Druid, delivered an address in Welsh. . . . Considerable disappointment was felt at the absence of Mr. Gladstone, as president. The right hon. gentleman, however, sent the following letter of apology, which was read by Mr. Richard, M.P. : " 21, Carlton House Terrace, " August 4. "Dear Mr. Richard, — After addressing the represen- tative London meeting last Friday, I caught /ro??i expo- sure a sore thi-oat, which passed into a tight cough, and I was confined to bed until yesterday. It has given way, but I could not undertake so soon after the attack to address a public meeting on the 9th. It is true that I had intended, and still intend, to go to Hawarden this week ; but oven if in London I shoiild not have been able to undertake the office of President of the Eistedd- fod. " Accept, therefore, my cordial good wishes for the celebrations of next week, and believe me, dear Mr. Richard, " Most faithfully yours, "W. E. Gladstone." Standard, August 10, 1887, ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 241 MR. GLADSTONE AND THE WASP. "It/TR. GLADSTONE, while felling a tree on ■^'-^ Satiu'day, was stiuig by an insect, whicli pro- duced a swelling of the eyelid, but no serious results are anticipated. — Times, Monday, October 25, 1886. Tou say 'twas a wasp or a fly, That went for the master of Hawarden, And stung the old man in the eye- Well, you're out of it, begging your pardon. I happen to know as a fact, And I'll stake my existence upon it, That William E. G. was attacked By the bee that he's got in his bonnet. October 28, 1886. TREVELYAN THE TRIMMER. /*\H, who has not heard of George Otto Trevelyan, ^-^ The rising young star in the Liberal skies ? For all used to say he was one in a million, So statesmanlike, steady, courageous, and wise ! But George O. Trevelyan, you know, As a statesman has shown himself rather so-so. 16 242 UNPUBLISHED VERSES Trevelyan and CliamLerlain both left tlie Cabinet, Wlien Gladstone caved in to Pat Ford and Parnell ; The Bill was brought in, and when Joe put a stab in it, George had a hand in the slaughter as well ; For George O, Trevelyan, you know, Thought he couldn't be wi-ong if he stuck to his Joe. His support of the Union was loyal and hearty ; He spoke like a man without favour or f eai' : " When the country's in danger, what care I for party ? A fig for ambition and future career ! " And George O. Trevelyan, you know, Said the nastiest things about Parnell and Co. In so noble a cause he cared nought for the schism That split up his party and crippled its might ; He talked very big about patriotism, And fought his election for justice and right. But George O. Trevelyan, you know. At Hawick received a disheartening blow. Oh, then was the winter of Ms discontent ! To be out of the House didn't quite suit his book ; And he very soon let it be seen that he meant To get back to St. Stephen's by hook or by crook. For George O. Trevelyan, you know. Said, " To be an outsider's uncommonly slow." ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 243 He was asked to go in for the contest at Brigliton, But George at tlie time hadn't made up his mind. Poor fellow ! he didn't know which side to fight on, And so he politely hut firmly declined. And George O. Trevelyan, you know. Was aware that he woiildn't have much of a show. So he " sat on the fence " in the dolefullest dumps, And he couldn't determine which side to descend. Said he, " I must notice which way the cat jumps — Meantime to both parties I'll pose as a friend." For George O. Trevelyan, you know. Was a little uncertain how matters would go. But at Glasgow when asked " Under which King, Bezonian P " By the Liberal party of Bridgeton, to wit, He saw a safe seat, and said, " I'm a Gladstonian, Although I've not changed my opinions a bit." For George O. Trevelyan, you know, Professes to think that he's got quid 'pro quo. So George has gone over to Parnell and Davitt, Though once he was sternly opposed to Home Rule, And declared that the man who'd allow them to have it Must be, in two words, either traitor or fool. But George O. Trevelyan, you know. Says that's what he said more than twelve months ago. 244 UNPUBLISHED VERSES " Law aud order ! " lie cried, aud " The loyal minority ! " " My public life liaply may come to a close ; But I'll never consent to give power and authority To subsidised agents of alien foes." But George O. Trevelyan, you know, Says lie made those remarks fully six months ago. So Glasgow has sent him once more to St. Stephen's To back up the Grand Old Magician's pet hobby ; But if Home Rule comes forward, it's just about evens That George will be found in the opposite lobby. For George O. Trevelyan, you know. May possibly kick at Ford, Egan and Co. What then ? Is the star of the Unionists dimmer Because such a man has desei'ted the flag ? No ; let them rejoice to be rid of a trimmer, Whose backbone's as limp as a piece of wet rag. For George O. Trevelyan, you know, Did more harm as a friend that he can as a foe. 1887. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 245 PAIRS AND THE ALL-NIGHT SITTING OF MARCH 21, 1887. By our Special Reporter. /"VH, they had such a rollicking time at St. Stephen's ! ^-^ All night they determined to keep up the fun ; And the betting appeared to be just about evens That a couple of sittings they'd roll into one. I discovered O'Grady, M.P., with a Hansard, At 7 a.m. fast asleep in a chair : " They're dividing," I cried ; " go and vote." But he answered : " Bedad ! I can't vote, Sorr, because I'm a pair." " You a j^eer / " I exclaimed, the expression mistaking ; For the brogue of O'Grady is second to none. " Whoever a peer out of you has been making P " " Be aisy," he answered, " wid pokin' yer fun." Then another came in, looking pale and dejected, And said, " I am anxious to vote, but I mayn't." Till a crowd of impatient M.P.'s had collected, And this was the burden of each one's complaint : " I'm a pair, in the lobby forbidden to mingle : The whip says I mustn't at present go there. At 9, 1 am told, I shall once more be single, But up to that moment, alas ! I'm a pair " Maech 30, 1887. 