Forthwith this tongue of mine was stirred
  To quenchless fluency,
  Which forced me to begin my tale,
  As now I tell it thee.

  Since then, at an uncertain hour,
  This ecstasy returns;
  And till my thrice-told tale is through
  The heart within me burns.

I pass, like Puck, from land to land,
I have strange power of speech;
That moment that his face I see
I know the man that must hear me,
To him my tale I teach.

* * * * *

What loud uproar bursts from that door! 
They’re at it hotly there: 
Will they be silenced by the tale
Told by the Mariner? 
Bim!  Boom!  There goes Big Ben’s deep bell! 
The Speaker’s in the Chair!

* * * * *

[Illustration:  THE PARLIAMENTARY “ANCIENT MARINER.”

  “IT IS AN ANCIENT MARINER,
  AND HE STOPPETH ONE OF THREE. 
  ’BY THY SCANT GREY LOCKS AND GLITTERING EYE,
  NOW WHEREFORE STOPP’ST THOU ME?’”
]

* * * * *

[Illustration:  A CHECK.

Huntsman.  “SEEN THE FOX, MY BOY?”

Boy.  “NO, I AIN’T!”

Huntsman.  “THEN, WHAT ARE YOU HOLLARIN’ FOR?”

Boy (who has been scaring Rooks). “’COS I’M PAID FOR IT!”]

* * * * *

THE DEATH PENALTY; OR, WHO’S TO BLAME?

ACT I.

  SCENE—­House of Commons, rather sparsely attended, it being
    the occasion of a statement on the needs of the Army to be
    made by the Secretary for War.

Secretary for War (continuing his speech).  And so, Mr. SPEAKER, I trust that I have justified the demand I have made for so many millions for building Barracks, and conclusively proved that the Authorities responsible for our military efficiency are thoroughly alive to the necessity not only of safeguarding the lives, but of increasing the comfort, of our gallant defenders. (Cheers.)

ACT II.

  SCENE—­Celebrated London Barracks.  Fire just broken out in
    top storey of Married Soldiers’ Quarters, crowded with women
    and children.  Soldiers rushing for ladders.  Some children
    handed up through a trap-door, which is supposed to lead to
    roof.  No exit on to roof available, and children being slowly
    smothered.  Screams.  Great excitement.

Non-Commissioned Officer.  Ha!  Fire in the “Rookery!” And it’ll burn like paper, being old and rotten!  Now, where’s the fellow who ought to have the key of the hydrant? (Exit in search of him.)

Labourer employed at Barracks (entering hastily).  Hullo!  A fire!  Where’s that key of mine for the hydrants?  Can’t attend to that, however, as there’s my wife and family to be saved! (Rushes out, and hydrants cannot be unlocked for ten minutes.  When they are, they are found to be without water!)