THE WAIL OF THE WALWORTH WOTER.
["Many of our men have certainly been got at."—Walworth Liberal Agent.]
"Got at," my boy? Well, that's a fack;
Yet not by Lansbury, Reade, or Bailey.
But by the burdens on our back,
As seem a-gettin' heavier daily.
Trade's bloomin' bad, and rents is high;
Yet more and more the Guv'ment axes.
Progress, old man, is all my heye,—
As means raised rents, and rates, and taxes.
School Boards, Free Liberies, an' such,
With County Council schemes, look proper;
When they too 'ard poor pockets touch
On them the poor must put a stopper.
Fust we 'ave got to live, I say;
To pay our way, and grub our young 'uns.
Will Rads make that more easier, hay,
Than wot you call "Bible and Bung'uns"?
By Jingo, if you want our wotes,
You'll git 'em, not by playing peeper,
Or wetoing beer from our poor throats;
But—making life easier and cheaper!
Got at? Wy, yus, by want o' grub,
And rents an' taxes too extensive;
And so we'll weto—not the Pub,
But "Progress" wot comes too expensive!
Parties in the House of Commons.—Besides the usual number of parties, there will always be, during the fine summer weather, Tea-parties.
Contradiction.—Tremendous "Crushing Reports" come in from the mines, and, in spite of this, mining shares are better than ever.
