Let meaner souls make merry
O'er cups of ruby wine,
With claret, port or sherry
Their tunes incarnadine;
Let little boys emphatic
Become o'er ginger b.
Myself I grow ecstatic
About a drink called "Tea."
Tea elevates one's pecker,
Rejuvenates the mind,
Enriches the exchequer,
Yet never makes men "blind";
When footsore and effete I'm
From every ache set free,
And not alone at tea-time
I thank the Lord for "Tea."
It tells of balmy breezes
That blow "o'er Ceylon's isle"
(While HEBER mostly pleases
His accent here is vile)--
Of some far-flung plantation
Where Hindus bend the knee;
And would my occupation
Were prefixed (ah!) by "Tea"!
'Tis told in classic fable
The nectar served to Zeus
At his Olympic table
Was just a vinous juice;
That such is purely fiction
I heartily agree,
Having the sound conviction
'Twas nothing less than "Tea."
* * * * *
"PARIS, SATURDAY.
The Conference will be held in the imposing Salle de la Grande
Horloge. The 'hall of the great clock' is about 30in. long by
15in. wide."--_Liverpool Echo_.
"Imposing," indeed.
* * * * *
"Manchester's £6,000,000 scheme for obtaining water supplies
from Haweswater was approved last night at a meeting of
ratepayers in the Town Hall. The annual increased consumption
of water had been a little over a million gallons per head per
day."--_Daily Dispatch_.
The new slogan of the temperance enthusiasts--What Manchester drinks
to-day England will drink to-morrow.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Visitor_. "BUT THOSE ATTACKS OF MALARIA DON'T LAST
LONG, DO THEY?"
_Tommy_. "MINE ISN'T ORDINARY MALARIA. THE DOCTOR CALLS IT
'MALINGERING MALARIA.'"]
* * * * *