THE FRIEND OF IRELAND AND THE WORDY KNIFE-GRINDER.

Friend of Ireland:—

"Wordy Knife-Grinder! Whither are you going?

Dark is your way—your wheel looks out of order—

Mitchelstown palls, and there seems no more spell in

O'BRIEN's breeches!

"Wordy Knife-Grinder, little think the proud ones,

Who in their speeches prate about their Union-

Ism, what hard work 'tis to keep a Party

Tightly together!

"Tell me, Knife-Grinder, what your little game is.

Do you mean playing straight with me and others?

Or would you jocky Erin like a confounded

Saxon attorney?

"Give us a glimpse of that same Memorandum!

Pledge yourself clear to what needs no explaining!

Prove that your plan is not quite a sham, sly-whittled

Down into nullity!

"Ere I depart (if go I must, TIM HEALY)

Give me a pledge that I'm not sold for nothing.

Tell us in plain round words, without evasion, the

True Hawarden story."

Knife-Grinder.

"Story! God bless yer! I have none to tell, Sir!

Never tell stories, I; 'tis my sole business

This Wheel to turn with treadle and cry, 'Knives and

Scissors to grind O!'

"Constabulary? Question of Land Purchase?

Number of Irish Members due in justice?

Never said aught about 'em; don't intend to—

Not for the present.

"I shall be glad to do what honour urgeth;

Grind on alone, if you will give me carte-blanche,

Make room for JUSTIN, and forbear to meddle

With politics, Sir!"

Friend of Ireland.

"I give thee carte-blanche? I will see thee blowed first—

Fraud! whom no frank appeal can move to frankness—

Sophist, evasive, garrulous, word-web-spinning

Subtle Old Spider!!!"

[Kicks the Knife-Grinder, overturns his Wheel, and exit in a fury of patriotic enthusiasm and forcible language.