The advertising quack who wearies With tales of countless cures, His teeth, I've enacted, Shall all be extracted By terrified amateurs: The music-hall singer attends a series Of masses and fugues and "ops" By Bach, interwoven With Spohr and Beethoven, At classical Monday Pops: The billiard sharp whom any one catches, His doom's extremely hard-- He's made to dwell In a dungeon cell On a spot that's always barred; And there he plays extravagant matches In fitless finger-stalls, On a cloth untrue, With a twisted cue And elliptical billiard balls! My object all sublime I shall achieve in time-- To let the punishment fit the crime-- The punishment fit the crime; And make each prisoner pent Unwillingly represent A source of innocent merriment, Of innocent merriment! [Illustration] THE HAUGHTY ACTOR An actor--GIBBS, of Drury Lane-- Of very decent station, Once happened in a part to gain Excessive approbation; It sometimes turns a fellow's brain And makes him singularly vain When he believes that he receives Tremendous approbation. His great success half drove him mad, But no one seemed to mind him; Well, in another piece he had Another part assigned him. This part was smaller, by a bit, Than that in which he made a hit. So, much ill-used, he straight refused To play the part assigned him. * * * * * _That night that actor slept, and I'll attempt To tell you of the vivid dream he dreamt:_ THE DREAM In fighting with a robber band (A thing he loved sincerely) A sword struck GIBBS upon the hand And wounded it severely. At first he didn't heed it much, He thought it was a simple touch, But soon he found the weapon's bound Had wounded him severely. To Surgeon COBB he made a trip, Who'd just effected featly An amputation at the hip Particularly neatly. A rising man was Surgeon COBB, But this extremely ticklish job He had achieved (as he believed) Particularly neatly. The actor rang the surgeon's bell. "Observe my wounded finger: Be good enough to strap it well, And prithee do not linger, That I, dear sir, may fill again The Theatre Royal, Drury Lane This very night I have to fight-- So prithee do not linger." "I don't strap fingers up for doles," Replied the haughty surgeon; "To use your cant, I don't play _rôles_ 'Utility' that verge on. 'First amputation'--nothing less-- That is my line of business: We surgeon nobs despise all jobs Utility that verge on.