A PLEA FOR OUR TREES.
["The frost has told heavily on the London trees."—Westminster Budget.]
"Frost has told heavily on the London trees."
What matter; whilst the seasons wane and wax?
But what makes London-lovers ill at ease
Is the fierce ruin of the Vandal axe.
"Frosty but kindly" is chill Winter's touch
Upon our trees, as on old Adam's head;
But when the Jerry Builder lays his clutch
On trees, he leaves them but deformed—or dead!
Ruined by jobbing gardeners' ruthless ravages,
Hideous as Doré's cripples, trolls or gnomes.
Will no one save from these tree-slaughtering savages
The bowery charms of our suburban homes?
Happily Named.—"M. Jaures spoke in the Assembly for four consecutive hours."—Telegram from Paris.
