Should St. Stephen’s be wise, and this maxim adopt, Every sort of reporting we soon might have stopped. No longer that twaddling bosh should we see, “The Toast of the Evening”――all thanks to Dundee Then go on and prosper, each striking young maid, You are sweet as the taste of your own marmalade. From henceforth we’ll hope no memorial to see Of the doings of maidens in Bonnie Dundee. _The Hornet_, June 19, 1872. ―――― BONNIE BAR-GEE. “’Tis a jolly conception!”――’twas Truscott who spoke―― “Though Temple Bar’s gone, we can still have our joke; So let each civic wag who loves humour and me, Vote for putting this Stone where the Bar used to be. Come, out with your trowels, and up with the Stone, Though Cabmen may cavil, and Bus-drivers groan, We care for no pleadings or warnings――not we! For it’s up with the cry, ‘Calipash! Calipee!’” Now the Stone is erected, objectors are beat, And the Civic wags laugh at the block in the Fleet, While Truscott, the joker, cries, “Well, as you see, ’Tis a noble memorial of humour and Me!” So crash goes the hansom, and smash goes the van, There’s a mingling together of horse, wheel, and man, Just over the spot where the Bar used to be They triumphantly cry, “Calipash! Calipee!” There are fools in the East as in West, South, or North, But there yet may be time ere the edict go forth, Since there _are_ sober men who the reason can’t see For obstructing the Fleet where the Bar used to be, Come, put up the trowels, and leave well alone; Come, abandon the scheme, and have done with the Stone! For if once set up, ’twould a laughing-stock be, To be fitly inscribed “Calipash! Calipee!” _Punch_, September 18, 1880. The Temple Bar memorial, erected in the centre of a narrow and very busy thoroughfare, cost London over £12,000. So great was the annoyance it caused, both on account of its obstruction and its ugliness, that two policemen were placed to guard it night and day, yet, in spite of their watchfulness, the carvings were smashed wherever they could be reached. The grotesque Griffin which surmounts the memorial is still the laughing stock of every passer-by. ―――― THE DISSOLUTION. In the House of St. Stephen’s Britannia thus spoke: You will now be released and can take off the yoke. As you’ve meddled and muddled till all is at sea, The majority of you can go to the D.! You have squandered my money in powder and shot; Whom you should have protected you gave it to hot. You did this, and much more, in the name of the free, So away you incompetents! Go to the D.!