_End of the Experiment._--Kitchen garden a wreck! There has been a battle royal between FLASHBOYITES and SMITH JUNIORITES. FLASHBOY stole all the spades, and entrenched himself in an earthwork, which the other side stormed. SMITH JUNIOR bleeding but triumphant. Says "gardening is much better far than _Bradley's Exercises_." Cucumbers (bought as missiles) and potatoes lying all about. Several have got through school-room windows! Letters arrive from parents. Thought they would like the new agricultural departure as teaching their boys something really useful. But they don't. Quite indignant. Say their sons are "not intended for market-gardeners." SMITH JUNIOR'S parent says _his_ boy is "meant for the Church." Didn't know this before. SMITH JUNIOR will be an ornament of the Church Militant at any rate. Drop the gardening, and go back to _Bradley_.
To what snug refuge do I fly When glass is low, and billows high, And goodness knows what fate is nigh?-- My Cabin!
Who soothes me when in sickness' grip, Brings a consolatary "nip," And earns my blessing, and his tip?-- The Steward!
When persons blessed with fancy rich Declare "she" does not roll, or pitch, What say--"The case is hardly sich"?-- My Senses!
What makes me long for _real_ Free Trade, When no Douaniers could invade, Nor keys, when wanted, be mislaid?-- My Luggage!
What force myself, perhaps another, To think (such thoughts we try to smother) "The donkey-engine is our brother"?-- Our Feelings!
And what, besides a wobbling funnel, Screw-throb, oil-smell, unstable gunwale, Converts me to a Channel Tunnel?-- My Crossing!
The strongest always rule the roast. Yes! we believe it fully; So what's the natural result, When COOKE'S opposed by PULLEY? Vain contest--vain the gallant fight! The winner's safely booked, And forty-four good witnesses Affirm the _poulet's_ cooked.
THE SEAL. "THREE MONTHS' CLOSE-TIME! HM! MIGHT HA' MADE IT TWELVE!!"]
Only fancy if the Earth were flat-- As most of those who live upon it are-- And you went too near the edge of it, and toppled from the ledge of it, And landed on a distant star! Only fancy, if you fell upon your feet, And recovered pretty quickly from the jar, And you understood the lingo which the people speak and sing, oh, Who dwell upon a distant star! Only fancy, only fancy, what a lot of things there are Very likely to be met with on a distant star.