Ribbed as railings and lank as rods, Stark as the toddy trees, Swarming as when from the bursting pods Scatter the ripened peas, Flaming pupil and naked claw, Gaunt and desolate, maimed and raw, Cats by courtesy, but, ye gods! Never were cats like these. Nay, of a verity these be souls Such as in life were vile, Risen again from the nethermost coals To harry the earth a while; Versed in wickedness, old in sin, Never was hell could hold them in, And back they hasten in droves and shoals To desecrate and defile. Here where the shadow of Ancient Lies Falleth athwart the room, Where the Angel of Evil Counsel plies His chariot through the gloom, Where the Lost Endeavours and Faded Hopes Cluster like fruit in the mango-topes, Here is the perfectest paradise For the damned to work their doom. And swear will I by the Cloven Hoof And the name of the Manichees, By the hair that riseth despite reproof And the rebel veins that freeze, That at night, when the graves give up their dead And the thunder belloweth overhead, You would not get me under this roof For a lakh of the best rupees! * * * * * The Magistrate's risen and eke the Sub, And bicycles homeward spin; The clerks depart with a shrill hubbub And the snores of the guard begin; Ah, lock ye the strong-room sure and fast, For the night draws down and the day is past; Masters, I will away to the Club, For the hour of the cats is in. H. B. * * * * * [Illustration: _Batsman._ "I DON'T WANT NONE OF YOUR UNDER'ANDS. BOWL ANOTHER AN' I TAKES THE BAT 'OME--SEE?"] * * * * * OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. (_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._)