246 UNPUBUSHED VERSES Mr. Akers Douglas : In answer to the question just put to me by the ton. member for the Scotland Division of Livei-pool, I beg to say that, as far as I know, no member who was paired for the night voted in the closure division. In answer to my hon. friend the member for Nottingham, I believe that some twenty-five members of this House, supporters of the Government, paired for the night on Monday, the 21st inst., but I cannot admit that they voted " during the continuance of such pairs." Of these members, twenty-two voted after 9.30 in the morning of Tuesday with my sanction, and in so voting I contend that they were acting in concert with and not " in opposition to the recognised rules which govern the practice of pau's between members of this House." Ihave alivays under, stood that a pair entered into for " the night " is only intended to hold good until the morning, and that if two members wish to pair for the whole sitting, such an arrangement is specified in the pair list by the words " For sitting." On the occasion alluded to, several hon. members came down to the House desiring to vote in the closure division, hut acting upon my advice refrained from voting until after O'o'clocJc in the morning, at lohich time I considered there could he no question hut that "pairs " for the night had lapsed. — Times. March 30, 1887. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 247 FIRST CLASS. 11 /TR. O'BRIEN, being removed from Clonmel to ■^ -^ Killarney, refused to go into a tliii-d or second class caii'iage. He said, " If you attempt to make me go by any other than fii'st class you will have to use force." Oh, shameful outrageous indignity ; The like of it never was beard : Vile offspring of Balfour's malignity, To make an O'Brien go "third." In petty devices and small ways Of plaguing his foes he is versed. So he sends a man " third " who is always Accustomed to travelling " first." By my ancestors' bones ! the O'Briens "Would vastly prefer to be cast, Like the Chi'istians of old, to the lions. Than thus with the " thii-ds " to be classed. We say to the mob, very truly, We're fighting with them side by side ; But to press such a theory unduly Is foolish — I know, for I've tried. Regarded as just an abstraction, I grant that we're aU on a level ; But the theory when put into action Infallibly goes to the d . 248 UNPUBLISHED VERSES Mr. Balfour is apt to mistake me ; He thinks with the vulgar I'll herd ; But it's only by force he can make me Wear prison costume, or go " third." Tes, I flatter myself I'm more knowing ; I've always as yet had the sense To travel first-class — when I'm going At somebody else's expense. THE MISSING LINK. ri^HE shade of Darwin crossed the Styx -*- And landed on Elysium's brink ; One thought alone his mind could fix— The problem of the Missing Link. Then in the regions of the blest He met a priestess of Apollo ; And she, when asked to aid his quest. Responded in the lines that follow : " When mingled genius and fool For England's sins shall moiint to power, And yield to traitors' thi-eats Home Rule In evil hour ; " In that ' last link,' that's left to bind Two lands, as dreamers fondly think, Thy countrymen too late shall find The Missing Link ! " April, 1887. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 249 PARNELL ON HIS "LAST LINK" SPEECH. rpHESE Englishmen are so absurd, -*- So wanting in imagination, They always give one's every word Its literal interpretation. Rebellious phrases may be quite Innocuous when used in my sense ; Regarded in the proper light It's mere electioneering licence. I praised the hand of fellowship Stretched out by Nolan's shady party. I must confess I made a slip, But they expected something hearty. And " a la Gladstone," I'll explain — If not entirely metaphorical. Yet, on the whole, and in the main, 'Twas just a floui'ish oratorical. And when I spoke of that " last link " — Although I don't admit I said it. For such reporters none can think Deserving of the slightest credit — But, anyhow, the phrase 'tis clear Admits of easy explanation. For, obviously, it was mere Rhetorical exaggeration. ^v»"v/X/X/"v/\/ v/v* vy'W'"vy\yX'"v v"* 250 UNPUBLISHED VERSES THE RAPE OF THE MOUSTACHE. mHE wife of Mr. E. Harrington, M.P., writing from -^ Tralee to a coiTespondent respecting her husband's imprisonment, says: — "Nothing could eqnal the indignation of the people here at Balfour's cowardly act in cutting off my husband's moustache. Num- bers of Conservatives have expressed their disgust to me in regard to the mean act. But even Balfour could not remove the roots of it, so that one as good wiU grow again. And I am sure that a moustache never had so many kind friends sympathetically watching its growth as that one will have." — Standard, February 1, 1888. When they took off my Edward to prison, I felt just as wild as a bear. But my anger has sensibly risen At what they have done to him there. 'Tis not that he's forced willy-nilly To put on the prison costume ; 'Tis not on account of the skilly My Edward's obliged to consume. 'Tis not that he misses his toddy ; 'Tis not that he's mighty ill-fed ; 'Tis not that his fine handsome body Is laid on an ugly plank-bed. His hands of such elegant whiteness Are spoUt with the oakum he picks ; And him, that's the pink of politeness, They force him with felons to mix. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 251 But it isn't these hardsliips so cruel, For whicli Bloody Balf oui- 1 curse ; They have put upon Edward, my jewel, An outrage a thousand times worse. Oh ! worse than all other atrocities ! Ay, worse than the torturer's lash ! Most foul of inhuman monstrosities — They've cut off my EdwarcVs moustache ! But yet, spite of Balfoui* the craven, And all of the cowardly bi-utes — Though my Edward's moustache is clean-shaven. They couldn't get rid of the roots ! And when his captivity's ended, And Balfour at last lets him out, Another moustache just as splendid Will soon be beginning to sproxit. Sui'e, never moustache in creation Excited folks' interest so; For every one's chief occupation Will just be observing it grow. In the finest of Irish society It's we will be cutting the dash, While they're watching with tender anxiety The state of my Edward's moustache. 252 UNPUBLISHED VERSES "NOT TO-DAY, BAKER!" rpHE gallant Boiilanger, Had just got his conge, And felt in a quarrelsome mood ; When Citizen Ferry Thought weU to make merry And jest in a manner most rude. " Parbleu ! " said the General ; " Women and men are all Laughing at Ferry's vile joke. With his second-rate wit, is an Insolent citizen Fun at a soldier to poke P " No, no ! in a duel I'll give him his gniel, At twenty-five yards, the first round ; If we miss, we will go on Five nearer, and so on. Till one of us lies on the ground." Then Citizen Ferry No longer looked merry. " What ! go on till one of us falls ! The fellow means murder ! What could be absurder ? As if we were barbarous Gauls ! ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 253 " In so bloodthirsty, cruel, And wicked a duel I never will be a partaker ; And so, while sincerely Regretting, I'll merely Reply to him, ' Not to-day. Baker I ' " Jules Ferry in a public speech having aUuded to General Boulanger as a " St. Arnaud de cafe-concert," was challenged by the latter. The General's seconds insisted on such unreas- onable conditions that M. Ferry's seconds declined to accept them, and the duel was therefore abandoned. — See Standard, August 3, 1887. I WAR SYMPTOMS. " T seems, on the whole, quite clear That the long-threatened war is near. For " Our Own Correspondents " are all agog : Each day they discover fresh clouds that fog The political atmosphere. The statesmen protest that war Is just what they all abhor ; But Bismarck was yesterday seen by chance SuiTeptitiously buying a map of France ! What else could he want it for ? * Then General Boulanger Has suddenly sent away * Standard, March 3. — General Boulanger has just issued a circular to the Commanders of all French Army Corps, that for the future officers are not to be allowed to have any foreigner, male or female, in their households employed as servants, i|-c. This is in consequence of General Davoust's governess turning out to be the wife of a Prussian officer quartered near the French frontier. 254 UNPUBLISHED VERSES His valet, wlio liailed from tlie Fatlierland ; And Monsieur de Blowitz, I understand, Says it heralds the coming fray. * No one knows what the Czar is at. But the Petersburg Bourse is flat, For they say that to keep up his warlike habits His Majesty's potting his Aides like rabbits ! Pray, what do you think of that ? t At Vienna and Buda-Pesth There's a feeling of vague unrest. For the Emperor-King at a great Court Ball Wouldn't take any supper, but left the hall Quite early, and seemed depressed. The Sultan, they say, last night Made a call on Sir William White Arid wanted to borrow a five-pound note ; And you know that he always attempts to float A loan, when he means to fight. And matters at Rome look queer, For a War Office clerk, I hear, Guve an order last week at a pastry-cook's For two dozen tins of sardines de luxe ! So they're laying in stores, it's clear. * Pall Mall Gazette and other papers give currency to a re- port that the Czar has shot one of his Aides-de-camp, Major Eeutern, under the impression that the latter, who sprang up hurriedly to receive him, was about to attack him. f Standard, February 4. — Vienna. — At the great annual In- dustriellen Ball the utmost eagerness was shown to learn what the Emperor said in conversation with various persons. . . , Their Majesties remained only a short time in the Ball-room — less than three-quarters of an hour, in fact — and it was the subject of general notice that the Emperor looked very serious during this time. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 255 Correspondents, you see, discern War symptoms at every turn ; From the veriest trifles tliey draw sure signs By a process called " reading between tlic lines " — It's not very hard to learn ! March G, 1887. THE BOY-KING OF SERVIA. T'YE never made out what papa was about -*- When he gave me his crown as a present ; But although to be King is a very fine thing, In some ways it's rather unpleasant. These Regents, you know, are down on me so, They won't let me do what I want to. Oh ! why did mamma have a row with papa. And where in the world is she gone to ? I want to get home my mamma, &c. Oh ! the lessons my tu-tors compel me to do At the times when I ought to be playing ! They talk about Russia, and Austria, too. And I don't understand what they're saying. Old Ristichs he drops on my marbles and tops. And declares I've more serious duties. It was only to-day that the brute took away My two alley-tors — oh, such beauties ! I want to get home my mamma, &c. 256 UNPUBLISHED VERSES What's the use of a crown if you're always kept down By a parcel of stupid old Regents ? I'm nearly thirteen, and you bet that I mean To get even some day with those three gents. They're backed up by the dad ; I call him just as bad ; But I soon shall be getting my freedom. Old Ristichs and pa, and my subjects, ha! ha! They'll see what a life I shall lead 'em. I want to get home my mamma, &c. RECIPE FOR MILK PUNCH. rp AKE a dozen large lemons — the largest there are — -*- Peel thin to the best of your powers ; Put the rind, with a bottle of rum, in a jar, And leave it for twenty-four hours. At the end of that time put the rind and the rum In a ' mug '—you can hardly mistake it ; Then squeeze out your lemons with finger and thumb, Or a squeezer — bixt mind jow don't break it. A bottle of lemon juice thus you must get, And put in foiu' pounds of best sugar ; And be sure that you don't begin tasting as yet How nice the contents of the ' mug ' are. Three bottles of milk measured carefully out, When just ' on the boil ' you must pitch in y. But the amateur cook will burn it, no doubt. So you'd best get it boiled in the kitchen. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 257 Five bottles of rum in the mug you must mix, And witli three of cold water to follow. Thus you see if you count 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, It's half of it rum that you swallow. Then add, most important of all, — the bouquet — Orange bitters — a wineglass, if handy ; If you haven't them, put in a wineglass instead Of noyeau, and ditto of brandy. The Punch is now made. You can taste if it's good, And you then let it stand for nine hours. Never mind if it closely resembles the food That a pig with such relish devours. As often as possible it should be stirred. But be careful, though, not to upset it ; Then strain through new flannel, or, if it's preferred, A jelly bag — if you can get it. Some people unhappily cannot control Their impatience when stirring the liquor; They hurry it up by inserting the bowl Of a spoon, and of course make it thicker. Then bottle it, cork it, and seal it with cai'e, And, if you've an artist who's able To draw a good trade mark, a business-like air Is imparted by adding a label. A dozen of Punch is concocted, you see ; On its side in the cellar you set it ; And after a twelvemonth that liquor will be Pretty toothsome— and don't you forget it ! 17 258 UNPUBLISHED VERSES AN ACROSTIC AND LETTER TO FANNY ON HER ENGAGEMENT. "jl /TT dearest Coz, he offers you ■^■^ A liircL ill's liand ; And in the hush, that coiints as two, Ton understand. All is not gold that glitters. II. For nine long days he wore upon his heart This mystic word of Persian sages' art ; Then in the stream he flung the potent spell. And waited the result — it was a sell. III. Fh'st of her tribe, on solitary wing, She comes, hut finds that she has not brought Spring. IV. His mustang o'er the New World's plains He rides, sans saddle, bit, or reins ; And — pray don't let the ladies faint — His di'ess is but a coat of paint. V. She urged this savage horde to fight Like Britons, and be free or die. But when they faced the mailed might Of Claudius' host, 'twas " all my eye." ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 259 YI. Mounseer invokef5 "Blue Death " ; the German's oath Is"TausendTeiifeln," "Donner," "Wetter," "Blitz." John Bull's is rounder, more concise than both ; While Uncle Sam twangs slowly this and spits. YII. My flesh by artisans despised, By lords and gentlemen is prized. My names are Legion with ^q " nobs," But this I'm called by London Snobs. I promised to send you a Valentine, cousin, And I think this Acrostic's as long as a dozen. If you manage to guess it, why send me the answer. But you won't find it out — I think not, but I can't swear. It is not quite so easy as " Troistemps " or Lancer (Tou consider youi'self an uncommon good dancer). Fear not that my promise I've broken. Of which many clasped hands were the token ; I have not betrayed The pledge that I made ; Not a sotd has surveyed This sheet of cream laid, So be not dismayed Or the least bit afraid. Though a fierce cannonade Of cross-questions played On me, yet as I've said Tour secret I never have spoken. My firmness last Monday was splendid. Cross-examined by all, I defended 260 UNPUBLISHED VERSES My secret that night, Though they bothered me quite — Yes, they did, honour bright ! And I had such a fight ; Yet I cared not a mite. It was really a sight, They had hemmed me so tight That at last I polite- Ly took refuge in flight. But if Fanny would write And just free me from fright, By saying I might Tell her secret— all right. My heart will be light, And my face will be bright, And I'll say with delight, As friend Carl would observe, " AU is ended." Now, v,'ith love to Aunt Mary, And Sydney and Glavy, To yourself and to Ada, Not forgetting your " fader "— Excuse all mistakes, I'm writing in bed, And, believe me, your very affectionate Feed. p.S,_If you shortly don't send me that photo., I really won't answer for where you will go to. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 261 THE " MOIST AND JOVIAL." To Mrs. G. M. Parker. T ET others praise the hiscious goose, -'-' Or tm-key's tender slices ; Let others sing of Charlotte Russe, Or Gimter's peerless ices. Some love the saddle or the haunch, While some prefer the brisket ; But be it mine my soul to launch In praise of thee, O Biscuit ! What snipe or duck that e'er was I'oast, What grouse that ever was born. Can be compared with Extra-toast Or sweet seductive Osborne ? If some rich uncle were to die Ajid leave me wealth, I'd risk it, And 'gainst all other dainties I Would back my darling Biscuit. Some think Clicquot or Monopole Of ills a panacea; But I would urge the thirsty soul To try a Ratafia. Some love the frequent S & B Or ' Polly ' freely whiskied ; But thirst and hunger yields with me To one delightful Biscuit. 262 UNPUBLISHED VERSES At dawn I wake and always take A brace of Abernethies ; An Albert then to me at ten Of life the very breath is. Again at noon a Macaroon Revives my drooping spirits : Some folks prefer Bath Oliver — That also has its merits. At one I take an Oatmeal Cake To keep me in condition ; At lunch likewise a Captain tries My powers of deglutition. I like at tea a sweet Marie And eke an Orange Wafer ; I take at dusk the wholesome Rusk, Because I find it safer. Milk Biscuits constitute at eight My salutary dinner : I frequently assimilate A box, as I'm a sinner ! A Cracknel then I take at ten And down my throat I whisk it : From morn to eve, I do believe, I'm ne'er without a Biscuit. When Ascot tempts with champagne lunch I feel extremely festive. But, mindful of the morrow, munch The genial Digestive. When faint and weary, hot and dry. As in the waltz I frisk it, In the refreshment-room I cry " Give, oh, give me a Biscuit." ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 263 They tease me so, and call me " gi'een," And put me in a frenzy ; They crack their jokes at Peak and Frean, And laugh to scorn Mackenzie. But I have got one sui-e relief, I care not for theii* follies ; In eVry sort of pain and gi-ief A Biscuit is my solace. Some day I'll wa*ite a ditty rare, A Biscuit-panegyric ! To a fail- dame in Thui-loe Square I'll dedicate my lyi-ic ; And in dress-suit and choker white, And shirt superbly ii'oned, I'll sing thy praise with all my might, Thou moist and jovial viand ! Then in a bundle I will take A tooth-brush and my bedding. And on my own two feet I'll make A pilgrimage to Reading. There in the chm-ch's solemn nave My conscience will be calmer : I'll drop a tear on Huntley's gi-ave. And breathe a prayer for Palmer Christmas, 1884. 264 UNPUBLISHED VERSES DIRGE OF A DISAPPOINTED MAN. T NEVER nursed a dear gazelle — -*- You'll hardly credit the assertion — And on the whole it's just as well : Pets always were my pet aversion. Gazelles, I think, were rather rare. Or rather dear, where I resided ; Most people nurse them, I'm aware, But still I cannot say that I did. I got on pretty well without. And even if my hand I'd tried, There's not a shadow of a doubt The luckless creatm*e would have died. 'Twas ever thus from childhood's hour : I was a most unlucky wooer : The first I loved turned cross and sour When I began to cotton to her. My next, blue-eyed and darkly lashed, "With hair of fashionable yellow. Just when I was completely mashed, Got married to another fellow ! It's always been the same with me : Whene'er I think I've found my Yenus, She goes to France or Italy, And puts a thousand miles between us. Or else she breaks a leg or arm. Or catches some infectious fever, Ajdd the fair haii' that used to charm Begins reluctantly to leave her. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 265 I met a girl not long ago : Ah ! rarely have I seen her equal !— A girl it was a treat to know — I hai'dly need relate the sequel. We had such charming chats together : She had been living in the tropics ; And so we talked about the weather, And other interesting topics. She'd read till she was nearly blind — Such was her studious disposition — "Whole evenings she would feed her mind On Shakespeare in a cheap edition. Ah me ! I basked in smiles bewitching, As in the moonbeams basked Endymion ; For she was what I find most fetching In women — just a shade Bohemian. Once, if it had not been so late (Something occiu-red, of coui'se, to baulk us) We should have gone en tete-a-tete To tea at CharboneU and Walker's. Too soon my misery began : My awful luck will never leave me : I am a Disappointed Man ! You may or you may not believe me. Alas ! my gi-ief is past concealing : Like all the rest, away she goes ; And I may ne'er see A— F — On this side of the frrave ! Who knows ? ti'^ Januaet, 1885. 