A new Tamerlane, my JOHNNY, who could stir the Tartar hordes
  To—­say “Asiatic Concert,”—­well, you know that thought affords
  To your talky “Only General” a quite sensational theme. 
  But prophecy’s not “business,” JOHN, and CAESAR should not dream.

  Oh! the world is full of Bogies. I’m the biggest of them all
  In the minds of many croakers who ne’er saw the Chinese Wall,
  But are frightened at the spreading of my kindred—­on the map;
  For I’m semi-Asiatic, and half Tartar, dear old chap.

  Now put this and that together, think of Pamir, Turkestan,
  Of Persia, of the Dardanelles!—­I think you’ll see, old man,
  That though this ramping Dragon you may wish to tie and tame,
  A Benevolent Neutrality is rather more my game.

* * * * *

A PLAYGOER’S “LAST WORD.”

(AN ECHO FROM THE PIT.)

  The Season is—­has been for some time—­silly,
    And lengthy correspondences are rife. 
  We have, alas! to read them willy-nilly;
    They take a deal of pleasure out of life. 
  To flee such evils here’s an easy way—­
    Let morning dailies idly rant or vapour,
  At the Lyceum go and see the play,
    The programme there’s the finest DALY paper.[2]

[Footnote 2:  A Correspondent, signing himself “A Knight of the Free Lists,” suggests that free admissions to the Lyceum should be known, during the American Company’s season, as “The Best Daly ‘Paper.’”]

* * * * *

MOTTO FOR A DEPRESSED TEETOTALLER.—­“Whine and Water.”

* * * * *

[Illustration:  FAMILY TIES.

JOHN BULL.  “AIN’T YOU GOING TO LEND A HAND?”

RUSSIA.  “WELL, I DON’T KNOW;—­YOU SEE HE’S A SORT OF RELATION OF
MINE!!”]

* * * * *

TIPPLING SALLY.

A SONG OF SORROW ON ZOO SUNDAY.

    [SALLY, the Chimpanzee (late of the Zoo), is stated to have
    “drunk beer daily.”]

  Of all the monkeys at the Zoo
    There’s none like Tippling SALLY. 
  She was the first who quenched her thirst
    Quite al-co-hol-i-cally. 
  A draught of beer made her not queer,
    But seemed her strength to rally. 
  MORTIMER GRANVILLE well might cheer
    Three cheers for Tippling SALLY.

  Of all the days within the week
    I chiefly favoured one day,
  That was the day when children seek
    The rapture called “Zoo Sunday.” 
  For then full drest all in my best
    I’d go and visit SALLY,
  And see her soothe her hairy breast
    So al-co-hol-i-cally!

  But now no more poor SALLY’s tricks
    With glee fill girl or boy full;
  No mug of beer her soul can cheer,
    Nor glass of O-be-joyful! 
  We yet may see some Chimpanzee
    With Drink’s temptations dally,
  To WILFRID’s woe; but no, ah! no! 
    It won’t be Tippling SALLY!