rned his loss,
I knew that _you_ were here.

You've gone to heaven, if that's where
The good giraffes all go.
I wonder if you'll ever see
What happens down below.
I hope, for your own comfort, not,
But, if you ever do,
Please recognise me as the Man
Who sadly haunts the Zoo.

* * * * *

THE POET AND THE SONGS.

[Illustration]

I HAD a thought, a dainty thought,
A quaint and cunning fancy,
I said, "A theme with humour fraught
Within my grasp I can see.
This thought will work into a set
Of verses fit for singing."
A voice rasped, "Oh, a deal o' wet!"
And off that thought went winging.

And once again that thought returned,
With yet more brightness on it--
This time with the desire I burned
To weave it in a sonnet.
I'd get an artist chum to do
The subject in a rare cut.
Alas! before 'twas grasped it flew,
Alarmed by, "Git yer 'air cut!"

I strayed in silent solitude
That lost thought to recover,
And, as my journey I pursued,
'Twould still around me hover.
Almost I grasped, one fatal day,
That fancy, quaint and clever,
A cad shrieked, "Tara-boom-de-ay!"
And off it flew--for ever!

* * * * *

SUNDAY OBSERVANCE.

[Illustration]

WHAT a shocking state of things,
Oh, my goodness, Mrs. GRUNDY!
There's a man that plays and sings
In a Blackpool hall on Sunday!

Oh, what wickedness, oh, dear!
Sunday music! What a scandal!
Folks might even go and hear
Things by HAYDN or by HANDEL!

Rush and find some obsolete
Act of wise and pious GEORGES,
Which will help us to defeat
Such abominable orgies!

But here's worse news, I declare;
Gracious patience, Mrs. GRUNDY!
Eastbourne people cannot bear
Nice Salvation bands on Sunday!

Acts, not words, again we need,
Just to show them they are silly.
Sunday Music stopped? Indeed,
They _must_ like it, willy nilly!

* * * * *

THEATRES AND MUSIC HALLS COMMISSION.

(_A Matinee, by Our Own Reporter._)

[Illustration]

IN reply to Mr. WOODALL, Mr. J.L. TOOLE said he was happy to come there.
_Name is JOHN LAWRENCE TOOLE_? Yes. "JACK with my familiars,"--hem!--
SHAKSPEARE. Being in Witness-box,--JACK in the Box. _What he would take_?
Nothing, thanks, not even his oath. He was quite prepared to kiss the
book-