266 UNPUBLISHED VERSES AN AFTERNOON CALL. rTHROTJGH Tlmi-loe Square, without a " gamp," I chanced to pass : the air was damp. The sky grew dai-ker ; And when the rain began to fall, The time seemed opportune to call On Mrs. Parker. Myself and her I thought to please, Because she thinks a lot of these Polite attentions. A formal call I meant to pay, Say, " How d'ye do ? " and get away To the " Inventions." But man proposes here below, And woman — well, of com*se, you know The common saying ; I didn't like to seem a beast. And though I never had the least Design of staying. My charming hostess pressed me so, That really I could hardly go With due propriety. She said she felt by no means fit, And wanted waking up a bit By my society. And so I tried with might and main To strike a bright and lively vein Of conversation ; And every now and then, I trust, My stmiggling wit emitted just A scintillation. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 267 But liow could I be brisk and gay, When all my jokes were thrown away, Howe'er amusing ? I knew not why they fell so flat, Until I chanced to notice that Madame was snoozing ! I often ask, Why has my con- versation this efBect upon Her organs aiu'al ? Have I, a thinking, breathing man, In life no higher function than A dose of chloral ? I don't, for my part, care a fig, But still it does seem infra dig. For one's humanity. I know I talk an awful lot Of stuff that some call " Tommy -rot," An.d some, inanity. Perhaps I've smoked my wits away — My conversation, as you say, Is mainly drivel ; Yet though in it you cannot take Much interest — to keep awake Is only civil. But stay, Madame, though I'm a dimce, I've got a bright idea for once — I haven't many ; I think I see a way to tm-n My talents to account, and earn An honest penny. 268 UNPUBLISHED VERSES Tou know, when balmy sleep has failed, What misery and woe's entailed On weary mortals ; How in their beds they turn and toss, And ever strive in vain to cross Sleep's blessed portals. Now, scores and scores of remedies Have been brought out, and yet it is Most strange and curious. That no one has contrived to get A drug that takes effect, and yet Is not injm-ious. They patent some new cure each day. And vaunt its virtues. Need I say They overstate 'em ? A remedy that's harmless and Effectual, is still the grand Desideratum. 'Tis surely matter for surprise That gi-eat physicians — learned, wise, And scientific — Have racked theii* brains and laboui-ed much. But vainly, to discover such A soporific. Yet I — who, as you say, am dense — Not burdened with excessive sense. Nor intellectiial, Have managed to devise a cure That's easy, pleasant, safe, and sure, And most effectual. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 269 So I intend to advertise Myself a cure for aching eyes : It will be funny ! I feel convinced tlie thing will pay, And now at length I see my way To making money. I soon shall be in great demand : I see myself in mansions grand, And halls bai'onial ; And if a reference they crave, I'm sure, Madame, you'll give your slave A testimonial. The foe. Insomnia, I will strike With vapid jest and twaddle, like A skilful fencer. Old Morpheus shall my prowess see, And yield his title up to me — The Sleep-Dispenser. Mat 17, 1885. RETRIBUTION. THERE lived a youth not long ago, Whose fate deserves bewailing ; Though nice enough, as people go, He'd one disastrous failing. His indolence was so intense. He always was behind time ; Whate'er he'd plan he ne'er began, Because he couldn't find time. 270 UNPUBLISHED VERSES His debt to time lie could not pay, Yet never ceased to borrow ; He never did a thing to-day That could be done to-morrow. He never tried to cast aside Procrastination's fetters ; And worse than anything on earth He hated wi-iting letters. He never wrote the shortest note Except upon coercion. He coiild not think of pens and ink Without intense aversion. His letters they unanswered lay ; His friends were all neglected ; And they made use of much abuse, As might have been expected. 'Twas iiseless quite for them to wi'ite In language strong and stronger ; Till in the end a lady-friend Could stand the thing no longer. So with a frown she sat her down. And in her best handwi-iting A letter penned, from end to end Replete with satire biting. He read the cru-el letter through With anguish past concealing ; To tell the truth, he was a youth Of very tender feeling. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 271 His heart was wriing, his nerves unstrung, His very soul was stricken ; He laid his head upon his bed, And soon began to sicken. Too sensitive he was to live, And so he faded slowly ; But he confessed, ere laid to rest. It was his own fault wholly. Some friends were found his death-bed round. Early one winter morning ; And unto them at 2 a.m. He gave this solemn warning — " Confess I must, my fate is just, BiTt oh, my friends, do better ; You'll come to this, if you're remiss In answering a letter. EspeciaH^, if it should be A lady who's offended : Be warned in time to shun my crime, Nor do as Pattenden did." October, 1885. THE BROKEN BRACELET. Stamford Ball, 1886. HOW happy was I when she bore me Away on her arm to the Ball ; Had I known what a fate was before me I wouldn't have gone there at all. 272 UNPUBLISHED VERSES I was only a foolish young bracelet, And the thought never entered my head That 'twere better had I in my place let Some other be taken instead. But I was so proud of adorning The arm where I loved to be worn, And little I dreamt that the morning Would find me all broken and torn. All golden I daintily dangled ; To clasp the fair wrist was so sweet ; But now I'm so hopelessly mangled, I doubt if I'm even complete. With the dancers we joyously mingled, And all was so happy and bright ; My links I exultingly jingled — My way of expressing delight. When down on us some one came tearing, I cannot say who, but I think I shall not be far wi'ong in declaring It was one of those fellows in pink. How I wish that that colour were rarer ! For a notion appears to prevail That a pink coat entitles the wearer To romp on a magnified scale. I was forcibly seized by the middle. Like the grip of a giant it seemed ! And I think that the noise of the fiddle Was drowned by the scream that I screamed. