BITING and keen as any razor
The fluent pen of LOVAT FRASER;
And swift as arrows, thick as hail,
His outbursts in _The Daily Mail_,
Exposing in impassioned phrase
The PREMIER'S wild and wicked ways.
And yet the PREMIER doesn't squirm,
No, not a bit--the pachyderm!
But goes about with cheerful mien,
As if such things had never been.
So LOVAT FRASER grows emphatic
In efforts to be more dogmatic,
And down the column, once a week,
_His shrill italics fairly shriek._
But does the PREMIER bow his back
And go and give himself the sack?
Not he. Indeed, for all he troubles,
His critic might be blowing bubbles.
It's up to LOVAT FRASER now
To make an even bigger row;
I'd like to see the sturdy fellow
Write articles that simply bellow.
I think the PREMIER might perhaps
Shiver and possibly collapse
IF LOVAT GOT TO WORK IN "CAPS."
* * * * *
The Black Swan of Avon.
"A NATIVE DRAMA
Entitled
'Inu vere ki pani'
(Popularly known as Merchant of Venice, but beautified and enlarged
to local taste), Interspersed with Popular Dialogues, latest Songs,
etc. Will (D. V.) be rendered by the ---- Guild."--_West African
Poster._
* * * * *
[Illustration: WHAT OUR BOHEMIANS HAVE TO PUT UP WITH.
_Shabbily-dressed person._ "I'VE LOST THE TICKET, BUT I LEFT A HAT.
THAT'S IT OVER THERE."
_Attendant._ "I MUST ASK YOU TO FIND THE TICKET, SIR, PLEASE. THE HAT
THAT YOU INDICATE IS QUITE NEW."]
* * * * *