Half a mile, half a mile, Half a mile onward, On to the skating rink Came the fair trio. "Skates for the fair trio, Oil them well before they go," Over the smooth rink Slide the fair trio. Forward the fair trio! Was a false step made? No! Not tho' they all knew Some one had tumbled. Theirs but to give a sigh, Theirs but to let him lie, Theirs but to pass him by, Away o'er the rink Glide the fair trio. Admirers to right of them, Admirers to left of them, Admirers in front of them, Wonder'd and wonder'd. "Outside edge," and never fell, Boldly they skate and well, "Treble threes and Q.'s." Any step you choose,-- Over the smooth rink Glide the fair trio. Flash'd all their eyes so bright, Flash'd as they turned in air, Wounding every fellow there, With a glance to left and right, Other girls envying. "Waltzing" and "Mercury stroke," Straight through the line they broke, Whirling and twirling, Light as the fairy folk, Twisting and turning,-- Then they skate back, but not, Not alone the fair trio. Admirers to right of them, Admirers to left of them, Admirers on all sides of them, Wonder'd and wonder'd. Refreshed with coffee and tea, Sweet cake, but no "Cherry B." They whom none excel, They who deserve so well, They who no scandal tell, Away o'er the rink Glide the fair trio. "When can their beauty fade?" Oh! the grand show they made, All the rink wonder'd; Applaud all the skill displayed, Admire the fair trio, Charming fair trio. _The Figaro_, April 10, 1876. * * * * * HOW A HUNDRED GUESTS MET THEIR DEATH. "There seems to be hardly a single ailment not traceable to the poulterer or butcher."--_Daily Paper._ "Half a duck, half a duck, Guests do not shirk ye; Eat, 'tis the Christmas luck, Eat a whole turkey!" Little thought they of pain, Killed they the plate again, Why would ye not refrain? On to death, onward! Death was to right of them, Death was to left of them, Death right in front of them, Death in that conger! Long did they feast, and well, _How_ long I cannot tell, Till they began to yell, "Cannot eat longer!" Ate they the tables bare, Swept they the platter clear, While the host wondered. Wrapped in the pudding's smoke, Right through its midst they broke, Mince pies were sundered! Then sank they back; but not-- Not the same hundred. _Judy_, January 16, 1884. * * * * * A WELCOME TO ALEXANDRA. (_As the Laureate might have adapted it to the opening of the Alexandra Palace_).