Then with scowling brows they entered; and the barmaid――most impartial of the race of British barmaids――sweetly winked in turn upon them till their hearts within them gladdened; and they drank the luscious “dogsnose,” and their friendly vows repeated, till with arm-in-arm close linking they once more the dim quadrangle crossed, and all was wrapped in silence. * * * * * D. CHRISTIE MURRAY. ―――――――― THE SONG OF PROGRESS. Should you ask me, “Why this hubbub? Why this coming strife of parties? Why the Hyde Park Demonstration? Why the mighty northern meeting? Why Conservatives take counsel With their own selected members, Each admitted with a ticket?” I should answer you in this wise, “Harken to the Song of Progress, Listen to the din of warfare―― Listen for the coming triumph Of the People o’er the Peerage.” By the dark and murky waters, Foul and dank with filth and sewage, Waters which are not pellucid, Of the noble river Isis, Stands a large and stately Palace, Where th’ elected of the people Meet for work of legislation. One a Party firm, united, Loved and trusted by the People. They the Party are of Progress―― Ever have been, ever must be; They the champions who do battle ’Gainst hereditary privilege. Their opponents are a Party Smaller far and disunited. Dwarfed in mind, with doings crooked, Quick to “execute a sharp curve,” With no Policy whatever, Save to stop the work of Progress, They the Party are of Privilege, Who oppose, and ever have done, Social progress of the masses. Should you ask me why the Peerage Rule responsible to no one, What their deeds of wondrous valour, What their wisdom unsurpassed, What their nobleness of nature, What their learning, power, or goodness, That they thus should reign supreme there, I should answer you, “I know not.” This I know, that tho’ their country Scarcely knows the names of any, On the racecourse every welcher, Every gambling scoundrel, blackleg, Knows them there by tens and dozens. I should answer ’tis a relic Of the ignorant Middle Ages, When the king held all the country, Shared it with his greater barons, And the toilers were in bondage. One by one the links of thraldom Have been rent and burst asunder; Few the fetters that are left us Of the hateful Feudal system; But this one stands trembling, tottering, Till the breath of further Freedom, Strengthened by the voice of Gladstone, Bright, and Chamberlain, and Picton, Broadhurst, Illingworth, and Lawson, Shall abolish it for ever. _Funny Folks_, August 16, 1884. ―――――――― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. (_Continued from Part_ 13.)