* * * * *

The American Ganymede.

[Illustration]

    [The extraordinary triumph of Mr. Grover Cleveland, Democratic
    Candidate for the American Presidency, is attributed to a
    general revolt against the McKinley Bill.]

  O plump and pant-striped boy, upborne,
    Like Ganymede of old,
  Punch hails you, with your slack, untorn,
    Fast in the Eagle’s hold. 
  It is, indeed, a startling sight
    That speculation tarries on;
  And it must give an awful fright
    To Hebe (alias Harrison!)

  Up, up to the Olympus, where
    The White House spreads its board,
  Whirled high through the electoral air,
    A boy less long than broad! 
  He looks not like the Tammany breed,
    That with high tariffs dally;
  He proves, this Yankee Ganymede,
    The Democratic rally.

  This eagle’s a colossal fowl,
    Like Sindbad’s monstrous Roc,
  A bird of prey some say, a-prowl
    Like that Stymphalian flock,
  With iron claws and brazen beak,
    Intent to clutch and collar,
  Fired with devotion strong, yet weak,
    To the Almighty Dollar.

  Pooh!  Plunder’s not his only joy. 
    He hovered till he saw
  “A something-pottle-bodied boy,”
    Who spurned MCKINLEY’S Law. 
  He stooped and clutched him, fair and good,
    Flew nigh o’er roof and casement,
  Whilst the Republicans all stood
    Agape in sheer amazement.

  He soars with proudly swelling crest
    And followed with acclaims,
  A cause of wonder in the West,
    And crowing by the Thames. 
  For England, glorying in the sight,
    Greets Boy and Bird together;
  Whilst watching with serene delight
    That big, black, falling feather!

* * * * *

Robert on Lord mare’s day.

The most ewentfoollest day of the hole year broke, as the poets says, without almost not no fog, on Wensday larst, to my grate serprise and joy; but noing, from long xperiens, how unsertain is whether at this orful seasun of the year, I took jest one leetel glass of hold brandy before setting out on my arjus dootys.  I was encurraged to do so also by the horful rumers as was spread about, weeks afore, as to threttend atacks on the sacred Show by some disapinted prottestens, I think they called theirselves, as hadn’t bin inwited to the Bankwet, and so meant to prottest accordingly.

But I needn’t a bin alarmd, for the most respekful mob as filled the streets was as quiet as mice, havin heard, I’m told, as how as the Copperashun had had the lectric light turned on at Gildhall, by which means, of course, they coud comunicate with any-wheres, and so know where to send an hole army of Waiters to, well fortyfide, and armed to the teeth with a splendid Lunch, to help the pore Perlice in their arjus dootys.