So ta-ta, JOHN. I ain't the least wish to offend you, But plain words to fellers like you is the best. If they'd give me my way, why I'd jolly soon end you, Beard, blather and all; you're no more than a pest. I can fight and take knocks, and I'll stand by my folk, Sir, I'll 'elp them as 'elps me with whatever I earns; But I've this for your pipe, if you're wantin' a smoke, Sir,-- I ain't one for poison, nor yet for JOHN BURNS! * * * * * "MURDER IN JEST."--Is it not an extraordinary plea on behalf of a person under sentence of death for murder, that, like IBSEN's heroine, "she had never been able to take life in earnest?" Surely it should be added that "when she took somebody else's life she did take it very much in earnest." * * * * * POPULAR SONGS RE-SUNG. Writing of the brilliant Boanerges of the Liberal Party, the _Times_ says:--"Sir WILLIAM is the strongest stimulant known to the Gladstonian wire-pullers, and his appearance is always an indication that the vital energies of the patient are low. It is well understood that his proper place is by his own fireside, and that his true function is to evolve epigrams and construct original systems of finance in that calm retreat.... But whenever they feel particularly downcast and unhappy, they break in upon his fecund meditations, and get him to fire off a roystering speech." This affectionate and admiring tribute from the Thunderer to its old favourite contributor "HISTORICUS," is worthy of celebrating in deathless verse. How well a dithyramb on the subject would go to a certain popular tune! As thus:-- NO. VIII.--GET YOUR HARCOURT! AIR--"_Get your Hair Cut_!" 'Twould serve them right if never I came From my own fireside again! The way the "Thunderer" cuts me up Is vixenish--as vain. I was born an Opportunist, In a general sort of way, But it's really very impertinent For the _Times_ to grin and say:-- _Chorus._ "Get your HARCOURT! Get your HARCOURT!" Oh! whenever I'm on spout, You can hear the Tories shout, "Get your HARCOURT! Get your HARCOURT! To cheer you when your spirits are down!" I started in the Buffo line. When things seem getting slack, I'm to the front, with lots of go. My critics may cry "Quack!" But quacking's not confined to _me_. I do extremely well, And the more "I give them physic," why The more they squirm and yell-- _Chorus._ "Get your HARCOURT! Get your HARCOURT!" But they know my sparkling spout-- Will help to turn them out. "Get your HARCOURT! Get your HARCOURT!" But I'll meet them when their sun goes down. To play the great "HISTORICUS" part, I years ago appeared. The Thunderers stage then knew my art, But now _that_ pitch is queered! They swear that I apostatised To follow W.G., And patter about "Parnellite juice," And holloa after me-- _Chorus._