Though soon beneath our vessels They may terrific burn, With ships of steel and hearts of oak We trust their power to spurn; That still our ocean warriors To sea may safely go, And win new fame for England’s name With an open-handed blow, While the enemy’s fleet is blown sky high With their own vile Tor-pe-dö. _Funny Folks._ ―――― YE INFANTRY OF ENGLAND. A Military Ode. Imitated from Campbell. “_Fas est et ab hoste doceri._” Ye Infantry of England, Supposed to guard our shores, Who made a precious mess of it In trying to pot the Boers, Your ready rifles take again, And try another style; Nor fool by old rule While the foreign critics smile, Whilst the Dutchman chuckles loud and long, And our foreign critics smile. BRITANNIA needs instructors To teach her boys to shoot, Fixed targets and mere red-tape drill Have borne but bitter fruit. Our blunders are a standing joke, The scandal of our Isle, And the Boer loud doth roar, Whilst our foreign critics smile. Whilst the Teuton guffaws loud and long, And our foreign critics smile. The cartridges of England In waste terrific burn; In sighting and in snap-shots, we From foes have much to learn. Then come, ye pipeclayed Infantry, And go to school awhile, Till the fame of your aim Shall no more make foemen smile; Till the Dutchman’s chuckle’s heard no more, And your foes have ceased to smile. _Punch._ ―――― THE PERILS OF PARLIAMENT. Ye Gentlemen of England, Who stay at home at ease, Ye little think upon the ills That threaten our M.P.’s! Now that throughout the House again The flood of talk will flow, And will roar O’er the floor While the storms of party blow, While discussion rages loud and long, And the storms of party blow! The Spirit of Obstruction Will start from every side; New coalitions will be formed, Old combinations tried; The Alderman will shout “Yah! Yah!” Lord Randolph talk more stuff, Whilst a roar O’er the floor Will proclaim his new rebuff, And noises weird and varied tell That Warton’s taking snuff. His meteor pocket-handkerchief, Shall oft terrific burn, Whilst weary legislators long, But vainly, to adjourn; Shall wave whilst dreary platitudes Tempt Ministers to weep, Or some bore On the floor Talks the faithful few to sleep; Whilst the dazed but ever-active “whips” Their endless vigil keep.