THE LAY OF THE EXPLORER.
I USED to think that if a man
In any character could score a
Distinctly leonine success,
'Twould be as a returned explorer.
So, when by sixteen tigers tree'd,
Or when mad elephants were charging,
I joyed to say—"On this, some day,
My countrymen will be enlarging."
And when mosquitoes buzzed and bit
(For 'tis their pleasing nature to),
Or fevers floored me, still this dream
Helped me to suffer and to do.
I have returned! Whole dusky tribes
I've wiped right out—such labour sweet is!—
And with innumerable chiefs
Arranged unconscionable treaties.
What's the result? I have become
A butt for each humanitarian,
Who call my exploits in the chase
The work of a "confessed barbarian."
And, worst of all, my rival, Jones,
Who'd any trick that's low and mean dare,
Cries—"Equatorial jungles! Pish!
I don't believe he's ever been there!"
So now I just "explore" Herne Bay,
With trippers, niggers, nurses, babies:
I've tried for fame. I 've gained it, too:
I share it with the vanished Jabez!
Note and Query.—At Aldershot the Queen expressed herself much pleased with the "tattoo" all round. "Ignoramus" writes to inquire "if 'tattoo-ing' is done in Indian ink or with gunpowder?"