[Illustration]
Ten minutes here! The sun is sinking
And longingly we've long been thinking,
Of Tea, Tea, fragrant Tea!
The marble slabs we gather round,
They're long in bringing what is wanted.
The china cup with draught embrown'd
Our thirsty souls are wholly haunted
By Tea, Tea, fragrant Tea!
Now then, you waiter, stir, awaken!
Time's up. I'll hardly save my bacon.
Tea, Tea, bring that Tea!
At last! The infusion's rayther dark.
But hurry up! Can't stay for ever!
One swig! Br-r-r-r! Hang the cunning shark!
Will't never cool? Nay, never, never!
Tea, Tea, scalding Tea!
More milk; don't be an hour in bringing!
Heavens! That horrid bell is ringing!
"Take your seats, please!" Can't _touch_ the Tea!
Cup to the carriage must not take;
Crockery may be lost, or broken;
Refreshment sharks are wide awake.
But--many a naughty word is spoken
O'er Tea, Tea, scalding Tea!
* * * * *
NOTHING NEW.--The Editor of the _Gentlewoman_ announces a forthcoming
novel to be written by about a dozen or more novelists. _Mr. Punch_
highly commends this spirited enterprise. The scheme is not absolutely
a novelty, as in _Mr. Punch's_ pages some time ago, was there not
a "Limited Novel Co." of Authors and Artists to produce "Chikkin
Hazard?" They combined, but did not collaborate. But any way, success
to the _Gentlewoman_!
* * * * *
"WHERE IS DAT BARTY NOW?"--After the recent suicide of _le pauvre
Général_, the Boulangist party cannot be said to have been left
without leaders, at all events, in England, as they have had leaders
in all the papers, and actually two in the _Times_.
* * * * *