If you would keep your fair companion satisfied and cheery, some
Provision must be made to fill the intervals so wearisome,
For many a gallant fellow has discovered with a shock o' late
That after 8 P.M. it's still a crime to sell a chocolate.
Though you may haunt the bar till ten and confidently mutter "Scotch,"
_She_ may not even clamour for a humble slab of butterscotch,
And should the heat suggest an ice--may I be rolled out flat if I
Distort the truth--it's courting gaol that harmless wish to gratify.
As for yourself, if you should yearn for blest tobacco's medium
In those long waits between the Acts to while away the tedium,
And find you're out of cigarettes, remember that to sell any
A minute past the fatal hour is counted as a felony.
Unless the pair of you affect the life ascetic, you'll
Be well advised to carry in a hamper or a reticule
A goodly store of provender, both smokeable and eatable,
For Dora's in the saddle yet and seemingly unseatable.
* * * * *
BROODY.
"Will the Imperial Government hen proceed to a new conquest of Southern
Ireland?"--_Daily Paper._
No, we expect it will be left sitting.
* * * * *
"HIDDEN MUMMIES.
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