Ouf! What a pull! Who said my muscularity Was dwindling? It is truly Amazonian! _Ma foi!_ _Phraseurs_ are not all blessed with clarity, Even when their eloquence _is_ Ciceronian. How now, MILLEVOYE? How now, mad DÉROULÈDE? And what of the grim prophecies you made? Both out of it--as prophets and as Strong-Men! Discredited, disqualified, defeated! The _Ralliés_ too! Results prove them the wrong men. How the _Gazette de France_ has blared and bleated! What lots of foes have I left in the lurch!-- Thanks largely to "the attitude of the Church"! "_Cléricalisme, voilà l'ennemi?_" _Non!_ That phrase, oft-quoted, comes not now so readily. Perennially beautiful as NINON, I've proved my claim to power of pulling steadily; Just like my rowing lads upon the Seine, Who've shown big BULL that strength _can_ go with brain. From Revolution round to firm Stability!! Upon my word, I think that pull is splendid. _Les dames_, long pooh-poohed, now display ability To do--most things as well as ever men did. Because I'm _gai_ and witty, fools--of course-- Fancied me destitute of sinewy force. Ah, DELAHAYE, DRUMONT, and ANDRIEUX, verily You've found the game was hardly worth the--scandal! My firebrand foes played up that game right merrily; Against me _anything_ would serve as handle; Yet, after WILSON, Panama, (_and_ Siam), They find that if there is an athlete, _I_ am. Babblers of "British Gold," canard-concocters, Reactionaries, _Ralliés_, Rowdies, Royalists-- All who would act as my exclusive doctors-- You find the Voters are the real loyalists, And, spite of partial failures in the past, I've pulled this State Machine right round--at last! * * * * * BRUTUS OF BRUMMAGEM. On a "False Foe" my venom I may spend, But what of my "Right Honourable Friend"? Ask "the ironic fiend." He'll give an answer, Neatly combining Scorpio with Cancer, As "Right" I'll prove him ever in the wrong; As "Honourable," trickiest of the throng; While as "my friend," well there, I would not swagger, But CÆSAR sharpest found the "friendly" dagger! * * * * * WORDS! WORDS! WORDS! (_By an Unpaired M.P., who has "Sat it Out."_) M.P.'s gagged? Why, tongues have wagged Seventy days, or eighty. Little said on any head Has been wise or weighty. Gag's all hum! How shall we sum Seven long weeks' oration?-- _Polyphrasticontinomemegalondulation!_ BARTLEY, BOWLES--loquacious souls!-- HANBURY and RUSSELL, Have kept going, seldom "slowing" In the talky tussle. SAUNDERSON went sparring on, JOE pursued jobation.-- _Polyphrasticontinomemegalondulation!_