JOHN BULL’S NEW YEAR.

JOHN BULL looked haggard and drear With fear, As the bells rang out the old year, “Oh, dear!” He moaned, “but my lot has been sorry and sore, I ne’er had twelve months of such trouble before, My neighbors all round seem to thirst for my gore,— It’s queer. “With Hans I would like to agree, For he Is an inch or two taller than me, You see; But he’s gone to the Cape with a rush and a shout, And I had to vanish or he’d kick me out, And he says ever since he will ‘pull mine snout Mit glee.’ “Then Mossoo, who lives o’er the way Is gay At my numerous signs of decay Each day; He snaps his fingers right under my nose, Laughs at my protests and treads on my toes, And has not a pitying word for my woes To say. “I once could warn Ivan the bear— Take care How the lion you stir in his lair, Beware! But now he has laid his big claws on Herat, And all I can do is to squeal like a cat, And I fear that some day I’ll be squelched like a rat Out there. “But my worst and my ugliest fright, A sight That keeps me in shivering plight All night, Is the vengeance I earned from poor Pat long ago, He’s my nearest neighbor but bitterest foe, And ’tis only just now I’m beginning to know His might! “So for me there’s no Happy New Year, Oh, dear! But doubt, and misgiving, and fear Are here. My neighbors discover I’m toothless and blind, They cuff me before and they kick me behind, And in all the world not a friend can I find To cheer!”