Three fishes were floating about in the sea; Three fishes which were of the Jelly-fish kind, And being perceived by a certain grandee, They called up at once, as he said, to his mind, How much they resembled in form and degree, Three colleagues he recently had left behind. And men now will laugh and women must smile At this very apt joke of the Duke of Argyll. These fishes, he said, iridescent but limp Seem’d all at first sight to be able to sail, But examined had not e’en so much as the shrimp The power of propelling themselves by the tail; They neither had skeletons, nerve, nor backbone, Were nothing but jelly, no will of their own, So women must scoff at, and men will deride These structureless creatures adrift in the tide. This witty grandee has been wont to come out, To come out of his house when the sun has gone down, To meet with his compeers, tall, lean, short and stout, And bishops arrayed in black gaiters and gown, But no one could predicate till he’d begin, With head well thrown back and with prominent chin, Whether friends had to cheer or opponents to moan, Over what would among them most surely be thrown. But all must rejoice, and none can deplore, Our having among us the Mac Allum More. _Morning Post_, August 4, 1881. ―――― THE THREE FISHERS. Three Tories[47] went bravely down into the North, Away to the North which the “Rads” love best; Each thought of the man that had driven him forth, From the snug little berth that he once possessed: For Placemen must live, though the country may starve, And sometimes a blister, and sometimes a salve, Will set party waves a-rolling. Three Orators spoke for many an hour, And told ’em the blunders that Gladstone had made, Which they only could right if returned into power: And they gave ’em some pious “opinions” on trade. For Placemen must live, and――though hardly the thing, Yet even to Newcastle coals you must bring, To set Tory tides a-rolling. Three “Failures” came back, as we’ve all of us read, Sad, if not wiser, to London town; For e’en Tory organs were shaking a head, And hinted they’d better have not gone down. But Placemen must live――every dog has a day, And even “Fair Trade” may, for once in a way, Keep party waves a-rolling. From _Grins and Groans_. 1882. ―――― THE ACADEMY, 1882. THE MEW-STONE. J. W. OAKES, A.R.A.