* * * * *
[Illustration: "NEB'LAR (HIC) 'POTHESIS."
_Elderly Gentleman_ (_overcome by gravitation_). "'ORRIGHT,
INSPECTRUM. BEEN READING SPEESH--PRES'DENT BRI'SH-SOSHIASHLEM.
SHPLENDID SPEESH! I'M IN 'UNIQUE POSISHN 'F (HIC) ABSOLUTE IMM'BILITY
IN MIDSHT OF WHIRLING 'N DRIFTING SUNS, 'N SYSHTEMS 'F SUNS.' GOOD OLD
HUGGINS!!"]
* * * * *
ODE TO A BAROMETER.
(_BY A TROUBLED TAPSTER._)
I tap you early, tap you late,
In vain!
We get--whatever _you_ may state--
Much rain.
The Woodpecker of which fools sing
Ne'er tapped
Half so persistently. Since Spring
I've rapped
Your fair false dial day by day,
And yet
The end--whatever you may say
Is wet!
'Twas wet in June, and in July
Wet too;
In August it is wetter. Why,
Trust _you_?
Barometer, you false old chap,
You bore!
I'm no Woodpecker, and I'll tap
No more!
* * * * *
"NOTHING IN THE PAPERS!"
_OR, VOLUNTARY CONTRIBUTIONS UN-GRATEFULLY RECEIVED._
SCENE--_A Railway Compartment. BROWN and SMITH _looking up
from their Daily Papers._
_Brown_. Now that Parliament stands prorogued, I suppose there is
nothing to read?
_Smith_. Nothing. Except this article upon Australia. Tells one
all about Capital and Labour in _that_ part of the world.
Pages:
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40