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 273 It was only the work of a minute, An agony ran through my length, Axid I felt I was simply not in it When it comes to a trial of strength. It dragged all my fibres asunder ; What the pain was I never can say ; But I now understand — and no wonder ! — The meaning of " Scheiden thut loeh" A shattered and quivering bracelet, All helj)less I hung on her wrist ; And my owner within just an ace let Me tumble unnoticed, unmissed. In the pocket of somebody's waistcoat The rest of that evening I lay, And there, by the side of his dress-coat, I hung till the following day. And now I must go to the jeweller — Most horrible prospect of all ! — To be tortured with agonies crueller Than those I endured at the Ball. I remember — how well I remember! — The workshop wherein I was born ; It occurred in the month of December, About ten o'clock of the morn. I remember the pincers and pliers, The blowpipe, the tongs, and the rest ; And the heat of those terrible fires Was like — something that's better suppressed. 18 274 UNPUBLISHED VERSES I'm convinced on a calm diagnosis Of the tortiu-es attending my birth, That a more diabolical process Was never invented on earth. Now back to those torments they'll take me, To be tugged at and twisted and torn. Oh, why in the world did they make me ? I wish I had never been l)orn. For me all life's sweetness is ended — Its joys are all over for me ; I shall ne'er be again, when I'm mended, The bracelet I once used to be. January, 1886. A PARTING MESSAGE. After Edmund Waller. f^ O, lovely Rose ! ^ Tell her, that wastes her time on me, That now her nose In radiant hue resembles thee, So bright and red it seems to be. Tell her its point. That soars aloft in conscious pride, Is oiit of joint. Because I can no more abide A nose that looks as if 'twere dyed. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 275 Small is the worth Of beauty howsoe'er attired, But — Saints on earth !— I draw the line at noses fired With blushes not to be admired. Then die, that she Each morn on rising from her bed May learn of thee To dye her nose some tint instead, That's not so wondrous bright and red. 188G. y x/ "-/X^i^ \y >^ vy »^ y. TCH! A Shidy in pronunciation suggested by an argument on the word "Chivalry." /^NCE I dined at a charming old Tchateau, ^ A relic of tcMvalrous times, Looking down from a well-wooded plateau Of poplars and beeches and limes. The proprietor hailed from TcJiicago ; He'd rather the look of a tcharlatan ; The tchalelaine was quite a virago In yellow tchenille and pink tarlatan. The furniture looked like veneer, And was tarnished and soiled by the weather ; The ponderous gilt tcJiandelier Stood in need of a good fc?iamois-leather. 276 UNPUBLISHED VERSES The tchej was a simple beginner, And oil ! the tchampagne was so sweet ; While the claret we drank after dinner Was a libel on Tchateaii Lafitte. The daughter, named Tcharlotte — a plainer I Have never yet seen in creation — Tried with archness and wily tchicanery To entangle me in a flirtation. She'd an imp of a brother, Charles Edward, So called from the young Tchevalier : They ought to have packed him off bedward With an insect unnamed in his ear. This youth, up to all kinds of devili-y, Got behind an old dowager's chair, And, lost to all notions of tchivalry, Pulled off the poor woman's back-hair. The tchagrin of that elderly tcMperon, On seeing her tcMgnon appear, Hung up by the young whipper-snapper on The top of a high tchiffonier ! Then they played a tchm-ade, but the crowd Went on talking, and never once faltered, So I shouted out " tch 1 " very loud — I used to say "s/i .' " but I've altered. I happened to stand at ten thirty Before a ic/ievaZ-glass, and found That my shirt-front was shockingly dirty, So I ordered my pony-fcTiaise round. Mat, 1886. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 277 MY FAVOURITE PIPE. TTTHAT a nuisance ! Some rascally fellow Has collared my favourite pipe — The one that was always so mellow, So fragi'ant and nutty and ripe. Why on earth need the villain have chosen my favourite ? Hang him, whoever he is ! He shall pay for it. Without it I'm wretched and lonely, Distracted by sorrow and grief. Oh, what would I give if I only Could manage to find out the thief ! From the County Covu-t Judge I should certainly crave a writ : " Wrongful conversion, to wit," of my Favourite. The rascal he knew how to choose it, From all of the pipes lying round. Of coui'se he intended to use it For smoking himself, I'll be bound. Oh, he must be an artful experienced knave, or it Wouldn't have struck him to collar my Favourite. Any other I coiild have forgiven — But my favourite pipe ! It's no joke ; To my second-best now I am driven — It isn't a bad one to smoke. Though I hardly need say that for sweetness and flavour, it Doesn't begin to compare with my Favourite. 278 UNPUBLISHED VERSES How often I've smoked by the fire That briar^so precious to me ! That briar ! Stay — was it a briar ? Or could it have been — let me see— 'Pon my word, how absm-d ! I'm beginning to waver, it Might, after all, have been meerschaum, my Favoiu-ite. It's mouthpiece I'm positive— nearly — Was amber or horn, rather small ; It was ciu'ved — yes, I've now got it clearly — No ! wasn't it straight, after all ? I remember its taste, even now I can savour it — Odd, I've forgotten the shape of my Favourite. My brain in a muddle is whii-ling — 'Twas either a meerschaum and straight. Or else 'twas a briar and curling ; But which, I'm unable to state. There's one thing, however, I safely can say for it- Meerschaum or briar— that pipe was my Favomite. TO MABEL. "jITAID, who fillest my thoughts wheresoever I roaM, "^ At breakfast, at luncheon, at 5 o'clock teA, Be my song but the music of paper and comB, E'en thus will I sing, and sing only of theE. Love I cannot conceaL : Let thy heart, dearest, feeL Emotions of similar nature for mE. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 279 TO M. G. 