_A LAY FOR THE LIFEBOAT SERVICE._
[An urgent appeal is made on behalf of the Royal National
Lifeboat Institution, which is declared to be "in dire
financial straits," the deficit for last year being £33,000.
Subscriptions and donations will be thankfully received
by CHARLES DIBDIN, Esq., Secretary, R.N.L.I., 14, St. John
Street, Adelphi, London, W.C.]
True "tuneful CHARLEY is no more,"
As DIBDIN's Monument informs us;
But memory of the man who bore
That honoured name still stirs and warms us.
And here's another of his name,
Who still the British Sailor's serving;
Then who could see without sore shame
JOHN BULL from _his_ plain duty swerving?
Thirty-three Thousand to the bad,
Our Lifeboat Service, once our glory?
Nay, JOHN, that will _not_ do, my lad;
Next year must tell a different story.
Think, what would "tuneful CHARLEY" say
To such a thing? In racy lingo,
Upon our backs his lash he'd lay,
And give the slothful Britons "stingo."
Thirty-five thousand lives they've saved,
Our Life-boat rescuers, already.
The seas around our shores they've braved,
With valour prompt and patience steady.
Shall they be floored for _L.S.D._,
Because JOHN BULL his pockets buttons?
Then the old keepers of the Sea
Must be, in pluck, as dead as muttons.
True, lads, on such a text as this
"We sadly miss old CHARLEY's line;"
But were we mute, Neptune would hiss
His sons degenerate off the brine.
Old "CHARLEY" spins his yarns no more!
He's dead, as _Scrooge_ declared old _Marley_.
What then? Wake up, from shore to shore,
And--send your guineas to _Young_ CHARLEY!
* * * * *
"GREAT SCOT!"
[Extorted, by circumstances beyond his control, from a stolid
but unsuccessful Saxon Shootist at Bisley and Wimbledon, after
the match at the latter place between picked twenties of the
London Scottish and the London Rifle Brigade, won easily by
the former team.]
Oh! the Scot lot are all cracks at a shot,
And extremely successful at Hunting the Pot.
This particular "Saxon" the hump has got,
Being licked by a team which is Picked _and_ Scot.
* * * * *
[Illustration: SETTING THEIR CAPS AT HIM; OR, AN AUTOCRAT IN ODD
COMPANY.
["Never," said the CZAR, at the Imperial dinner to which
the Officers of the French Fleet were invited, "could I have
believed that Republican Sailors, that Republican Soldiers,
could have such a bearing."--_Times_.
"The CZAR has, at the instance of the United States, ordered a
temporary relaxation of the measures for the expulsion of the
Jews from Russia."--_Times_.]
_Autocrat_ (_aside_). "HUMPH! CHARMING CREATURES, BOTH; BUT CAN'T SAY
I LIKE THEIR COSTUMES!"]
"How happy could I be with either?"
Humph! N-n-o-o, I can hardly say _that_!
Yet here we are, tripping together,
Republics and proud Autocrat!
Two cats and a Boreal Bruin!--
So satire will say, I've no doubt.
And some will declare it must ruin
The Russdom once ruled by the knout.
I wonder--I very much wonder--
What NICK to this sight would have said--
I fear he'd have looked black as thunder,
And savage as RURIC the Red.
For this did we lose the Crimea?
For this did we larrup the Jews?
I really had not an idea
Republics could rule--and amuse.
Miss FRANCE looks extremely coquettish.
How well Miss COLUMBIA can coax!
The Teuton, no doubt, will look pettish,
The Briton will grumble "a hoax."
Aha! I can snub a Lord Mayor,
And give shouting Emperors a hint;
I back _La Belle France_. Her betrayer
My meaning must see, plain as print.
My reply to the great Guildhall grumble
Had less of politeness than pith,
But--well I've no wish so to humble
My friend Mr. EMORY SMITH,
Or CRAWFORD, the Consul. No thank ye,
_Persona gratissima_, he;
And therefore I yield to the Yankee
The boon I refused to J.B.
But yet, all the same, it _is_ funny
To see Three like us in One Boat.
COLUMBIA looks dulcet as honey,
Miss F.'s every glance is a gloat.
I never imagined Republics
Could have such a "bearing" as these.
Enjoyingly as a bear cub licks
The comb sweetly filled by the bees,
I list to their flattering-chatter;
Their voices are pleasant--in praise;
But--well, though it seems a small matter,
I _don't_ like that dashed "_Marseillaise_."
And "_Israel in Egypt_" sounds pointed
I'd Pharaoh the miscreants--but stay,
My soliloquy's getting disjointed,
I've promised! COLUMBIA looks gay,
_La Belle France_ displays a _grande passion_;
My arms they unitedly press.
One thing though; the Phrygian fashion
Is not _my_ ideal of dress.
They swear that they both love me dearly,
Their "best of old Autocrat Chaps!"
They are setting their Caps at me, clearly,
But,--well, _I don't quite like the Caps!_
* * * * *