With rag and metal polish
The dirt we must demolish;
Still, still, with toil-bowed figure,
Among the grates we grub;
Still, still, with vim and vigour,
'Tis ours to scour and scrub.
CURTAIN.
A TALE OF A COINCIDENCE.
"Coincidences," said the ordinary seaman, "are rum things. Now I can tell you of a rum un that happened to me."