'V'OU promised, fail' damsel, to give me a photo, -*- But in vain have I waited full many a day ; I really can't answer for where you will go to — But I now know what's meant by the " Promise of May." But at Christmas no rancour can lurk in my breast, Though I cannot help thinking you might have been kinder ; And so deep on my heart is your image impressed, That never, I trow, shall I need a reminder. A RECOMMENDATION FOR A CANTON GUIDE, WONG AYEW. T F you're wanting a guide, gentle toiu-ist, I pray you -*■ To tui-n your attention to Mr. Wong Ayew. He'll show you the sights of the City of Rams, And tell you a number of innocent crams ; Discourse on the customs, the laws, and religion, In English that's known by the epithet " pigeon " ; Show you opium dens, where the noble Celestial Rejoices to gi-ovel in lethargy bestial. The Com't which examines its prisoners by blows. Or fastens them up by their thumbs and great toes — Yes, try 'em by tortm-e, and hit on the raw ! That's true Chinese justice and Mandarin law. 280 UNPUBLISHED VERSES He'll rush you tlirough streets o£ unspeakable odoui's, To paper- shops, pawn-shops, and Chinese pagodas. In fact, when your peregrinations ai'e done, You'll agree that A-yew must be reckoned Al. Canton, December 8, 1882. TO SIGNOR DATTARI (Of Messrs. Thomas Cook and 8o7i). T"\ ATTARI, mighty minstrel of the mandolinic -*-^ measiu'e, A ttiming with thy magic touch oui- hearts to pain or pleasure ; T o thee, the wily hand at whist or euchre with the joker, T o thee, the Checker Champion — to thee, the Prince of Poker ! A t ease in jolting railway car, or steamer, foul and tarry, R iding in " rickshaw " Japanese, or eke Calcutta " gharry," I n ev'ry country finding home, I sing to thee, Dattari. '>/>ys •^ '>.rV'N '\^'V'V/V^/^.'\^V'N -^ 'V/vr MOTTO FOR DATTARI. Fk OES Any Traveller To A Route Incline ? ^ I Readily A Tour To All Define. S.s. Niigata Mane, December 1, 1882. ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 281 LINES WRITTEN IN THE AUTOGRAPH BOOK OF MISS KOUGH. (N.B. — Peonounced " Keogh.") A LADY has asked me to write her an " autograph," •^^ So she calls it, though really I don't kuow the sort o£ graph ; But such is my unprecedented docility, I meekly obey with becoming humility. Yet for nearly a week — I confess it with shame — I've vainly endeavoured to get at her name. And I've hitherto failed to discover a way To articulate " cough," when it's spelt with a " K." Can anyone anyhow give a poor wretch A tip for pronoxuicing K, O, U, G, H ? One would think at first sight it was easy enough, By all true analogy it should be Kough ; And I'm rather inclined to believe it, although There's authority surely for calling it Kough. Of course he's a hog, and should feed at a trough, Who'll dare for a moment to speak of Miss Kough. Perhaps after all I shall find when I'm through, That I've been the obedient slave of Miss Kough. But now through the roaring Atlantic we plough. So let us be nautical, eh. Miss Kough P And making a rhyme with a Yeo heave yeo. Let's finally settle your name as Kough. White Star S.s. Britannic, December 7, 1883. 282 VERSES FOR OR TO CHILDREN. IDerses for or to Cbilbren. POLL PARROT. TN Pongoland, far, far away, -*- Which lies beyond the sea, Where all the people, strange to say, Are black as black can be, A tree there was, so hard to climb. They tried with might and main ; Some got half up, but every time They tumbled down again. Of all the climbers far and near, Young Sambo was the best ; And he got up at last, and there He found a parrots' nest. He seized a young one by the wing. While roimd him in the aii* Its mother screamed and cried, poor thing ; But Sambo did not care. Then home he took his captive quick ; And when it cried for food. It got some porridge on a stick ; And thought it very good. VERSES FOR OR TO CHILDREN. 283 Now on the strand of Pongoland A strange old man was seen ; He lield a necklace in his hand Of beads all red and green. Now Sambo loved his Polly well, But beads he much preferred ; So when the man said, " Will you sell," He answered, "Take the bird." And Poll to England sailed next week On board the stranger's ship. The sailors taught her how to speak ; And Poll enjoyed the trip. Then caged, and always on the move, They hawked her round the street. She'd none to pet her, none to love. And nothing nice to eat. 'O Kind people bought her one fine day ; And so her story's done. She's always happy, always gay, And talks away like fun. TO DOLLY. THERE was a young lady named Dolly, Who was troubled with great melancholy ; So on going to bed She put ice on her head And filled up her pillow with holly. 284 VERSES FOR OR TO CHILDREN. You'd have thought the arrangement was folly ; But it very soon made her so jolly That she got up arrayed In a " chimmy," and played With a tortoiseshell cat and a dolly. «/^ /% /'\.f\^f\y^j'>' /% f^/^ /^/*» *Ny\ r\ '"v/x^v/v/'^y V TO RODNEY. A N odd little fellow at Granby •^-*- Said, " I fain would a sweet black-and-tan be." So he talked very gruff, Donned a pink and white ruff, And said, " Now I'm like it as can be." TO VIOLET HAMER (THE "DODO"). T\ ODOS are quite extinct, I've heard it saiD ; -*-^ Only I hardly think it can be sO. Do you believe it ? Turn your little heaD One moment to the glass, and answer " nO." Christmas, 1884. TO MAX. T'M sending some flowers to dear little Max — To get natural ones at this season is hard ; They are cheaper and don't fade so quickly in wax, But the nicest of all are those painted on card. VERSES FOR OR TO CHILDREN. 285 I TO GLADYS. SIT down to write On a Monday night (I ought to have wi-itten to you before), At 40 Hans Place, In the year of grace One thousand eight hundred and eighty-four. I'm wi'iting to say. My darling Gay, That I got your dear little yellow note. When it caiight my sight. It surprised me quite To see what a beautiful hand you wrote. And the pictures, too, That my Gladys drew On the opposite page, such a smart array ! I ne'er saw a better Or sweeter letter Than that which I got from my darling Gay. So when I come down To Reigate town, As I hope to do in a month or so, You'll have two or thi-ee Big kisses for me, For I was always " your Fred," jow know. And now I must say " Good night," my Gay, For it's getting late, and I'm off to bed. 286 VERSES FOR OR TO CHILDREN. So with fondest love. I remain, my dove, Your very affectionate Uncle Fred. P.S. — In this note I enclose a pliot- Ogvaph of myself. Get mamma to dock it. And cut off its head — So you'll have " your Fred " Hanging round your neck in a silver locket. ^ vx'^y\/'vy^rv''x/-^,y\^^.y x^j^vvyx/xy"* /V » ■ TO GEOFFREY. r^ 0, sweet elf, to my dear little Geoff, ^ Pitch your voice on the natural F- At the very tiptop of the clef — And shout in his ear till he's deaf, A Happy New Year to you, Geoff. TO GWENDOLEN. C\ O, sweet children, far away, " W here there dwells a sweeter ; E nter at the break of day, N ewly waking gi-eet her. D rop this flower upon her head, O ver her repeating : L ove from loving Uncle Fred, E very joy that Heaven can shed, N ew Year's fondest greeting. VERSES FOR OR TO CHILDREN. 287 TO CHARLIE. [Aged 4, witli a though its drift is somewhat different. The last version is one that I regard with grave sus- picion. Tou will observe that the other foiu' agree as to the first line, but here there is a divergence even in that. It runs thus : Alas ! how easily plates go wi'ong ! Exposed too little, exposed too long ! And there comes a mist and a haziness, And the print is never a great success. John Dryplate. This is evidently a slip of the pen for " John Dry- den," but I fail to find the lines among " Glorious John's " published works. It is possible that you may prefer this last version to the others, on the groxtnd MISCELLANEOUS VERSES. 