A MODERN ECLOGUE.
Reading edition
Scene—A Crowded Thoroughfare. Enter Strephon and Phyllis on bicycles, at the rate of fifteen miles an hour.
Strephon.
We care not, Phyllis, my own, to-day, For walking in Kensington Park, To flirt in the old conventional way, And saunter home in the dark. Nay, pleasanter far it is to "scorch"— To hear your silvery bell, While the answering squeak of my horn may speak For the fact that I love you well!
Both.
Oh, isn't it sweet to clear the street, While elderly persons frown! "Now, stoopid, look out!" we pleasantly shout, And bang goes a gentleman down!
Phyllis.
Strephon, I love you, I confess, For who could fail to admire The humorous way you spoil a dress And ruin a girl's attire? To see you silently creep along, And then with a burst of speed Spread liberal dirt on the feminine skirt Is a sight for the gods, indeed!
Both.
Oh, isn't it glee to do it, and see The lady-pedestrian flinch, With jubilant rush to scatter the slush And miss her foot by an inch!
Strephon.
I frightened those horses, I'm much afraid,— The excellent coachman's riled!
Phyllis.
And I've demolished a nursery-maid, And certainly hurt a child!
Strephon.
I made that stately dowager jump, She leapt to one side, and puffed!
Phyllis.
That leisurely cur, I'm inclined to infer, To-morrow will go to be stuffed!
Both.
So side by side we merrily ride, And scatter the murmuring throng, Who think the police should compel us to cease, And mournfully ask, "How long?"
Just a little too much.—When a parliamentary candidate or popular Member is received with a torchlight procession, it is almost unnecessary for his constituents to present him, on a dark night, with "an illuminated address."
"VOICI LE SABRE DE MON PÈRE!"
"I intend to protect the principle of autocracy as firmly and unswervingly as did my late and never-to-be-forgotten father."—Czar's Speech, Jan. 29.