This is the first verse of a political parody which is contained in “_Joseph and his Brethren_,” by W. A. S. P., a sixpenny pamphlet published in 1885, by Foulger and Co., London. The advanced Radical opinions then held by Mr. Joseph Chamberlain were strongly advocated in the poems and parodies in this pamphlet. ―――― A LAY OF MODERN LONDON. _By the Shade of Lord Macaulay._ An anonymous parody of twenty verses, printed apparently about 1880, but having no printer’s name, place, or date, commenced thus: Jon Runcius of Hacne By the nine gods he swore That the ninth seat at Stepne Should vacant be no more. By the nine gods he swore it, And he marked the Meeting Day, And made his circulars go forth, East and West, and South and North, To summon his array. East and West, and South and North, The circulars go round, And every Proprietor, A proxy-form hath found. Shame on the weak Shareholder, Who chafes at being bored, When Runcius of Hacne Is going for the Board! _The Last Verse._ When the goodman buys “Commercial,” When we near the half-year’s end, When the goodwife counts her holding, And scents her dividend, With zest, tut no ill-will or spite, Still be the story told, How well _Bradshauvus_ kept the Board, And somebody was sold! ―――― VOLUMNIA. Just at the ides of April They were in marriage tied, The noblest Roman of them all Unto the fairest bride; Volumnia her _nomen_ was, And Lartius was her “spoon;” The twain went to Tarentum, To pass the honeymoon. Yet, when the ides of August Had swiftly glided by, For a new Autumnal bonnet The bride began to cry He said: “My dear Volumnia I cannot give you that.” Yet still her cry was: “Lartius, I want a new style hat!” He was a speculator In stocks of every sort; But down, far down had fallen, The stocks which Lartius bought, Had fallen down until his purse Was as a pancake flat. Yet still her cry was: “Lartius, I want a novel hat!” “Volumnia,” said Lartius, “Now, really you must cease―― I cannot give you what you ask, So let me have some peace; I’m busted, used up, done for, And all that sort of thing, If bonnets cost a sesterce I could not buy a string.” Yet still she kept on crying Aloud for a new hat. He had it with his muffins, When he at breakfast sat; He had it with his roasted joint, When dinner was served hot; And still it came at supper With toast and the tea-pot. Then Lartius donned his toga, And by the Gods he swore That such an endless nagging He would endure no more. “I’ll to the Lictor,” quoth he, “And tell my tale straightway. I’ll tell to Consul and Tribune How she does nag and importune And see what they will say.”