Leafe no ding here as a doken of dot lie vich you hafe spoken;
You go home, I vas not joking, for I told you once pefore,
Chust dake dot smell frum out mine house, und jump down off mine door!”
But it vinked, and said no more.
A penny pamphlet, in a blood red cover, has been recently published in Poppin’s Court, Fleet Street, entitled “The Whitechapel Murders, A vision of the Murderer as seen from Dreamland, by Marcus.”
It is written in imitation of Poe’s Raven, to call attention to the wretched inefficiency of our present system of police, and the supineness of the Home Office in everything relating to the unfashionable quarters of London.
But as both Sir Charles Warren and Mr. Matthews are already sufficiently unpopular, it is needless to quote this parody, dealing, as it does, with topics of a most unpleasant description.
——:o:——
The following parody refers to the Fisheries dispute between Canada and the United States, which, but for Mr. Chamberlain’s unfortunate want of tact and temper during his mission, might have been amicably settled:—