So runs the childish doggrel; but Punch heard in that shambling verse a musical promise; and hearing, foretold the coming time when, from the very blight that smote the people of Ireland through Ireland's potatos, there should be peace and plenty for Ireland regenerate. And is it not so? Answer with one of your wildest roars, oh, Lion of Judah! Is it not so—reply and tenderly, cooingly, oh Dove of Galway!
DISRAELI'S COAT AND BADGE.
Was a smarter old feller than I be e'er seen
In these bright brass buttons—this new quoat of green?
Why is it I'm rigged out so fine as this here?
Why for sarvin' one master for full thirty year.
But wherefore should I be so proud o' my clothes,
And strut in 'em so, stickin' up my old nose?
Do I think the prize-suit such an honour to wear?