BRITANNIA'S Sea-Lady-in-Chief, _Rootle-toot!_ And I'm her First Lord, and a ripper. Our chumminess passes belief, _Rootle-toot!_ Lor! When she appointed me skipper Some fancied I'd dawdle--at least, so they said-- Now they see that my motto is--Full Speed Ahead! GEORGIE HAMILTON there with his glass, _Rootle-toot!_ Would spy out the flaws if there were any: EDDARD REED wouldn't let blunders pass, _Rootle-toot!_ They're critical coves, and won't spare any. But bless'em, their scrutiny _I_ do not dread. My motto, you see, Ma'am, is--Full Speed Ahead! Of course, that won't do in a fog, _Rootle-toot!_ But I think there's a clear course afore us! Give way to old-fashioned jig-jog? _Rootle-toot!_ Nay, not by the mothers who bore us! With a sharpish look-out, but without stint or dread, We blow up our horn, Ma'am, for--Full Speed Ahead! Old Nep may regard us with glee, _Rootle-toot!_ Amphitrite may shout an "Ahoy," Ma'am. If you're still on for Killing the Sea,-- _Rootle-toot!_ To back you in that I'm the bhoy, Ma'am. By my heart ('tis true blue), by my beard (it is red), My motto, BRITANNIA, is--Full Speed Ahead! _Britannia._ Bravo, my ruddy-bearded, brave old Triton! Nep shouts approval from his deep-sea grotto. Friends need not fear for me, foes shall not frighten, While you, and all my sons, stick to that motto! * * * * * A PARLIAMENTARY PARADOX.--Sir ELLIS ASHMEAD-BARTLETT (_alias_ "SILOMIO") begs the Government to suppress the Boers. * * * * * CONVALESCENT.--After "a bout" of influenza, the best thing for the patient is to be "about again." * * * * * [Illustration: A FIN-DE-SIÈCLISM! LENT. _Sunday Visitor._ "IS MRS. BROWN AT HOME?" _Servant._ "NO, SIR. MRS. BROWN IS PLAYING LAWN-TENNIS NEXT DOOR." _Sunday Visitor._ "ARE THE _YOUNG LADIES_ AT HOME?" _Servant._ "NO, SIR; THEY ARE AT CHURCH!"] * * * * * MY PARTNER. You would not guess which one I mean, Sweet girl in white, sweet girl in green. Perhaps not either, do you think O even sweeter girl in pink? It's just as well I should not tell Which seemed the belle, sweet girl in pink. So, safely vague, I simply say Her face was fair, her laugh was gay. A lively dance with her would cure The worst of human ills, I'm sure. Her pretty face would soon replace The saddest ease with health I'm sure. A cripple, if he had the chance, Would try undoubtedly to dance; The dullest fool, the saddest cur, Might both be charmed to dance with her; And here's a tip, don't let it slip, To cure _la grippe_ just dance with her.