Time was when I waited, waited,
For the missives that she wrote.
Humble postmen execrated
Loudly, deeply execrated-

When I heard I was n't fated

To be gladdened with a note.

Time was when I'd not have bartered
Of her little pen a dip
For a peerage duly gartered-
For a peerage starred and gartered
With a palace-office chartered
Or a Secretaryship!

But the time for that is over,
And I wish we'd never met.
I'm afraid I've proved a rover
I'm afraid a heartless rover
Quarters in a place like Dover
Tend to make a man forget.

Now I can accord precedence
To my tailor, for I do
Want to know if he gives credence -
An unwarrantable credence -
To my proffered I O U!

Bills for carriages and horses,

Bills for wine and light cigar, Matters that concern the Forces News that may affect the Forces News affecting my resources,

Now unquestioned take the pas.

And the tiny little paper,

With the words that seem to run From her little fingers taper (They are very small and taper), By the tailor and the draper Are in interest outdone!

And unopened it's remaining!
I can read her gentle hope
Her entreaties, uncomplaining
(She was always uncomplaining) -
Her devotion never waning
Through the little envelope!

AT A PANTOMIME
By a Bilious One

A

N Actor sits in doubtful gloom,
His stock-in-trade unfurled,

In a damp funereal dressing-room
In the Theatre Royal, World.

He comes to town at Christmas time,
And braves its icy breath,

To play in

that favorite

pantomime,

Harlequin Life
and Death.

A hoary flowing

wig his

weird

Unearthly

cranium caps,

He hangs a long benevolent beard

On a pair of empty chaps.

To smooth his ghastly features down

The actor's art he cribs,

A long and a flowing padded gown
Bedecks his rattling ribs.

He cries, "Go on- begin, begin,
Turn on the light of lime

I'm dressed for jolly Old Christmas, in
A favorite pantomime!"

The curtain 's

up the stage all black —

Time and the year nigh sped Time as an advertising quack The Old Year nearly dead.

The wand of Time is waved and lo,
Revealed Old Christmas stands,
And little children chuckle and crow,
And laugh and clap their hands.

The little ones hail the festive King,
No thought can make them sad,
Their laughter comes with a sounding ring,
They clap and crow like mad!

They only see in the humbug old

A holiday every year,

And handsome gifts and joys untold
And unaccustomed cheer.

The old ones palsied, blear, and hoar,
Their breasts in anguish beat
They've seen him seventy times before,
How well they know the cheat !

They 've seen that ghastly pantomime,
They 've felt its blighting breath,
They know that rollicking Christmas time
Meant Cold and Want and Death.

Starvation

Poor Law Union fare

And deadly cramps and chills, And illness illness everywhere,

And crime and Christmas bills.

They know old Christmas well, I ween,
Those men of ripened age,
They 've often, often, often seen
That Actor off the stage.

They see in his gay rotundity
A clumsy stuffed-out dress;

They see in the cup he waves on high
A tinselled emptiness.

Those aged men so lean and wan,
They've seen it all before;

They know they 'll see the charlatan
But twice or three times more.