(_A Song for the Drouthy, someway after Southey._)
_How did the Topers come down to the Polls?_
Here they came shouting,
And there they came flouting,
Teetotalers scouting, and HARCOURT mis-doubting,
With banners, and big bills, and trumpets and song.
With pint-pots and flagons,
In drags, brakes and wagons,
As valiant as lions, as fiery as dragons,
They hastened along united and strong!
'Midst braying of brass and 'midst clouds of tobacco,
With jubiliant shouts for "The Union Jack, O!"
With jovial manners, and patriot banners,
'Midst bung-lauding boasters, with big scarlet posters,
In Sunday-best garments superbly arrayed;
'Midst shoutings from "cadgers," with scarves and with badges,
With rubicund faces, limp collars, loose braces,
With dry-as-dust throttles, and handy case-bottles,
With blonde buxom Beauty to aid 'em in duty,
And bystanders funning, and little boys running,
And stentor-toned shouts for "The Cause" and "The Trade"!!!
All florid and torrid,
Damp shirts and moist forehead,
From near slum and far court,
With railings at HARCOURT,
And wit-aping WILFRID, and truculent CAINE.
With shouts for Sir MICHAEL,
By 'bus, and by cycle,
Afoot, and well-mounted, by tram and by train.
All glowing and blowing,
Red cards about throwing,
And rushing, and crushing, and flushing,
And laughing, and chaffing, and quaffing;
And jeering, and sneering, and "beering,"
And skipping, and tripping, and "nipping,"
And hasting, and pasting, and tasting;
And hopping, and popping, and mopping,
Perspiring, and wiring.
But ever untiring.
And drinking, and chinking, and blinking, and winking,
And sometimes unthinking, but ever unshrinking,
And gladdening, and maddening,
And t'other side saddening,
Friends brightening, foes frightening, interiors tightening,
And warming, and forming, and storming;
And flattering, and clattering, and battering, and shattering;
Arising, surprising, all foes pulverising,
And giving them "toko" on temperance "boko."
And flashing, and dashing, and crashing, and smashing, and hashing,
And propping, and stopping, and copping, and lopping, and topping, and
whopping;
And backing, and tracking, and blacking, and hacking, and smacking, and
whacking,
And "giving 'em beans."
(You know what _that_ means!)
And shouting, "We vote all against Cant Teetotal!
We'll beat up each _Bardolph_, and _Pistol_, and _Peto_,
To give its quietus to villainous Veto.
And kick out the duffers The Trade who would queer
And rob (big caps., please!) THE POOR MAN OF HIS BEER!!!
Out, out on the foes of our Freedom--and Liquor!
They'll follow their Leader--the sooner the quicker!
The Lords they may floor, and the Church may assault,
But they've met with their match in the Champions of Malt!
All together, brave souls!
See, our phalanx on-rolls!!!"
And _that_'s how the Topers came down to the Polls!
* * * * *
MAINTAINING THE UNION.--The _Sheffield Daily Telegraph_, in
referring to the success of Mr. G. H. ALLSOPP at Worcester,
just prior to that eminent Unionist taking unto himself a wife,
suggests that the newly-elected M.P. should follow the precedent set
by Mr. GRIFFITH-BOSCAWEN in 1892, and give to each of his
bridesmaids a brooch with the amount of his majority engraved upon it.
This is all very well in its way. But the total at Tunbridge was 933,
while that of Worcester extended to four figures. So to give room for
labelling, the brooch should be changed to a bracelet. A man bearing
the honoured name of ALLSOPP should be appropriately equal to
the XX's.
* * * * *
A QUESTION TO OUTSIDERS.--"Won't you come round?" was the
invitation (as reported in the _Daily Graphic_) given by Sir HENRY
IRVING (after his speech on Friday afternoon) to his "friends in
front." But it is a question addressed to many outside the theatre and
the theatrical profession; to all sorts and conditions of men and women
who still regard the stage askance, and who look upon the ultimate
fate of theatre-goers and actors as a melancholy certainty. To these
persons, whether a minority or a majority,--in either case a "narrow"
one,--Sir HENRY'S kindly invitation is publicly addressed, and
it is "Won't you come round?"
* * * * *
[Illustration: A SUNDAY DINNER.
_Father of Family_ (_who has accidentally shot the leg of a Fowl under
the table_). "MIND T'DOG DOESN'T GET IT!"
_Young Hopeful_ (_triumphantly_). "ALL RIGHT, FEYTHER! I'VE GOTTEN
ME FOOT ON IT!"]
* * * * *