I found the public vulgar scenes liked best, (_A goodly balance is fair to see_!) And so I painted my great “Crowner’s Quest;” (_The rarest of letters are £ s. d._!) And when its sordid realism took, I gave them next my “Fair at Donnybrook.” And “Tourists up the Rhine with Mr. Cook.” (_O, sweet is the chink of cash to me!_) These made my name, and then the Starch firm, Plums, (_A goodly balance is fair to see_!) To paint them posters gave me lordly sums; (_The rarest of letters are £ s. d._!) And there was not a hoarding but did bear (Above my name, writ large,) a dainty pair Of damsels, who starched collarettes did wear. (_O, sweet is the chink of cash to me!_) Since then I’ve turned my art to fresh accounts, (_A goodly balance is fair to see_!) And rival razors puffed for large amounts. (_O, rarest of letters are £ s. d._!) I’ve painted, too, with realistic tricks, “The Penny Steamboat’s Progress” (set of six), From Old Swan Pier, till at Vauxhall she sticks! (_O, sweet is the chink of cash to me!_) _Truth._ Christmas Number, 1882. ―――― LONDON TOWN. _A Lyric à la Mode._ Kent-born HELEN, England’s pride, (_O London Town_!) Had a waist a world too wide For the height of her heart’s desire. Vinegar she in vain had tried. (_O London Town! Fashion’s thralls ne’er tire_!) HELEN knelt at Fashion’s shrine, (_O London Town_!) Saying, “A little boon is mine, A little boon, but my heart’s desire. Here me speak, and make me a sign! (_O London Town! Fashion’s thralls ne’er tire!_) “Look! my waist is in excess, (_O London Town_!) I would die to have it less. Shape it to my heart’s desire. Fit for fashionable dress. (_O London Town! Fashion’s thralls ne’er tire!_) “It is moulded like a Greek’s, (_O London Town_!) One of Nature’s spiteful freaks. Pinch it to my heart’s desire: I am full of pains and piques. (_O London Town! Fashion’s thralls ne’er tire!_) “See BELL FANE’S, how slim it is! (_O London Town_!) Eighteen inches at most, I wis! Poisons the cup of my heart’s desire. O that _I_ should suffer this! (_O London Town! Fashion’s thralls ne’er tire!_) “Yea, for straitness here I sue! (_O London Town!_) Antifat I find won’t do; Give me, give me, my heart’s desire, Three inches less, or at least full two.” (_O London Town! Fashion’s thralls ne’er tire!_) (_Eight verses omitted._) _Punch._ April 24, 1880. ――――