will take the book-stall
once a week regularly, there being Saturday sittings throughout the
year. _The Speaker_ will, of course, be on the side of Law and "Order!
Order!"

* * * * *

A BALLAD OF EVIL SPEED.

_A Cool Collation of Several Bards._

I would I had not met you, Sweet,
I wish you had been far away
From where, in Upper Wimpole Street,
We two foregather'd yesterday.
Somewhere in that unlovely street
Summer's lost beauty, hid away,
Woke at the music of your feet,
And sought the little girl in grey.
Around your head the sunbeams play--
Home to the depths of your deep eyes
Soft shadows of the woodland stray,
Then sparkle with a quick surprise,
As when the branch-entangled skies
Shake from the depths of woodland stream,
Awhile in laughing circles gleam,
Then spread to heaven's peace again.
Amber and gold, and feathery grey,
You suited well the Autumn day,
The muffled sun, the misty air,
The weather like a sleepy pear.
And yet I wish that you had been
Afar, beside the sounding main,
Or swaying daintily the rein
Of mettled courser on the green,
So I had passed, and passed unseen.

For I arose, from dreams of thee,
So late that morn, my matin tea
Was cold as mutton two days cooked;
As in the looking-glass I looked,
Methought the razor need not wreak
Its wonted vengeance on my cheek,
Nor clear the shadow from my chin
Till to the City I had been.
Thus, horrid with a nascent beard,
By chance through Wimpole Street I steered,
Trusting therein to shun contempt
Of who abhor a man unkempt.
For like a mother-bird, who's caught
The cant of modern woman's thought,
My restless tie refused to sit,
And restless fingers vainly sought
To soothe the silkworm's stubborn toil.
But only did its candour soil,
And suffered none the less from it.
For all my neck, and head no less,
Owned to a vague unquietness,
As when the vagrant spiderlet
Has spread at large her filmy net
To catch the moonbeams, wavering white,
At the front gate on Autumn night.

Then suddenly the sombre way
Rock'd like the darkness struck by day,
The endless houses reel'd from sight,
And all romance and all delight
Came thronging in a glorious crowd.
So, when the drums are beating loud,
The mob comes sweeping down the Mall,
Far heralding the bear-skins tall.
Glorious in golde