Poor Miss HARKER went to Stockton, to Stockton on the Tees, But not to make her fortune, or to loll at home at ease; She went to be a governess, and hoped, it would appear, To board and lodge and dress herself on £15 a-year. A lady once informed us how a lady can be dressed As a lady all for £15, and in her very best; But she never would have ventured to include in her account The lodgings and the breakfasts too for this immense amount. Now life may be a river, as Pactolus was of old, Which brings you lots of water to a minimum of gold, But sometimes it were better, when the water sinks so low That it fails to turn your mill-wheel, if the river ceased to flow. So all day long with urchins three Miss HARKER toiled in chains, And she poured the oil of learning well upon their rusty brains, And she practised them in music, and she polished up their sense With the adverbs and the adjectives, and verbs in mood and tense. And they said, "She's doing nicely, we will give her something more (Not of money, but of labour) ere we show her to the door, Why, we've got two baby children, it is really only fair That Miss HARKER should look after them, and wash and dress the pair. "And, Miss HARKER, it will save us such a lot of trouble too, If, when our servants leave us, they can leave their work to you. So you'll please to cook our dinner, let your motto be _Ich Dien_, (No, no, you needn't thank us) and you'll keep our dishes clean. "And, of course, you'll do it daily--what was that you dared to say? You would like to rest a week or so, and want a holiday? Who ever heard such nonsense? Well, there's one thing we can show, Not politeness, but the door to you--Miss H. you'd better go." So she went, but brought her action, and I'm thankful to relate That when the case was argued she hadn't long to wait. "Costs and judgment for the plaintiff, the defendants' case is fudge, Pay her monthly wage, she's earned it and deserves it," said the Judge. There be Englishmen in England, sleek men, and women too, Who tie their purse-strings tighter than tradition's grasping Jew. What care they for fellow-feeling, who for profit try to lure Fellow creatures to their grindstone for the faces of the poor? And they set some wretched slave to work her fingers to the bone, Then sullenly deny her bread, or give at best a stone; And after she has grubbed and scrubbed, they insolently sneer At one who dares to ask for rest on £15 a-year. * * * * * [Illustration: "IF YOU WANT TO KNOW THE TRUTH, ASK A P'LICEMAN!" _As Sung by the Not-quite-at-Home Secretary in his Unpopular Entertainment._ WHY _DID_ MONRO RESIGN? WAS IT ANY FAULT OF MINE? IF YOU WANT TO KNOW THE TRUTH-- ASK THE P'LICEMAN!] * * * * * "ASK A P'LICEMAN!" MR. M-TTH-WS _sings_:--