"NICE FOR THE VISITORS."
(Sketch outside a Fashionable Hotel.)]
THE LAST OF MOWGLI.
["The Man-pack do not love jungle-tales."—Rudyard Kipling in the P. M. G. of Sept. 26.]
SACRED
To the Memory
of
MOWGLI,
Alias Little Frog, Manling, Nathoo, and
Master of the Jungle,
Who,
After lingering on in columns of print,
Came to a Doubtful End
In a series of Asterisks in an Evening Paper,
And in the Paws of Baloo.
He was
Of Uncertain Parentage,
Of Unprincipled Character,
Of Carnivorous and generally Unpleasant
Habits,
And,
Though he had one or two Good Points,
On the whole may be described
As
A thorough-paced Young Rascal.
He had
(In common with the rest of the Jungle-People)
A curious and somewhat incomprehensible
style of expressing HIMSELF
In Metaphors and Master-words,
Which
After a bit
Rather got on one's Nerves, unless, of course,
You like that sort of thing.
He was, however,
Considered by some to be Good Copy,
And, as such,
His Temporary Extinction
Is mourned by his Sorrowing Editors and
Publishers.
He will probably reappear
At a later date
In three-and-sixpenny book-form,
Where we wish HIM
All possible success and a few elucidatory
FOOTNOTES.
And now,
In the words of the Panther Bagheera,
Is the Time of New Talk.