AIR: OLD MOTHER HUBBARD.

Feast-loving MOTLEY
Over a bottle he
Quite overlooks Uncle SAM.
He asks not for chink,
So JOHN BULL, with a wink,
"Alabama" proclaims All a bam.
When he goes to State dinners to fill out his skin,
Amor Patriae leaks out as the turtle goes in. When he hob-nobs with ministers--capital sport--All
our losses at Sea he condoneth in Port. When by Britons soft-soaped, he's delighted to lave
In the lather that's only laid on for a shave. When to Downing street called, with a bow and a scrape
He accepts, in the place of hard dollars, red tape. When a guest at the table of London's Lord Mayor,
He Tables our Claim while addressing the Chair. And whenever he mingles with transmarine nobs
He is always the PRINCE OF AMERICAN SNOBS.