319 that it avoids the word " things," which, as you justly remai'ked, is eminently ixnpoetical. I leave you to select from the five, merely adding that it is just within the range of possibility that none of them may be the correct version. I shall hear, I hope, when you retui*n to Town, so that I may avail myself of your permission to call. Tou will then perhaps tell me which, if any, of the above sugges- tions meets with your approval. Sincerely yours, r. W. Pattenden. A LETTER TO E. W. P. Boston. Tuesday. y^BES CHEBE MADAME,—! somehow am con- strained to write to you to-night, though I'm inclined, Madame, to say you were not kind the other day. The Ancient One I've just begun almost to hate — too late ! too late ! — for he's about to cut me out. I feel and know that it is so. Too late ! too late ! I can descry my cruel fate with half an eye. My heart, sweet dame, is broken quite ; but all the same it may come right — the pieces all, both great and small perhaps I may some future day with care collect, and I expect that I shall find some dame who'll not be disinclined to take the lot. I'm rather down in luck to-day ; from Grimsby 320 MISCELLANEOUS VERSES. town I went away without a brown my fare to pay. My abject grief is sad to see, for ne'er a brief will come to me. And well I kaow, tres chere Madame, tbat wben I go to ISTottingham on Thursday next, the same I'll find — I may be vexed, but never mind. And now adieu, Madame, to you. I write, you know, sweet dame, that so you may be brought just once again to give a thought to Pattendbn. ANOTHER LETTER TO E. W. P. r^ARISSIMA mia, I've got an idea Of spending a few days at Reigate ; My business is so Very heavy, you know, That it's rarely a holiday I get. I yearn and I bum For your speedy return, Tour absence has filled me with son-ow ; In town for my grief I can find no relief. So I start for the country to-morrow. If you're anxious to learn When I mean to ret^a•n, It possibly may be on Saturday ; If they want me to stay Until Monday, I may — But I'm sure to be back on the latter day. MISCELLANEOUS VERSES. 321 As you know my addi-ess, You can hardly do less Tlian send me a tender epistle ; Though, with so many chaps That you write to, perhaps, For a letter I'm likely to whistle. I hope that the air Of the country down there Will have made you as plump as a fattened hen ; On Monday we meet — I'm Like clockwork at tea-time — Youi"3 ever, F. W. Pattenden. •43, South Eaton Place, Wednesday, April 11, 1888. y N.'X'^. 'X' VVr V INDEX. PAGE Acrostic, An 28 Acrostic and Letter to Fanny on her Engagement ... 258 " A Fool and his Money " 132 After the Jubilee 229 Afternoon Call, An 266 " Alas ! how easily things go wrong," Parodies on ... 316 Almighty Dollar, The 89 Amateur Detective, The 154 Amateur Performance of " A Scrap of Paper," On an... 33 Amateur Theatricals Alphabet 315 Anti-Lucifer Match , The 67 Anti-Lucifer Match, The 217 Arctic Eegions, The... 8 At Sea 308 Births 26 Board of Works — Obituary 235 Boy-Kingcf Servia, The 255 Bribery and Corruption ... ... ... ... ... 163 Briefless Brigade, The 185 British Juror, The 158 Broken Bracelet, The 271 Busy Bee, The 196 Cat, The 231 Caution to Cabmen, A ... ... ... ... ... 166 Chin-Mower, The 221 Colonies,The 47 Commercial Traveller, The 233 Committeeman's Complaint, The... 174 Dead Secret, A 58 Dirge of a Disappointed Man, A ... 264 Draper's Dilemma, The ... ... ... 163 Dr. Brown's First Patient 75 Egg Machine, The 53 Elevated Eail way, The 37 "Excrescences" 201 324 INDEX. Fancy Bazaar, A First Class Gallant Skipper, The Girl's Grievance, A .. . Gladstone, Mr., and the Eisteddfod Gladstone, Mr., and the Wasp Goose and Gander ... Gordon to the Rescue Hair-breadth 'Scape, A Home Eule has Won " How is that for Low ? " Incident at Honolulu Indian Alphabet, An Inventions Committee, The Labby in our Abbey Law and the Ladies, The Lefroy, the Murderer of Mr. Gold, On Letter containing Parodies, A Letter to E. W. P Letter to E. W. P Lines written in the Autograph Book of Miss Kough 281 Lord Tomnoddy Melancholy Stranger's Yarn, The Missing Link, The " Moist and Jovial," The Motto for Dattari My Confession My Favourite Pipe My First Love Names of certain Actresses Ehymed New Obadiahs, The New Tear's Thoughts : 1888 New York Elevated Railway : The " L " Night Thoughts Nonsense Verses " Not To-day, Baker ! " Nursery Ehyme Revised Ode to a Masher Off! PAGE . 101 . 247 . 29 . 64 , 239 . 241 , 190 . 236 , 195 . 206 . 298 , 304 , 289 , 214 , 192 207 231 316 319 320 120 299 248 261 280 183 277 93 313 193 208 34 39 27 252 233 138 203 INDEX. 325 PAGE On some Christmas " Verses " 313 "One Good Turn Deserves Another" 202 One More Eiver 22 "Orange" Ehymed 232 P. & O. ss. Ganges 293 Paddy's Eeflections on the Fourth of July 181 Pairs and the All-Night Sitting 245 Parliamentary Alphabet 234 Parn ell on his " Last Link " Speech 249 Parting Message, A 274 Passenger for Crewe 128 Patriot's Plaint, A 198 Persia 1 Poll Parrot 282 "PoorGreen!" 106 Pope and Monte Carlo, The 314 PracticalJoke, The Story of a 81 Printing 4 Eape of the Moustache, The 250 " Eational Dress " Crusade, The 71 Eecipe for Milk Punch 256 Eecommendation for a Canton Guide 279 Eetribution 269 Sailor Lad to his Sweetheart, The 309 Sherman and Sheridan 38 Sketches at the " Inventories " 42 SongofanE.A 304 Song of the Starving Electors 178 Stranger at Mac Vittey's, The 113 Tale of a Tin Box, The 143 Teh! 275 The Chair ! The Chair ! The Chair ! 238 " The Ladies' Darling " 301 To Charlie 287 ToDoUy 283 To Geoffrey 286 To Gladys 285 To Gwendolen 286 To Mabel 278 To Max 234 ToM. G 279 To Phyllis 287 326 INDEX. To Eodney To Signor Dattari ... To Violet Hamer Trevelyan the Trimmer Trip on the Zealandia Two Christmas Cards " Vies " et Praeterea Nihil Visit of the Prince of Wales to India Voice from Delphi, A Wail of a Weary M.P., The Wanted— A Lift War Symptoms W. E. G Welcome to the Prince of Wales on his India " We'll all go a-hunting with Eea " Working Man's Woes, The Eeturn from PAttE 284 280 284 241 26 288 189 11 199 150 171 253 314 18 294 169 Yokohama Amateur Eegatta 30 LOKDON : W. SPKAIGHT AND SONS, PRINTERS, FETTER LANE. ^^3 i 1 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. Form L9-32m-8,'57(,C8680s4)444 5149 1891 Verses m 5149 P2726A17 1891 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY iliilliilililiiliiliilliiliiliini AA 000 452 920 2