DANUBIAN HOMICIDE.
Hosts on the Danube's banks are felled
To please one man's ambitious whim;
And yet there is no inquest held,
No Hue-and-Cry raised after him.
His likeness, true, the shops expose;
His hair, his eyes, are in the News,
And every Constant Reader knows
How high he stands without his shoes.
But how he sleeps, of what partakes,