* * * * *

Why is the Dissolution of Parliament like the human tongue?—­Because it is in everybody’s mouth.

* * * * *

“CUTS!” OR, WE NEVER SPEAK AS WE PASS BY.

[Illustration:  Otto, the Wedding-Guest, singeth:—­]

  We never speak as we pass by! 
    Alas! it was not always so. 
  But now I cannot catch his eye,
    And, when I come, he’s prompt to go.
  “Il me reverra.” So I said
    When I resigned, his love to try,
  But see how WILHELM turns his head! 
    We never speak as we pass by!

  Not indispensable!  Absurd! 
    I built the Empire, made the Crown. 
  Of Emperor WILHELM who had heard
    But for my prowess and renown? 
  And Emperor WILHELM cocks his nose,
    Regards me with averted eye;
  And, just as though, we now were foes,
    We never speak as we pass by!

  The boy, the ingrate, the young cock,
    Who thinks he’s eagle when he crows;
  Old Aquila is he to mock? 
    I’ll cut his comb ere matters close. 
  And yet, and yet he keeps it up,
    And Germany demands not why! 
  He bangs away like a big Krupp—­
    We never speak as we pass by.

  My HERBERT, you should hold my place,
    But you must share your sire’s cold snub. 
  Did I promote the lion’s race
    To be kicked out by its least cub? 
  This wedding-favour’s gay and smart. 
    I to Vienna’s bridal fly;
  But something rankles in my heart;—­
  We never speak as we pass by!

  Will FRANCIS-JOSEPH see his way
    To—­help Coriolanus back? 
  I can’t believe I’ve had my day;
    It makes ambition’s heart-strings crack. 
  But that imperious youngster shuts
    The door of hope howe’er I try. 
  Are we for ever to be “cuts,”
    And never speak as we pass by?

* * * * *

[Illustration:  ADVANTAGES OF MARSUPIALISM.

“I’M SO TIRED, MUMMY.  I WISH YOU WERE A KANGAROO!”

“WHY, DARLING?”

“TO CARRY ME HOME IN YOUR POCKET!”]

* * * * *

AN EARL’S COURT IDYL.

SCENE—­A knick-knack stall outside the Wild West Arena.  Behind the counter is a pretty and pert maiden of seventeen or so.  A tall and stately Indian Warrior, wrapped in a blue blanket, lounges up, and leans against the corner, silent and inscrutable.

The Maiden (with easy familiarity).  ’Ullo, CHOC’LIT, what do you want? (The Chieftain smiles at her with infinite subtlety, and fingers a small fancy article shaped like a bottle, in seeming confusion.) Like to see what’s inside of it?  Look ’ere then. (She removes the cork, touches a spring, and a paper fan expands out of the neck of the bottle; CHOCOLATE is grimly pleased, and possibly impressed, by this phenomenon, which he repeats several times for his own satisfaction.) Ah, that fetches you, don’t it, CHOC’LIT? (The Warrior nods, and says something unintelligible in his own tongue.) Why don’t yer talk sense, ‘stead o’ that rubbish?