["At present the followers are obliged to be amiable because
the Leader is amiable. Under the Leader I suggest they would
be less amiable, and would be at liberty to say stronger
things."--Mr. ATKINSON, M.P., _in the House of Commons_.]
_CHORUS OF AMIABLE TORIES._
Hear! hear! Mr. A. We are amiable too,
For we follow our amiable Leader, like you;
But when forced to say, "Bless you!" we choke with our spleen,
And we add, _sotto voce_, "You know what I mean."
While we sit spick and span as a picture by FRITH,
And contend with our feelings, to please Mr. SMITH.
Oh, we pule and we prate, we are nerveless and weak,
And we swallow, like _Pistol_, the odorous leek.
We palter with truth, and we flatter our foes,
And we cringe, and we crawl, and are led by the nose.
We are fools soft of speech, and without any pith,
For we smother our feelings to suit Mr. SMITH.
Time was when a Member who hated the Celt
Might detest him aloud and declare what he felt.
He might use the crisp words which, if lacking in length,
Make up for their shortness by meaning and strength.
But now we all fawn on the Celt and his kith,
While we smother our feelings to suit Mr. SMITH.
So, friends, we must choose a new Leader, and then,
With a Man at our head we shall quit us like men:
We shall always retort with a sting when we're stung,
With the bees in our bonnet, the D's on our tongue.
And the words that are honeyed shall fade like a myth,
When an ATKINSON stands in the shoes of a SMITH.
* * * * *
[Illustration: GENUS IRRITABILE.
_First Bard._ "SEEN MY SONNETS IN THE _PACIFIC WEEKLY_?"
_Second Bard._ "YES."
_First Bard._ "LIKE THEM?"
_Second Bard._ "WELL,--A--_CANDIDLY_--I--"
_First Bard._ "OH, IF IT COMES TO THAT, _CANDIDLY_ I ALWAYS HATED YOUR
BEASTLY BALLADES AND RONDELS AND ROT IN THE _ERECHTHEUM_--BUT I HAD
THE DECENCY NOT TO _TELL_ YOU SO!"]
* * * * *