"Wordy Knife-Grinder, little think the proud ones, Who in their speeches prate about their Union- Ism, what hard work 'tis to keep a Party Tightly together! "Tell me, Knife-Grinder, what _your_ little game is. Do you mean playing straight with me and others? Or would you jocky Erin like a confounded Saxon attorney? "Give us a glimpse of that same Memorandum! Pledge yourself clear to what needs no explaining! Prove that your plan is not quite a sham, sly-whittled Down into nullity! "Ere I depart (if go I must, TIM HEALY) Give me a pledge that I'm not sold for nothing. Tell us in plain round words, without evasion, the _True_ Hawarden story." _Knife-Grinder_. "Story! God bless yer! I have none to tell, Sir! _Never_ tell stories, I; 'tis my sole business This Wheel to turn with treadle and cry, 'Knives and Scissors to grind O!' "Constabulary? Question of Land Purchase? Number of Irish Members due in justice? Never said aught about 'em; don't intend to-- Not for the present. "I shall be glad to do what honour urgeth; Grind on alone, if you will give me _carte-blanche_, Make room for JUSTIN, and forbear to meddle With politics, Sir!" _Friend of Ireland_. "_I_ give thee _carte-blanche?_ I will see thee blowed first-- Fraud! whom no frank appeal can move to frankness-- Sophist, evasive, garrulous, word-web-spinning Subtle Old Spider!!!" [_Kicks the Knife-Grinder, overturns his Wheel, and exit in a fury of patriotic enthusiasm and forcible language._ * * * * * CAPITAL AND LABOUR FORECAST; _OR, SIX OF ONE AND HALF-A-DOZEN OF THE OTHER._