THE SECRETARY OF THE IRISH ULSTERICAL BRIGADE.
DEAR SIR,--I believe some were foolish enough to imagine that South Worcestershire men were going to abandon their COLLINGS to follow Home Rule. But, as I knew, it _could_ not be, and it was not. The agricultural labourer knows his friend when he sees him; and Colonel LONG is M.P. to-day because of the unceasing efforts of the Labourers' Friend,
DEAR SIR,--It is very good of you to ask me my opinion. I think that the Evesham contest ended in the way it did because of (_a_) the Register, (_b_) the Floods, (_c_) the Out Voters, and (_d_) the Independent Labour Party. The connection with the last named may not be obvious. In point of fact, it isn't. But, as a true Liberal, I feel bound to allege it.
DEAR SIR,--I gladly find time to answer the question,--"How did I win Evesham?" I won it because, whilst my opponent got only 3,585 votes, I polled 4,760. As 3,585 is, even to the naked eye, distinctly less than 4,760, I was declared elected. In my humble judgment--though I freely admit that I am an interested party--the Returning Officer took the only course that was open to him.
DERBY, dear, I am old and grey, Fifteen years since our wedding day! Shadow and shine for every one, As the years roll on. DERBY, dear, 'tis in vain they try To chill your heart, or to lure your eye. Ah! dear, we stick, now as then, The tenderest wife to the best of men. Always the same, DERBY my own. Always the same to your old Wife JOAN!
DERBY, dear, but I did feel riled When the Party on PRIMROSE smiled Until men whispered, the young Scotch lord, Has he greatly scored? DERBY, dear, I to Malwood went, My ain fireside, with a heart content. Ah! dear! though the Cause look queer, I feel so much better when you I'm near. Always the same, DERBY my own, Always the same to your old Wife, JOAN
Hand-in-hand we still go to-day, Hand-in-hand, spite what JOE can say. There comes a chance for every one, As the years roll on. Hand-in-hand, though the _Times_ may sneer. (Once to its columns my pen was dear.) Ah! dear! I'm sure of you, Though Scots go wrong, or the Welsh look blue. Always the same, DERBY my own, Always the same to your old Wife, JOAN! _Always_ the same to devoted JOAN!