That shut _him_ up, the lolloper! He know'd I'd took his measure, And squelching 'umbugs always do give me pertikler pleasure. JONES sorter set 'is cap at me; I earn good money _I_ do; But love as follows L.S.D. 's all fol-der-riddle-dido! "Bashing a knobstick's ripping fun, no doubt--for them as bashes; But this here new petroleum game won't work." Here JONES'S lashes-- They're stubby, ginger, sly-fox ones--got kinder tangle-twinkle. I 'ad my eye on 'im, the worm, while working out my winkle. (I'd got a pennorth in a bag; they're things to which I'm partial.) "We _must_ bust up Mernopoly," sez SAM, a-looking martial. "The 'Oly Cause o' Labour carn't be stayed by trifles, 'ARRIET! JUDAS must 'ang, 'twere weakness to show mercy to ISCARIOT!" "Bit o' yer platform gag," sez I. "You keep it for the club, SAM. 'Twon't comfort me, nor your old mother toiling at the tub, SAM. The 'Oly Cause o' Labour, SAM 's, a splendid thing to spout about, But it's a thing as skulkers makes _the_ most tremenjus rout about." I'm only just a work-girl, POLL, one of the larky drudges As swarm acrost the bridge at night and 'omeward gaily trudges, A tootling "_Ta-ra-boom-de-ay_," a chaffing of the fellers, And flourishing their feathered 'ats bright reds, and blues and yellers. As vulgar as they make 'em, POLL. Leastways the chaps whose trade is To write and dror in Comics, call hus "anythink but ladies." Ladies? O lor! On thirteen bob a week, less sundry tanners For fines, it's none so easy, POLL, to keep up style and manners. But work-girls _work_, and that is more than SAM and _'is_ sort--drat 'em! When I see shirks platforming, POLL, I'm longing to get at 'em. When Women's Rights include the charnce of gettin' a fair 'earing For Women's Wrongs--wy then there'll be less bashing and less beering. As for the Vote--well, _I_ dunno. It seems pertikler curious That politics makes a man a hass, they drives the fellers furious. If Votes sets women by the ears, as they does men, my winky! I guess 'twill make domestic life even more crabbed and kinky. Wy _my_ young man--you know 'im, POLL--whose temper's real milky, Whose 'art is soft as 'is merstarche--and that is simply silky-- Got that rouged up on polling day, along of a young Tory As called him names. I 'ad to 'ug 'im off to stop the gory. The chap was in the 'atting line, and thought BALFOUR a 'ero; Whereas my MICK 'as Hirish blood, and calls 'im "Niminy Nero." I don't a bit know what they meant, but if them votes should send _hus_ As fairly off our chumps as men, the shine _will_ be tremendous!