He wishes you would up and go to—well not to Hong-Kong,
But the natural home of all such "Foreign Devils," in his view.
Why, he's none too sweet on Me, JOHN; is it likely he'd like you?
Grattez le Russe—et cetera. You are mighty fond, J.B.,
Of quoting that stale epigram. You fancy it riles me.
Not a bit of it, my Briton; Tartars have a thickish skin,
And your foe and I are neighbours, nay a distant sort of kin.
The Mantchus and the Romanoffs are not exactly chums,
And a Tartar insurrection, when that little trouble comes,
As it may do if you press too much at Pekin, well, who knows?