[Some indignation has been expressed at the manners of many of
the "well-dressed mob" at the Prince of WALES's Reception
at the Imperial Institute on Wednesday night last, manners
displayed in rudely "mobbing" the Royal party, and hissing,
hooting, and shouting "Traitor!" at Mr. GLADSTONE, one of the
Prince's guests.]
EH? Indignation? Why _such_ passion waste?
Gladstoneophobia has destroyed Good Taste;
And rowdy rudeness does not shock, but please,
"The mob of gentlemen who _hoot_ with ease.
As for the ladies, bless their angry hearts!
They've Primrosed into playing fish-wife parts;
And now 'tis one of Patriotism's tests
That you should hiss and hoot your fellow-guests.
Should they dare don a rival party vesture;
Billingsgate rhetoric and Borough gesture
Invade the (party) precincts of Mayfair--
To express the vulgar wrath now raging there.
We are Mob-ruled indeed--when Courtly Nob
Apes, near his Prince, the manners of the Mob!
The hoot is owlish; there are just two things
That hiss--one venom-fanged, one graced with wings.
Anserine or serpentine, ye well-dressed rowdies?
Dainty-draped dames, or duffel-skirted dowdies,
They who in rudeness thus their spite would slake,
Have plainly head of goose, and heart of snake!
So why indulge in indignation blind
'Gainst those who hiss or hoot--after their kind?
* * * * *
[Illustration: "THE MINSTREL BOY."
LORD S-L-SB-RY (_sings_). "I'LL HARP WILD WAR, AYE, FROM SEA TO SEA,
ERE THE LOYALISTS STOOP TO SLAVERY!"]
* * * * *
"O SINO SAN!"