Some girls repine, and some rejoice, I'll never dream that I've repented. And, oh, how sweetly Alfred sings it! I'll own I'm bored with handicaps! Bluerocks! (they always are "bluerock"-ing!)-With May, a little bit, perhaps, And yon Faust's teufelshund is shocking! He's missed all ten! He's too absurd!- Of Hurlingham, and tea,—and Willy. FREDERICK LOCKER. CROQUET. (To the tune of the "Great Sensation.") (Symphony.) OST croquet is cheating, M Some belles and beaux Who fancy it's most jolly. (Solo, Soprano.) "Come into the garden-mud." (Tutti.) Then come into the garden-mud; A heavyish dew, But we've got on goloshes. (Chorus.) Pooh-pooh, bother the dew! Balmoral and castor; The more you try to stick in the dry It only rains the faster. 66 Now, Mr. Blue, We're waiting for you, And mind, don't miss your hoop, sir; Plays next, I think, “Ah, there you go! I told you so; You'll make your side repent all; Bats, balls, ready for squalls, The more you try to go ahead, "So Mellon's dead" "Yes, so it's said" “Of course you're charmed with Lucca ? I rather think —" "Oh, hang that Pink! Was ever such a fluker." "Miss Black, your hoop 66 id's bow, (or vice versâ) " "Well spooned, Miss Red, (As 'twould be if 'twere worser!)" (Chorus.) Fie, fie, spoon on the sly, 66 So, as I said Miss Dash was much admired, And she was vext" "Do I go next? I'm actually wired Thro' I declare!" "No spooning there!" ""Twas nothing but a push, sir". "It's you to play" "Where am I, eh?"— Stuck in the holly-bush, sir! (Chorus.) Push, poke, spoon, fluke, The more one tries to save oneself, That sound each bosom crazes, They scatter here, And shatter there, And knock their friends to blazes. (Chorus.) Flounce, pounce, nothing but bounce, The more you try to finish it off, Miss Green, the stout, In Taglioni fashion (So spirituelle !), And flies off in a passion. (Great Glee.) "Lightly trip it, fairy Green." Excited Black Gives Red a crack That bors de combat puts her; Her bat brings down Upon her pretty foot, sir. (Disconcerted piece.) "As Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, He lets it fall, and drops it on his toe." Now Red, I say She's run away, Such conduct most morose is; And nought's been seen There's Brown eloped, Won't be called back, Tho' Echo burst his bellows. (Duette.) "Can storied urn or animated bust?" So Pink and Blue, It's you "to do," Since that's the way to put it ; And if not quick You reach your stick, Take my advice and-cut it! (Chorus-as a Solo.) Curt, pert, girls that flirt, H. CHOLMONDELEY PENNELL. L |