The great Sir James[106] of Charing Cross By the whole Board he swore That carriage folk for Richmond Should risk their lives no more, By the whole Board he swore it, And named a closing day, And bade his engineers ride forth To stop all traffic with the North, And block the right of way. “To stop all traffic with the North,” The news it flies full fast, And terrace, lodge and villa, Are staggered at the blast. Shame on the slave of Mortlake Content for hours to roam, Because Sir James of Charing Cross, By Putney sends him home. (_Five verses omitted._) Time was, when after dining Beyond proud Notting’s ridge, A halfpenny would bring him Across the classic bridge: For Hammersmith and Mortlake, Ere both of them were sold, Were like suburban brothers In the brave days of old. But meanwhile axe and lever Have ruthlessly been plied, And soon the ancient structure Will have a new inside. But louder grows the thunder About the route to town,―― And p’raps they’ll get a wooden bridge A little lower down. So in some night next Winter, When the cold Easters blow, And the omnibus comes slipping Amid the frozen snow; When round the lonely villa The fog wets to the skin, And the cheap coals of Wallsend Chokes everyone within. When the latest bill is opened, And the dimmest gas is lit, And the curtains are drawn closer, O’er the windows that won’t fit; When the leaden pipe is bursting With the water it provides; When the girls are reading novels, And the boys are making slides; When the goodman scans his cheque book, With a fitting Christmas gloom; And the goodwife’s chatter sharply Goes snapping round the room; With threats and imprecations, The tale may still be told How great Sir James blocked up the bridge That served quite well of old. _Punch._ September 30, 1882. ―――― HOW GLADSTONE WON THE ELECTION. I. Our Queen’s Most Gracious Majesty, By the rich gems she wore, Declared “Her faithful Commons” Should waste their time no more. With her own tongue she said it, And would not brook delay, But bade her officers ride forth, East, and west, and south, and north, To scatter the array. II. East and west, and south and north, The officers went fast, And cottage, town, and county Have heard the trumpet blast; Shame on th’ enfranchised Briton Who does not find his voice, When country, Queen, and duty, Demand to know his choice. III. For though her “faithful Commons,” The Queen must needs dissolve, The gov’ning of the Empire Requires her quick resolve, To call another Parliament Of loyal men and true, Who shall devise laws good and wise, And change old things to new. * * * * *