SMART Mr. FOX, whose brain no conscience troubles, Floated a Company--for blowing bubbles! "Bubbles?" the duller creatures cried in chorus, "Are you not coming nursery nonsense o'er us? What is the use of bubbles--save to boys?" "Hush!" cried 'cute Reynard. "Do not make a noise! Bubbles--if bright--are cunning's best decoys. Bubbles are only wind plus soap and water; But well-stirred suds, and well-blown flatulence, In this fool world, have influence immense, And draw unthinking dupes from every quarter. Eloquence is but Wind, yet flowery trope Is Humbug's favourite lure; And what is Diplomatic Skill but soap? Trust me! Success is sure! Bubbles are bright, bewitch the mob, float far, And cost the blower little. The watery sphere _looks_ like a world, a star, And when it bursts, being exceeding brittle, Where it explodes (as at the rainbow's foot) There's hidden treasure--for the clever brute Who knows that gulls are the great wealth-bestowers, Bubbles mean solid bullion--for the blowers!" The shrewder animals applauded. Lupus Cried, "We are with you, so you do not dupe us!" Ursus and Taurus also, Bull and Bear, Were eager in the game to take a share. Said Vulpus to the assembled quadrupeds, "Company Boards, like ships, need figureheads, Wooden but ornamental! Eh? You twig? Sweet are the uses of--the Guinea Pig! Dull, but respectable and decorative, That tribe, to whom credulity is native. They'll sit around our Board in solemn row, And never, never 'want to know, you know,' Beyond convenient limits. Their proud presence Will fill our flock with faith; their acquiescence, So readily secured by liberal fees, Will make the mob accept our schemes with ease. Behold them! They will give us little trouble By wanting--well, to analyse the Bubble; So they get something for themselves more solid, They'll sit serene and stolid In titled sloth and coronetted slumber. I can secure them, friends, in any number; For Guinea Pigs are numerous and prolific And as decoys their influence is mirific. So whilst we work our Bubble-blowing rigs, Hurrah, for Guinea Pigs! They'll take our fees, assent to our suggestions, And ask no awkward questions." MORAL. The rank's the guinea's stamp, says Scotland's ROB, But if you want to bubble, juggle, job, You'll find, with Vulpus, the Promoter big, Rank is the stamp of the true Guinea Pig! * * * * * [Illustration: THE NEW CHIMNEY. _Mike._ "FAITH, TIM, YE HAVEN'T GOT UT STRAIGHT AT ALL! IT LANES OVER TO THE ROIGHT!" _Tim._ "OH, YE'RE WRONG. IT'S PLUMB EX-HACT! IT'S MYSELF THAT PLUMBED UT MOSHT CAREFUL. INDADE, IF UT HAS A FAULT, IT LANES OVER AN INCH OR TEW TO THE LEFT, WHEN YE LOOK AT UT FROM BEHOIND!!"] * * * * * THE POOR MAN AND HIS BEER.