THE LIGHTS O' LONDON.
"The first practical constructive step towards lighting the City of London by means of electricity, was taken yesterday (Feb. 3), when the LORD MAYOR placed in position the first stone of the main junction-box for the electric conductors, at the top of Walbrook, close under the shadow of the western walls of the Mansion House."—Times.
Bill Sikes. "WELL, I HAM BLOWED! IF THEY'RE GOIN' TO 'AVE THIS BEASTLY 'LECTRIC LIGHT ALL OVER THE PLACE—WOT'S TO BECOME OF HUS?"
Mr. William Sikes, Junior, loquitur:—
Well, I ham blowed! I say, look 'ere, you NANCY!
Old Gog and Magog is woke up at last!
Goin' to hilluminate the City. Fancy!!
When this yer 'Lectric light is fairly cast
On every nook and corner, hole and entry
Of London, you and me is done, to-rights.
A Slop at every street-end standin' sentry,
Won't spile our game like lots o' 'Lectric Lights.
The Lights o' London? Yah! That's bin all boko.
Were London lighted, how could you and me
Garotte a swell, or give a tight 'un toko?
We ain't got arf a chance where coves can see.
'Tis darkness plays our game, and we've 'ad plenty,
But this means mischief, or my name ain't BILL.
Wy, not one pooty little plant in twenty
Could we pull orf if light spiled pluck and skill.
It's beastly, NAN, that's wot it is. Wy, blimy,
Narrer ill-lighted streets is our best friends.
Yer dingy nooks and slums, sombre and slimy,
Is gifts wot Prowidence most kyindly sends
To give hus chaps a chance of perks and pickins;
But if the Town's chock-full of "arc" and "glow,"
With you and me, NAN, it will play the dickens.
We must turn 'onest, NAN, and that's no go!
'Ang Science! Ile lamps and old Charlies—bless 'em!—
Wos good for trade, our trade. Ah! if my dad
Could see 'ow Larnin', Law, and Light oppress 'em,
Our good old cracksmen-gangs, he'd go stark mad.
As for the Hartful Dodger and old Fagin,
Ah! they're well hout of it. Wot could they do
With Science and her bloomin' fireworks plaguin'
Their hartfullest little games the whole Town through?
Our only 'ope, my NAN, is in the Noodles,
There's still some left in London I'll be bound.
To lurk a crib, prig wipes, sneak ladies' poodles,
Gits 'arder every day; we're watched all round.
Many a programme wot looks vastly pooty,
Mucked by the mugs, leads on to wus and wus.
But if they do light up the dim, cramped, sooty.
Gog-ruled old Town—wot's to become of hus?
MOST APPROPRIATE.—The Bishop of DURHAM has appointed Mr. T. DIBDIN Chancellor of the Diocese of Durham. He already holds the Chancellorships of Exeter and Rochester. Three Chancellorships, all on the high sees too! "THOMAS DIBDIN" is the right man in the right place.
PROVERB "UP TO DATE."—"Cumming events cast their shadows before." And let's hope the shadows will be speedily dispelled.