A FABLE FOR FANATICS.
There was a stream, now fast, now slow,
But given at times to overflow;
A freakishness that played strange pranks
With the poor dwellers on its banks.
There came two engineers. One said,
"Embank it!" Wagging a wise head
In the austere impressive way
Of dogmatists, as who should say,
"If there's an Oracle, I am it."
The other answered, "Nonsense! Dam it!"
They did, and stood with hope elate,
But presently there came a "spate;"
The swollen torrent, swift and muddied,
All the surrounding country flooded,
Put a prompt stop to prosperous tillage,
Drowned fifty folk, and swamped a village.
Moral.
Some men's sole notion of improvement
Is simply to arrest all movement.
This craving crass the spirit stirs
Of Tsars and of Teetotallers,
Eight-Hour fanatics, and the like,
Friends of the dungeon and the dyke.
"Dam it!" That is their counsel's staple.
(Mark, Lubbock; also, Blundell-Maple!)
News from Aix-les-Bains.—"Fireworks were let off." As mercy is the Royal prerogative, we are glad to learn that it was exercised in the case of Fireworks on the birthday of the Princess Beatrice.
By Order of F.M. Commanding-in-Chief, Punch.—The Grand Military Exhibition, Chelsea Hospital, to be known as "The Sodgeries."