As an instance of a burlesque――of a burlesque, a few verses may be quoted from one which was given in _Punch_:―― FIRE AND WATER.[98] (_With Apologies to the Shades of the Authors of “Rejected Addresses.”_) The Fire Fiend was curst with unquenchable thirst, And his gnomes to his aid having beckoned, From Cornhill to Clapham he flew at a burst, And furious flames soon arose from the first, And volumes of smoke from the second. The Fire Fiend was hungry as Moloch of old, And knew not the meaning of pity: The new _Edax Rerum_; voraciously bold, His maw a red gulf that was ready to hold The calcined remains of a City. That Phlegethon-gorge might have served as the grave Of man and his works altogether; But Shaw, the new Life-guardsman, swordless but brave, Was ever at hand to extinguish and save, And hold the Red Ogre in tether. The Fire Fiend as usual went at full pelt, But Shaw at his heels followed faster, Of leather well tanned were Shaw’s boots and his belt, And his helmet was brazen for fear it should melt, And the Fire Demon knew him as master. The Fire Fiend possessed a most hideous phiz, Polyphemus’s was not more horrid, Unkempt and unwashed was that visage of his, For water that touched it went off with a whiz! It _was_ so tremendously torrid. But Shaw on his enemy kept a cool eye, Of vigilant valour the symbol, Affrighted no more by the Fire Demon’s cry Than the squeak of a rat; if the Fire Fiend was spry, His opponent was equally nimble. For Water, Fire’s foe, at his best freely flows, And the Fire Demon dares not to linger Whenever his enemy turns on the hose; He stands in much fear of this foeman, and those Who flock at the lift of his finger. The Fire Fiend has schemes, it is credibly said, For laying half London in ashes; But Water――and Shaw――are the things he must dread, And at sight of an engine he shakes his red head, And his teeth like a lunatic gnashes. But his fire-gnomes he multiplies lately so fast That the task of repressing them’s trying; The flare that they make and the heat that they cast, Are so great that the Fiend seems resolved in one blast To set the Metropolis frying. He blazes and blazes; Shaw gallops to snatch His prey from its desperate danger; But the Demon’s a deuce of a rider to catch, And it taxes brave Shaw to continue a match For the fiery noctivagant ranger. And if London is wise she assistance will call, For the Water King needs the alliance Of hands that are sturdy and limbs that are tall, To give the Fire Demon a rattling good fall, And set all his imps at defiance. (_Eight verses omitted._) _Punch._ August 20, 1887. ――――