―――――――― HARRY’S COMPLAINT. Who would not help me when I fell, But bade me, roughly, “Stop that yell!” Or, straightway, he “would go and tell?” My Brother! Who took my marbles all away―― Because, “you don’t know how to play”―― And wouldn’t heed my plaintive “Nay?” My Brother! Who wouldn’t let me use his ball, Nor cricket ever learn at all, Because I was “so very small?” My Brother! Who laughed because my hair was red, And filled it full of crumbs of bread, Then, jeering, cried, “The baby’s fed?” My Brother! Who always was so nice and meek, And _never_(!) could a harsh word speak (And yet he was the biggest sneak)? My Brother! Whom all the ladies thought “_so_ good” And only wished _their_ brothers would Follow his footsteps, _if they should_! My Brother! ――――:o:―――― A “SISTER’S” COMPLAINT. Who, subsequently, older grown, Becomes a bore, as will be shown, Prating of “time,” and “tune,” and “tone!” My Brother! Who plays the fiddle in a key Midway between keys “A” and “B,” And scorns all mild advice from me? My Brother! Who holds it as a solemn charge To wear the “Masher” collar large, Nor knows the draper’s overcharge? My Brother! Who walks with stately port upright? Who wears his “pantaloons” too tight, Which adds absurdly to his height? My Brother! Who always will a silk hat wear Upon his highly-scented hair, And in his hand a cane-stick bear? My Brother! Who think there ought to be no boys, Who nothing make save “rents” and noise, And rudely spoil our household joys? Their Sisters! _The Boy’s Own Paper_, May 10, 1884. ――――:o:―――― WHO! AH, WHO? Who culled me from a foreign source, And trotted me as his own horse, In brain――spun harness; Why, of course, My Author! Who set me up in type so rare (I heard him at his “devils” swear!) And for my future didn’t care? My Printer. Who sent me like a sandwich forth, And tastily my inward worth Displayed upon the sweetest cloth? My Binder. Who-eyed me with a guardian’s eye, And thought my price, a sov., not high, Cast me forth with, “hey! buy, buy!” My Publisher. Who found a strong “coincidence,” Informed the public how and whence My author gleaned at small expense? MY CRITIC. _The Figaro_, February 18, 1874.