We'll cultivate yuccas and yams;
The Curragh shall be our savannah,
Swept clear of all soldiers and shams;
And then to the cry of "Majuba"
We'll shatter the enemy's yoke,
When Ireland is governed like Cuba
And grows her own smoke.
DEAD SEA FRUIT.
To-day the telephone has been installed. The members of our staff are going about their duties in a dazed fashion, and I, to whose single-handed tenacity the achievement is due, find myself unable in these first full moments of triumph to concentrate on my every-day affairs.