“You are captured, each man Jack!” says he with a laugh.―― “I beg pardon, your Highness, it’s you and your staff.”―― “Oh dear, no!”――“Yes, yes, really,” the umpire submits, “As your Highness’s men would be knocked all to bits, You must yield yourselves up――no resistance avails.”―― “Don’t you wish you may get it?” says ALBERT OF WALES. With a jerk at his rein, and a stroke of his whip, Then the Prince turns his charger, and gives them the slip. “You have not got me yet,” says he: “follow who may, He must gallop who’s going to take me to-day! You’ll excuse my not stopping to talk of details―― I am off in a hurry!” says ALBERT OF WALES. Then in haste follows STAVELEY, and off gallops GRANT: “Hallo there!”――“Hold him, now!”――“Oh, I’ll stop him!”――“You Can’t!” Down the Hill the Prince goes, seeming little to reck That the Heir to the Throne can break only one neck. “It’s at this sort of speed that they carry the mails; Let who can overtake me!” cries ALBERT OF WALES. _Judy_, October 11, 1871. ―――― THE LATE LIGHT OF THE BAR. Choice of Stoke-upon-Trent, lo, KENEALY[36] confest, Pledged to see the foul wrongs of SIR ROGER redressed! Save his grievance and gingham he weapons had none; He went unabashed, and he went all alone, As though stainless in ’scutcheon, in fame without scar,―― Who e’er equalled for brass this late Light of the Bar? He stayed not for scoff, and he stopped not for groan; What were “Orders” to him, who takes orders from none? But ere he alighted at Westminster Gate, The House was well-filled, though the doctor came late; For the night’s blushing honours were shared, and at par, ’Twixt JOHN MITCHEL and him, this late Light of the Bar. So boldly he entered the High Commons’ hall, Among Whigs, Rads, Conservatives, alien all, While calm, cold, and cutting, the SPEAKER was heard, Through the silence, unbroken by cheer or by word, “In breach of the House-Standing-Order you are, Without introducers thus passing our Bar!” “I stuck to the Claimant: his claims were denied: Bench might beard me and Bar; Bar and Bench I defied! And now I am come, with this lost cause of mine, Like CROMWELL, to bid hence that ‘bauble’ of thine: Learn how wide-spread my fame, whom the much-wrongèd Gaikwâr Had retained,[37] had there not been that sinister Bar.” Dropped by all like hot poker, JOHN BRIGHT took him up―― “Not e’en from such lips should this House dash the cup. If WHALLEY has spirit to lend me a hand, By Stoke-upon-Trent’s new-made Member I’ll stand.” But DISRAELI moved, “Waive the rule, better far: Some will force their way over, some under, the Bar.”