BACK TO TOWN
Back to town, and it certes is rapture to stand,
And to hear once again all the roar of the Strand;
I agree with the bard who said, noisy or stilly,
By gaslight or daylight, he loved Piccadilly;
The wanderer's heart with emotion doth swell,
When he sees the broad pavement of pleasant Pall Mall.
Some folks like the City; wherever they range,
Their hearts are still true to the Royal Exchange;
They've beheld alpine summits rise rank upon rank,
But the Matterhorn's nothing compared with the Bank;
And they feel quite rejoiced in the omnibus ride,
As that hearse for the living rolls up through Cheapside.
The mind of a man is expanded by travel,
But give me my house on the Kensington gravel:
The wine of the Frenchman is good, and his grub,
But he isn't devoted to soap and the tub;
Though it may be my prejudice, yet I'll be shot,
If I don't think one Englishman's worth all the lot!
With Germans I've no disposition to quarrel,
Though most of their women resemble a barrel;
And, as for myself, I could never make out
The charms of their schnitzel and raw sauer-kraut;
While everyone owns, since the last mighty war,
Your average Teuton's too bumptious by far.
I think it's been stated before, that you roam
To prove to yourself that there's no place like home,
Though lands that are lovely lie eastward and west,
Our "tight little island," believe me, 's the best;
Through Paris, Berlin, and Vienna you've passed,
To find that there's nothing like London at last!
New Assistant (after hair-cutting, to Jones, who has been away for a couple of weeks). "Your 'air is very thin be'ind, sir. Try singeing!"
Jones (after a pause). "Yes, I think I will."
N. A. (after singeing). "Shampoo, sir? Good for the 'air, sir."
Jones. "Thank you. Yes."
N. A. "Your moustaches curled?"
Jones. "Please."
N. A. "May I give you a friction?"
Jones. "Thank you."
N. A. "Will you try some of our——"
Manager (who has just sighted his man, in stage whisper). "You idiot! He's a subscriber!!"
Mrs. R. was in an omnibus lately. The streets were so badly paved, she says, that the osculations were most trying to elderly people, though the younger ladies did not seem to object to them.
Signs of a Severe Winter in London
Early departure of swallows from Swallow Street.
Poet's Corner covered with rime.
Wild ducks on the Stock Exchange.
Coals raised.
Cynic's Motto for Kelly's Directory (by the kind permission of the Author of "Dead Men whom I have known.")—Living men whom I don't want to know.
Money Market—Shares, in Ascension Island Company, going up.
City Intelligence.—Should the proposed asylum for decayed bill brokers, jobbers, and others on 'Change be ultimately built, it will probably be at Stock-holm.
