I've always been courageous, in a modest sort of way, And sought an opportunity my valour to display, There's nothing I'd like better than to lead a conquering host, If Stevenson or Conan Doyle would offer me a post.
But, in real life, such chances are extremely hard to find. They disregard the model, too, you've carefully designed, For if a foe—a burglar, say—you venture to attack, The disagreeable scoundrel's rather apt to hit you back.
But here's a way—it's safer far, as you will soon confess,— To have your courage recognised and praised in an Address; It's a sort of learned skittles, and the method of it's plain— You gravely set a dummy up, and knock it down again.
Just get a friend to postulate that Tennyson's a sham, That Martin Tupper wrote the whole of In Memoriam, Or else, that Robert Browning's greatest work was Nancy Lee, And then—you prove your friend is wrong—and there you are, you see.
They'll give you testimonials, many speakers will allude In tones of deep emotion to "a nation's gratitude"; So if you sigh for glory, I can recommend the game, For literary ninepins is a speedy path to fame!
NEW HONOURS.
Last week Solicitor-General Frank Lockwood, Q.C., M.P., was knighted. So was the High Sheriff of Surrey, Mr. Fred Wigan. Quite appropriate that Queen's Counsel Lockwood should appear with Wig-an'—the gown too, of course. After this J. Weeks Szlumper was made a knight, and has now another "s" added to his name. All hail, Sir Szlumper, or "Zir Zlumper!" As the ex-mayor of Richmond quitted (backwards) the Royal Presence, did a concealed choir sing a verse of the ancient ballad commencing "Slumber my darling," and for this occasion altered to "Szlumper my darling!"