The King in the Quirinal, Feeling very funny; The Kaiser in a parlour, Tired after journey. The Pope was in the Vatican, Looking at his shoe; Up comes the Emperor, And says, “How d’ye do?” October, 1888. ―――― Sing a song of sixpence, in pockets made to lie, One of forty art-birds, asked to shape the die; When the dye was token’d, all who saw the mien Sang――“This is not a dainty ‘tiz’[14] to set before the Queen.” The Queen was in her country house, counting up her money; Prince B.[15] was in the pantry, spreading his bread with honey; The Chancellor was in the garden, hanging out old clothes, When soon there came back word this “tizzy” to depose. _Truth._ June 14, 1888. ―――― Sing a song of Chamberlain, three acres and a cow, Sent across the herring-pond cannot end the row; Breaking up his party in a fit of spleen, Wasn’t that the meanest dodge that any one has seen! Harty’s turned a Tory, fêted in the City, Jess and Bright are martyrs――isn’t it a pity? Goschen’s in the Cabinet, happy with the cash, Up will come the Radicals, and settle all his hash. RADIX. Sing a song of armaments, an empire all awry, Four-and-twenty critics raise a doleful cry; A capital defenceless, ships without guns or shot. When the threatened war breaks out, won’t Johnny get it hot! Johnny is busy in his shop, making and saving money, His women kind are humming round, like bees in search of honey; His crafty foes are scheming to bring matters to a close, By smashing up his ironclads, and pulling Johnny’s nose. W. H. T. _Truth._ June 28, 1888. ―――― THE PARNELL COMMISSION. Sing a song of tricksters, Commission all my eye! Walter’s dirty finger Traced in the pie; When the bill was promised It had an honest ring, But when it was printed ’Twas quite another thing. The First Lord in his parlour, As the bees suck honey, Was listening to Walter Giving testimony; The pay for smashing Parnell ’S a peerage, I suppose; A few more bogus letters And “up the donkey goes.” H. M. BLANE. THE ALLEGATIONS BILL. Sing a song of libels, A session full of crimes, All the Tory Cabinet Stewing with the _Times_; When the case is ended Another tune they’ll sing―― Won’t it be a pretty mess If they together cling? Goschen paying for the job With the people’s money; Smith and Walter swearing that The forgeries were “funny”; Chamberlain and Hartington Looking down their nose, And Parnell triumphant, Grinning at his foes. JESSE H. WHEELER. _The Weekly Dispatch._ August 12, 1888. ―――― THE CONSPIRATORS’ CHORUS.