Sir E.L. (gaily). "BARONETTED? OF COURSE, MY BOY—RIGHT THING TO DO! THANKS. TA-TA!" [Careers away, to keep up his circulation.
Mr. P. "AND YOU, MR. LABBY?"
H.L. (languidly). "OH—AH—AS FOR ME—I'M OUT OF IT—THAT'S THE TRUTH."
WOT CHER, LABBY?
["Mr. LABOUCHERE, so he says, has come to London to enjoy the smiles of the new Ministry."—Morning Paper.]
Enjoy them, dear LABBY, smile back, if you can—
Though your lip has a curl that portends something sinister—
It is painful, I take it, to flash in the pan,
While a rival goes off with a bang as a Minister.