who did battle wage
Against them, are removed and in their place
Incompetents installed. Indeed, their stings
Convincing plea do ever make that we
Should quick return to paths trodden before
And wage crusade against the swarming pests
Until their songs are legends of the past.

SIR WINDBAG:
But hold, sweet Francos: did not God design
That e'en the insect should his life enjoy?
Indeed, his joyous song of gratitude
Doth only cease that he may puncture make
To meet requirements which God hath ordained.
Hence it were well to nature's laws obey,
For e'en this insect, as it wings its way,
Hath fond desire, and "_knows just what it wants_."

FRANCOS, SIR HIGGS and HENMART (_in concert:_)
Oh Rats! Rats!! Rats!!!

[Illustration]

A COUNCIL OF WAR

Dramatis Personae

_Francos_ . . . . . _High Cockalorum._
_Sir Henmart_ . . . _Vice Cockalorum._
_Sir Higgs_ . . . . _Councillor._
_Sir Windbag_ . . . _Councillor._
_Col. Toady_ . . . _Grand Enumerator._

_Scene: Executive Chamber._

FRANCOS:
Ah! woe is me, my gentle councillors.
Again has treason shown its slimy head;
And from its source, I fear me, it doth bode
But ill to us, who God's anointed are.
If pedagogues may raise disdainful voice
And gross abuse on the elect bestow
Can safety from vituperation vile
From out this rotten mob be e'er assured?

SIR HENMART:
Good Francos, as this matter emanates
From out the sphere of my prerogative,
I feel a special sorrow doth becloud
The sunny pathway which I late have trod.
I find it difficult to blaze my way;
The competent among my teaching corps
Are those who dare opinions firm to form;
If loyalty alone shall be test,
'Twill leave us but a small unthinking host,
And then efficiency will find its grave
Within the tomb of our official rage.

SIR WINDBAG:
But Caesar grieveth that his mighty star,
Which in the human firmament doth shine
So brightly that it lighteth up the world,
Should be bespattered by this inky mud.

COL. TOADY:
Ah, it were sacrilege to thus