Volume 156 — THE VEGES ON STRIKE.

A noise arose of earnest men Refusing imitation duck; It was a dreadful moment when The Beetroot-eaters struck, And all around untasted stood Rations of Mr. Kilo's favourite food. For some forsook the sacred rules And pulled, despite their master's word, Ham sandwiches from reticules; On every side one heard The sharp staccato lettuce-crunch Merged in the howls of carnivores at lunch. And one conspirator leaped up Amid the clash of tinkling spoons And poured into a protose cup His helping of stewed prunes; And, blood-red presager of doom, Half a tomato hissed across the room. And angry "Pshaws" and long "Tut-tuts" Proceeded from that concourse dense, And "Nuts," they wailed, "we want more nuts— More nuts at less expense!" Till Mr. Ambrose Kilo came And hushed the berserk banqueters to shame. "Heroes," he cried, with lifted hand, "And comrades of the meatless life, Shall the great cause for which we stand" (Here someone dropped a knife) "Fall into disrepute?" (Loud roars Of "No, not it," from contrite nucivores). "Bearing aloft a stainless shield That none may smirch without remorse, This management declines to yield To crude displays of force; Yet, since it seems the general wish, Mock-cutlets will be five-pence less per dish." He ceased, and trembling fingers cleared All vestiges of meat away; The smiling handmaids reappeared With mounds of buttered hay; Silence replaced the storm-tossed scenes; There was no sound save masticated beans. EVOE.