Sherry, sherry everywhere And all my throat did shrink; Sherry, sherry everywhere But not a soul could drink! My very hair did steam. The deuce! That ever this should be; Yea, drunken subs did crawl on knees, Fit subjects for D. T. About, about, in reel and rout, The mess room danced at sight; The bottles, like a witch’s oils, Burnt green, and red, and white. And both my eyes from too much “fizz,” Were red as in some trouble; And everything I looked at seemed To me reflected double. Then past a hazy time――each one Left at the hour of four; When nearing homewards I beheld A something at my door. At first it seemed a battered post, And then it seemed a blot; It turned and turned and took at last A certain shape I wot. With looks aghast, with eyes set fast I could not speak for life; Through utter fright quite mad I looked; I bit my lips, my fate was booked―― I saw _my wife_! MY WIFE!! From _Squibs_, by Edwin Oliver. ―――― YE ANCIENT MARINER. _By a Modern Sharp._ It was an ancient mariner, Who rang the front-door bell; With gold-laced cap and rolling gait, His part he acted well. It was the lady of the house Who opened wide the door; “My lady, I am steward of The gallant Singapore. “She’s lying at East Boston now, Where all the gallant Cu- Narders land their passengers; I’m steward of her crew. “And I have here a case of knives―― Real plate and nary sham; They’ve come ashore without the form Of seeing Uncle Sam.[84] “They cost me just five dollars, mum; They’re marked real triple plate; I bought ’em for a party which Have skipped from out the State.” Then up the subtle lady spoke; “I know the Singapore; And on her voyage to Liverpool She’s six days out or more. “An’ if ye be the steward bold, She’s given you the slip; I pray thee, gentle steward, go And join another ship. “These triple-plated knives have ne’er Paid Uncle Sam the dues; They make ’em in Connecticut―― They’re just the sort I use. “So, gentle mariner, sheer off!” He beat a quick retreat, But sold his “smuggled” knives and spoons A few doors down the street. _Detroit Free Press._ January 31, 1885. ―――― THE ADMIRALTY GOOSE; OR, THE MODERN MARINER. It is a Modern Mariner, Who hath never been to sea. “Come Northbrook, with that winking eye, What wouldst thou have of me? The Commons’ doors are opened wide, They’re waiting to begin; The Opposition fume and fret: Mayst hear the nasty din.” He holds him with official grip. “We’ve built a ship,” quoth he. “Hold off! Unhand me, naval loon! A ship! It cannot be.” He holds him with his winking eye―― The Premier he stood still, And listens like some new M.P. In charge of his first Bill.