_Poor Income-Tax Payer, loquitur_:--
Please give me a Penny, Sir!
My hope is almost dead;
You hold the swag in that black bag,
And high you lift your head.
Some years I have been asking this,
But no one heeds my plea.
Will you not give me _something_ then,
_This_ year, good Mister G.?
Oh! please give me a Penny!
Please give me a Penny, Sir!
_You_ won't say "no" to me,
Because I'm poor, and feel the pinch
Of dreadful "Schedule D"!
You're so high-dried, and so correct,
So honest and austere!
Remember the full "Tanner," Sir,
I've stumped up year by year,
And please give me a Penny!
Please give me a Penny, Sir!
My Income is but small,
And the hard Tax laid on our backs
I _should_ not pay at all.
But I'm too feeble to resist,
And do not like to lie;
And Sixpence, under Schedule D,
Torments me till I cry,
Do please give me a Penny, Sir!
Consols, or Dividends, or Rents
Don't interest _me_ much;
"Goschens," reduced or otherwise,
Are things _I_ may not touch,
Two hundred pounds per year, all told,
Leaves little room for "exes;"
And 'tisn't only _public_ men
That "lack of pence" much vexes.
So please give me a Penny, Sir!
The mysteries of High Finance
I don't presume to plumb;
So year by year my back they shear,
Sure that they'll find _me_ dumb.
But the oft-trodden worm will turn;
"Demand Notes" never slack;
And "Schedule D" fast at twice three,
Breaks the wage-earner's back.
So please give me a Penny, Sir!
The moneyed swells who make "returns,"
Much at their own sweet will,
Don't gauge the poor clerk's scanty purse,
The small shopkeeper's till,
How hard 'tis to make both ends meet,
When hard times tightly nip;
Or how small incomes sorely feel
The annual sixpenny dip.
So please give me a Penny, Sir!
Please give me a Penny, Sir!
'Tis heard on every side,
Muttered by poverty's pinched lip,
Silent so long--from pride.
Ah! listen to their pleadings, Sir,
And pity the true poor,
Whose life is one long fight to keep
The wolf from the house-door.
Oh, please give me a Penny, Sir!
* * * * *
"ROOSE IN URBE."--Dr. ROBSON ROOSE has returned to town after a trip to
Madeira.
* * * * *
"SWEET STRIFE."
_By an Unionist M.P._
When PARNELL's mocked by HEALY,
In strident voice and squealy;
When HEALY'S snubbed by PARNELL,
In voice as from the charnel--
I understand the windy
Wild charm of WAGNER'S shindy.
Discord _may_ be melodious,
When Harmony sounds odious;
Than _Israfel_ more dear is
Old Erin's latest _Eris!_
* * * * *