THOSE SILENT BOOTS.
Burglar's Ballad. Air—"Those Evening Bells."
Those Silent Boots! Those Silent Boots!
When out upon our gay galoots,
'Twill give us coves the bloomin' jumps,
If we carn't 'ear the Copper's clumps!
'Ave Bobby's Bluchers passed away?
That there will bust the Burglar's lay!
Wot, silent "Slops"—like evening swells?
It's wus than them electric bells!
No, no! I 'opes, till I am gone,
The Bobby's Boots will still clump on.
Their warnin' sound our bizness soots,
But bust the thought o' Silent Boots!
Some Evill-minded Persons.—At the Royal Academy of Music the competition for the Evill Prize took place last Friday, which, to unsuccessful competitors was a day of Evill omen. This is one of the rare instances where "Out of Evill cometh good."