"MI LOR MAIRE."
A Brussels Sprout.
The new Belgian Lord Mayor of London, Monsieur Polydore de Keyser, is, it is said, a proficient in several languages. "English as she is spoke," being one of them. Let us rename him "Polyglot de Keyser." Every dog must have his day, and so must a Lord Mayor, and a precious bad one Poor Polyglot had for making a show of himself on the Ninth. It is rather hard on any Lord Mayor, Mi Lor Maire le Brave Belge not excepted, that the ninth should follow so close upon the heels of the fifth of November. But if a British Lord Mayor must take his chance of the weather, even so must the Brave Belgian
Who in spite of all temptation
To belong to his own nation,
Did become an Englishman!
Yes! an English Alderman!
Even as our latest Lord Mayor, he cannot expect to be exempt from the penalties which a British climate enforces from all citizens of London. During the twelve months reign of Polyglot it is probable that the tune of The Roast Beef of Old England will not be heard at Civic festivities, but instead, a new Waltz will be performed entitled Brussels Sprouts, which, as a matter of course,—third or fourth course,—will be a favourite dish at the Munching House.
Very Polite.—A certain Civic dignitary who enjoyed the Guildhall Feast on the Ninth, felt uncommonly unwell the next day. Out of compliment to the New Lord Mayor's nationality, the worthy citizen, in answer to kind inquiries, sent to say that he was only suffering from Mal de Maire.
In Good Hands.—"Electric lighting," it is said, "is still in its infancy"—for which fact we could not have better authority than its Nursey,—we mean the Past-President of the Society of Engineers.
NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception.
Transcriber's Notes:
Alternative spellings retained, puncuation normalized.