Charles Cochrane there, whose yellow hair Waves o’er his manly brow He built a mighty furnace, the cause of all the Row. This furnace was more wide and big Than any other known, And, Cochrane said, t’would make more pig As could be clearly shown. And then he quoted figures, which were an awful bore, And of the members some did yawn, some shuffled on the floor. Bell shook his head, and then he said The figures were all wrong. The blast put in was much _too weak_ The facts were all _too strong_! And in his pleasant, genial way He “hoped the Chair would let him say That Cochrane was a fool!” Then Cowper great, from Storey’s Gate, He raised his voice on high And swore an oath, a mighty oath, He swore that Bell should die! Each chieftain hastened to the brawl In vain did Bramwell “Order” call. Cried Marshall “What will Europe think? When Cochrane hurled a pot of Ink Full in the face of Bell! Now Williams to the rescue! oh! What man alive could tell The laughter that arose all round When they saw the face of Bell? But Bell he rushed at Cochrane And smote him fearful blows; He gave him _one_ between the eyes, And _two_ upon the nose! They rose, they fell, with gasp, and yell And angry oath and roar; Whilst Ink and Blood, one horrid flood Did cover all the floor! Then, Carbutt, Mighty Hammer, and Bramwell in the Chair And Siemens of the Telegraph, did wish they were not there. Whilst all the other members thought It was a funny way. To settle scientific points In that far distant day. But high above the mighty din, was Hawksley heard to say “Ho! Gentlemen, Ho! Gentlemen, let’s stop this horrid fray!” So they sent out for the Serjeants, the Serjeants of Police, The Constables of Manchester, in the interests of Peace. They bade them pick those members up, And wipe the blood away, Whilst others washed each inky stain From off the floor that day.