“Goose!” I shrieked out, “Leave, oh, leave me! surely you don’t mean to grieve me? You are heavy, pray reprieve me, now my penance must be o’er; Though to-night you’ve brought me sorrow, comfort surely comes to-morrow. Some relief from thee I’d borrow at my doctor’s ample store, There are pills of purest azure in that doctor’s ample store.” Quoth the goblin, “Eat no more!” And that fat Goose, never flitting, like a nightmare still is sitting With me all the night, emitting words that thrill my bosom’s core; Now, throughout the Christmas season, while I lie and gasp and wheeze, on Me he sits, until my reason nothing surely can restore, I am driven mad, and reason nothing surely can restore; While that Goose says, “Eat no more.” _Punch_, January 1, 1881. ――――:o:―――― THE COLLEGE CRAVEN. Once when in the evening walking, with my darling softly talking, Wandering by the shining river, as we’d often done before; While the clear full moon was beaming, on the flowing waters gleaming, And the little waves were streaming, streaming, rippling towards the shore Like small bars of silver dancing, gliding in towards the shore, Noiseless save for splash of oar. Oh, distinctly I remember ’twas in bright and clear September Soon after I had returned to this ancient seat of lore, Vainly I had sought to borrow from my books surcease to sorrow, Fearing, dreading that the _harrow_ would pass over me once more, Little hoped I for Testamur, dreading to be _ploughed_ once more, Ploughed perhaps for evermore. So I pondered deeply thinking, fancy into fancy linking, Balmy air of cool night drinking soothingly through every pore. Whilst I wandered with my dearest, and the moon was at her clearest, Earth to heaven seemed the nearest it had ever been before; Life was sweeter at that moment than it had ever been before, Than it will be evermore. Thus while we were gently strolling, pleasant thoughts our minds enrolling, Suddenly I heard a footstep that I had not heard before, And I felt my blood run colder, and in fact was no way bolder, As I felt upon my shoulder the “bulldog’s” hand I so abhor, Then he said with gleeful malice those old words I so abhor “The proctor wants you,” nothing more. “Bulldog,” cried I, “thing of evil, how I wish you at the devil,” But the “bulldog,” most ferocious, never let me from his paw, But before the proctor hurried, who my wits completely flurried, Since they were already worried, “Your name and college I implore, And your presence in the morning I must earnestly implore,” Quoth the proctor, nothing more.