Wake not, War-Goddess! When you stir, The Raven-wings, once more a-whirr, May see our earth—a sepulchre!
UNREST!
SYMPATHY.
Scene—In front of Mrs. R.'s house.
Mrs. R. (paying Cabman). You look all right to-day. Cabman. Ah, mum! my looks don't pity me. I suffer from a tarpaulin liver. Mrs. R. (correcting). A torpedo liver you mean.
[Cabman accepts the correction, and an extra shilling.