Volume 146 — IN THE GARDEN OF ALLAH.

Weary of the struggle and the squalors Which beset the politician's life— Work that for a modicum of dollars Brings a whole infinity of strife— Three of England's most illustrious cronies Started on a winter holiday, With no thought of MURRAY or Marconis— GEORGE and HENRY and the great TAY PAY. Never since ÆNEAS and his raiders Stayed with DIDO in the days of yore Did such irresistible invaders Land upon the Carthaginian shore. GEORGE, of course, the largest crowds attended, But I'm told the kind Algerians say That ÆNEAS wasn't half so splendid Or so pious as the good TAY PAY. Noble sheikhs and black and bearded Bashas Bowed, whene'er they met them, to the ground; Festas and fantasias and tamashas Followed in a never-ending round. GEORGE no more on his detractors brooded; HENRY simply sang the livelong day; While unmixed benevolence exuded From the loving heart of kind TAY PAY. Side by side they read the works of HICHENS; Hand in hand they sampled the bazaars; Ate the sweetmeats cooked in native kitchens; Flew about in sumptuous motor-cars; Golfed where once great HANNIBAL was scheming; Joked where luckless DIDO once held sway; For the finest jokes were always streaming From the lips of comical TAY PAY. Other days they spent in caracoling, Mounted each upon a mettled barb, Or along the streets serenely strolling Clad in semi-oriental garb; HENRY with a cummerbund suburban; GEORGE disguised to look like ENVER BEY; While a kilt surmounted by a turban Veiled the massive contours of TAY PAY. Daily they partook of ripe and juicy Fruit, and Mocha coffee and kibobs; Daily they conversed with EL SENOUSSI And a lot of other native nobs; HENRY practised Algerine fandangos; GEORGE upon the tom-tom learned to play; And a dervish taught ten Arab tangos To the light fantastical TAY PAY. Whither will they wander next, I wonder? Not, I hope and pray, within the reach Of the tribes who live on loot and plunder, Fanatics who practise what they preach. Fancy if these horrible disturbers, Swooping on our countrymen astray, Touaregs and Bedouins and Berbers, Carried off the succulent TAY PAY! Hardly had this agonizing presage Taken shape within my tortured brain, When good REUTER flashed the welcome message, "Chancellor Returns," across the main. Neptune, be thy waters calm, not choppy, As they speed them on their homeward way, GEORGE and HENRY and, bowed down with "copy," Our unique arch-eulogist, TAY PAY.