(_Suggested by Mr. SIMONIS' recently published volume._)
O Street of Ink, O Street of Ink,
Where printers and machinsts swink
Amid the buzz and hum and clink;
By night one cannot sleep a wink,
There is no time to stop or think,
One half forgets to eat or drink,
One's brains are knotted in a kink,
One always lives upon the brink
Of "happenings" that strike one pink.
One day the dollars gaily chink,
The next your funds to zero shrink.
And yet I'm such a perfect ninc-
Ompoop I cannot break the link
That binds me to the Street of Ink.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Tommy_ (_to Officer who has only arrived in the trench by
accident_). "IF YOU'RE A-LOOKIN' FOR THE BURIED CABLE, SIR, IT'S FURTHER
ALONG."]
* * * * *