Coster Bill sings:—­

  Last week down our way there come a chap,
  Sort o’ “Sausage.”  Lots o’ go and snap. 
  Twigs my Missus, and takes orf ’is cap,
    In a (German) gentlemanly way. 
  “Ma’am,” says ’e, “I’ve ’appy news to tell. 
  SOL, of ’Atfield (rich old Tory Swell),
  Snuffed it recent, to ’is sort a sell,
    Leaving you this little Donkey Shay.”

CHORUS.

    “Wot cher!” all the neighbours cried,
      “Who’re yer goin’ to meet, BILL? 
      ’Ave yer bought the street, BILL?”
    Laugh!!  I thought I should ’ave died. 
    Knock’d ’em in the West-min-is-ter Road!

  Some says nasty things about the moke,
    “Won’t got fur afore ’is back is broke!”
  That’s all envy, cos we’re kerridge folk,
    Like the Tory Toffs wot ’ave to go! 
  Straight! it woke the Tories up a bit. 
  Thought BRUM JOE would go and ’ave a fit,
  When my Missus, who ’as Irish wit,
    Sez “I ’ate Brum Brooms[1] becos they’re low!”

CHORUS.

    “Wot cher!” all the neighbours cried. 
      “Who’re yer goin’ to meet, BILL? 
      ’Ave yer bought the street, BILL?”
    Missus, she the Shamrock waved with pride. 
    Knock’d ’em in the West-min-is-ter Road!

  Some sez werry soon the moke’ll stop;
  Not hup to our weight, but bound ter drop. 
  No use whackin’ ’im with pole or prop,
    ’Cos the warmint wasn’t made to go. 
  Well, it ain’t hexact a four-in-’and;
  But me and the Missus hunderstand,
  If we drive together we shall “land,”
    Wich to Tory toffs’ll be a blow.

CHORUS.

    “Wot cher!” all the neighbours cried. 
      Who’re yer goin’ to meet, BILL? 
      ’Ave yer bought the street, BILL?”
    Win?  You bet! with BIDDY by my side. 
    Knock’d in the West-min-is-ter Road!

  Wait till arter August four or five! 
  Me and Missus, we will take a drive. 
  Toffs say, “Wonderful they’re still alive!”
    You shall see that little Donkey go! 
  I’ll soon show ’em wot we mean to do;
  Just wot my old Missus wants me to;
  And in spite of all that rowdy crew,
    ‘Ollerin’ “Woa!  Steady!  Neddy, woa!”

CHORUS.

    “Wot cher!” all the neighbours cried. 
      “Who’re yer goin’ to meet, BILL? 
      ’Ave yer bought the street, BILL?”
    Laugh?  We’ll make ’em laugh on ’tother side,
    And knock ’em in the West-min-is-ter Road!

[Footnote 1:  The Hibernian lady doubtless means “Broughams.”]

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VOLUNTEER VITTICISM.—­Definition of “Marksmen”—­Writers on the Financial News.

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ALONE IN LONDON!