s in rhyme, tragedies in blank verse. Nobody
will print them, or, if anybody prints them, he regrets that he
cannot pay for them. My moral and discursive essays are rejected, my
descriptions of nature do not even get into the newspapers. I have
not been elected by the Sydenham Club (a clique of humbugs); I have
let my hair grow long; I have worn a cloak and a Tyrolese hat, and
attitudinised in the picture-galleries, but nobody asked who I am. I
have endeavoured to hang on to well-known poets and novelists--they
have not welcomed my advances.

My last dodge was a Satire, the _Logrolliad_, in which I lashed the
charlatans and pretenders of the day.

While hoary statesmen scribble in reviews
And guide the doubtful verdict of the Blues,
While HAGGARD scrawls, with blood in lieu of ink,
While MALLOCK teaches Marquises to think,

so long I have rhythmically expressed my design to wield the dripping
scourge of satire. But nobody seems a penny the worse, and I am not a
paragraph the better. Short stories of a startling description fill my
drawers, nobody will venture on one of them. I have closely imitated
every writer who succeeds, but my little barque may attendant sail, it
pursues the triumph, but does not partake the gale.

I am now engaged on a Libretto for an heroic opera.

What offers?

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE IMPERIAL JACK-IN-THE-BOX.

_Chorus_ (_Everybody_). "EVERYTHING IN ORDER EVERYWHERE! O! WHAT A
SURPRISE! SOLD AGAIN!"]

* * * * *

THE IMPERIAL JACK-IN-THE-BOX.

A SONG FOR THE SHOUTING EMPEROR.

AIR--"_THE MAJOR-GENERAL._"

I am the very pattern of a Modern German Emperor,
Omniscient and omnipotent, I ne'er give way to temper, or
If now and then I run a-muck in a Malay-like fashion,
As there's method in my madness, so there's purpose in my passion.
'Tis my aim to manage _everything_ in order categorical--
My fame as Cosmos-maker I intend shall be historical.
I know they call me _Paul Pry_, say I'm fussy and pragmatical--
But that's because sheer moonshine always hates the mathematical.
I'm not content to "play the King" with an imperial pose in it--
Whatever is marked "Private" I shall up and poke my nose in it.

ALL.

_He_ won't let drowsing dogs lie, he'll stir up the tabby sleeping Tom--
In fact, he is the model of a modern German Peeping Tom!

I bounce into the Ball-Room when they think I