“Will you walk into our death-trap?” Say the surgeons so serene, “’Tis the neatest little death-trap That there ever yet has been; The beds are most inviting, The sheets are nice and white―― And when you get between ’em You can bid the world good-night.” “We have wards to suit all parties,” Say the surgeons so serene, “But the one we’re recommending Is that special ward――eighteen. Kindly cut your little finger, And select your little bed―― Then, before a week is over, You will certainly be dead.” “If you fracture say your elbow, And come here to get it dress’t―― Well, your arm is amputated And you find eternal rest; For your blood is surely poisoned, And so deadly is the taint That you’re here, perchance, one morning, And, to-morrow, here you ain’t. “When some nasty broken chilblains Give you trouble with your toes, Oh! we take your leg, and presto! In a moment off it goes. It is getting on quite nicely, Is that amputated pin, When, as certain as the sunrise, Erysipelas sets in. “Then walk into our death-trap―― Harry, Tommy Johnny, Bob―― We have instruments in plenty And are always on the job; ’Tis the very surest death-trap That the world has ever seen, Make your wills and have a shake-down In our special ward――eighteen.” _The Sydney Bulletin._ August 7, 1886. ―――― HARCOURT AND CHAMBERLAIN. “Will you walk into our parlour?” said the Spider to the Fly; “’Tis the cosiest little parlour, friend, that ever you did spy―― The way into this parlour is quite wide, as you’re aware, And, oh! we’ll do such wondrous things when once we get _you_ there! Then, won’t you, won’t you, won’t you, won’t you, Pretty little fly?” Now, as I’ve heard, this little fly was young, but wary, too, And so he thought, I’ll mind my eye――the thing may be a do! So “No, no!” said that little fly; “kind Sir, that cannot be, I’ve heard what’s in your parlour, and I do not wish to see.” That Spider he was portly, and that Spider he was bland, And he played the part of siren for an even Older Hand. Says he, “Oh, Fly, you must be tired of being on the shelf, Why don’t you just step in awhile, if but to rest yourself?” “Our parlour’s snugly furnished, for expense we never spare, We’ve such a nice Round Table; you shall have an easy chair. It seems incomplete without you as a sort of settled guest; Turn up solitary buzzing now; step in and take a rest.” That little Fly looked longingly. Thinks he, “I _do_ feel tired, I’m fond of cosy parties, and I like to be admired. Yet I have a slight suspicion that the thing may be a trap―― I twig something in the corner――I distrust that fat old chap.”