To be or not to be polite, that is the question; Whether ’tis better in a ’bus to suffer The torments which are ever consequent Upon the proclamation “Full inside”; To have your knees impress’d by tons Of your stout neighbour’s well-drenched bombazine, And be made a stand for her fast-dripping gamp; Or, p’haps, a seat which, in your genteel grace, You charitably give her half-drown’d brat, And patiently receive the running stream Which proves the virtues of her waterproof; To be half-chok’d, half-suffocated By the steam fumes, condensing as they rise, From sodden serge and water’d silk or crape; To bear with patience sundry visits from The gouty foot of your aged _vis-à-vis_, Envious of your one only favourite corn; To feel just like a herring in a tub, Or sardine, pickled and encased in oil―― To be, in short, a martyr to yourself, Or victim of your ungentility? Or be _gallant_, and, for a lady’s sake, Deny yourself the pleasure of these woes; Gracefully――that is, if gracefully you can, Spite of aforesaid hindrances――yield Your inside station to a fairer fare, Removing to the knifeboard, there to be The prey of downright, but more wholesome ills―― The heav’n-sent rain――not tepid drops Reaching you second-hand, as those inside; And as you journey on towards your home, Find consolation in the honest thought That you have done the very thing you ought?―― That is the question, and I solve it thus: _A man should always ride outside a ’bus_. C. B. _Gossip_, May 16, 1885. ――――:o:―――― TO PRINT, OR NOT TO PRINT.