You may garsp out yer aitches in spassums, until you 'ave got a sore throat, And it won't give you "clarss" arf as much as cool cheek and the cut o' your coat. Wot the mivvies call hinsolent _hotoor_, wot cocktails dub cocksure conceit, With snideness and "suitings" to match,--_that_, dear boy, is wot makes the _eleet_. There, HARRY, you've got it in once! And, now, dear boy, 'ow about you? Well, I guess, as the Yankees observe, you 'ave bit hoff a chunk you can't chew. Bit vulgar? Well, never mind that, mate, for, spite of _your_ finnickle fuss, It's jest wot you guffins calls "vulgar" as swells love to borrer from _hus_. There's _chick_ in it, HARRY, and that's wot you chalk-witted chowders ain't got. Not one snappy snide phrase in your sermon, except that old gag "tommy rot," Which _you_ didn't invent, nor your sort; it's hus aitchless ones start all the fun, And our yesterday's wheeze you freeze on to to-morrer, as sure as a gun. And the same with your sentiments, HARRY. Your loud "Rule, Britannyer" sall right; But _we_ gave you the patriot tip, years ago, in "_We don't want to fight._" You water it down, and then wave it as if 'twos your own privit flag, And then, arter nicking our principerles, slang us--_and with our own gag!_ I'm one with you as to the furriner, leastways _you_ seem one with _me_, And when you rile up at the rot about "'ARRIES Abroad," I agree. _I_ shan't discumfuddle myself if they _don't_ like my tystes or my togs. Let the Germans go 'ome and eat coke, Frenchies stick to their snyles and stewed frogs. But when you suggest as the "aitch" makes a 'a'porth o' difference--Bosh! You call me a "aitch-droppin' howler," whilst you are "a gent"! It won't wash. _Me_ a Rad,--arter all I 'ave written? 'Taint much on it _you_ can 'ave seen. And to ask _Punch_ to give me the chuck!--yah! it's mean, Mister HARRY, it's mean! [Footnote A: See "Harry on 'Arry," p. 81.] * * * * * [Illustration: "CALM AND PEACE." LORD S-L-SB-RY (_Skipper_). "WELL, ARTHUR, WE'VE WON OUR RACES--AND NOW WE CAN TAKE IT EASY!" ["I hope we shall have a period of calm and peace."--_Mr. Balfour's Speech, August 12._]] "A Battersea bounder," too! Rats!!! Do you think I'm a pal o' JACK BURNS? Mix _me_ with "the masses"? Great Scott! It's a thought as the soul o' me spurns. You jumped-up, cheap, Coventry bagman, silk-sampling, no doubt, is your biz, But sampling "the classes and masses" is _not_, blow me tight if it is!