"NANA WOULD NOT GIVE ME A BOW-WOW!"

A Pretty Little Song for Pettish Little Emperors.
(Latest Teutonic Version of Mr. Joseph Tabrar's Popular Song.)

[The German Emperor is reported to have said, "It was impossible for me to anticipate the rejection of the Army Bills, so fully did I rely upon the patriotism of the Imperial Diet to accept them unreservedly. A patriotic minority has been unable to prevail against the majority.... I was compelled to resort to a dissolution, and I look forward to the acceptance of the Bills by the new Reichstag. Should this expectation be again disappointed, I am determined to use every means in my power to achieve my purpose."—The Times.]

Wilful Wilhelm sings:—

You ask me why I do not smile; the reason you shall know;

I had a disappointment huge a day or two ago;

I asked my venerable Nurse to give me no more toys,

But just a little Dog of War to bite the other boys.

Spoken. But oh!

Audience (of Generals and Staff Officers). What?

Nana wouldn't give me that bow-wow

Wow-wow!

The Reichstag wouldn't grant me that bow-wow!

Wow-wow!

No; she denied me—flat.

Now, what do you think of that?

And I'd set my mind on that bow-wow-wow!

Wow-wow-wow!

Some years ago she did the same, the greedy bad old girl!

But I've set my mind upon that dog, sharp teeth and coat a-curl.

The other boys have got such tykes, and I should be a mug,

If when they run to mastiffs I'm put off with a small pug.

Audience. Well?

Spoken. Well,

I mean to make her give me that bow-wow!

Wow-wow!

I'll worry her until she buys that bow-wow!

Wow-wow!

I'll dissolve the Imperial Diet,

And I never will be quiet

Until I get that bow-wow-wow!

Wow-wow-wow!

I always meant when I grew old to do just as I pleased,

I'd have a dozen bow-wows then, and if the old Trot teased

I'd shut her up, and everyone who backed her, like a shot;

For no one who opposes Me can be a pat-ri-ot!

Audience. Why?

Spoken. Because

France has got ahead with her bow-wow!

Wow-wow!

Russia makes me jealous with her bow-wow!

Wow-wow!

And now it is my turn

To leave them well astern,

And I can't without that bow-wow-wow!

Wow-wow-wow!

I didn't shake old Bizzy off to take Caprivi up,

To let my old Nurse thwart me in my longing for this pup.

'Tis true that I have other tykes, a pack of 'em indeed—

But what of that? I want one more, of this particular breed.

Audience. Well?

Spoken. Well,

I will, whatever happens, have this bow-wow!

Wow-wow!

I'll have it very soon, if not just now-now!

Wow-wow!

My purpose I'll achieve,

And the Reichstag never leave

Until I get possession of that bow-wow-wow!

Wow-wow-wow!


A Question of Title.—A recent speech by Mr. Lockwood, Q.C., M.P., on the Art of Cross-Examination has been called "deliciously frank." Henceforth, the genial Recorder of York is to be known as Mr. Deliciously Frank Lockwood.