I find
The day so long and drear?
_Lentis adhaerens brachiis_ come
Once more my life to crown;
Without thee 'tis too burdensome.
Come back to Town!

* * * * *

MR. PUNCH'S DICTIONARY OF PHRASES.

AT AN AFTERNOON CALL.

"_So glad to see you at last. Now don't let me interrupt your talk
with Mrs. VEREKER_;" i.e., "If I do, I shall be let in for being
button-holed."

"_Do let me get you some tea--you must be dying for a cup_;" i.e.,
"Know _I_ am."

"_So sorry_--_I fear everything is cold. Do let me have some fresh tea
made for you_;" i.e., "He can't accept _that_ offer."

IN A NON-SMOKING CARRIAGE.

"_You don't mind my cigar, do you?_" i.e., "I know he does, but I'm
not going to waste it."

(_Reply to the above query._)

"_Oh, not at all!_" i.e., "Beastly thing! If he wasn't so confoundedly
selfish and stingy, he'd throw it away."

* * * * *

"I'M AFLOAT!"

(NEWCASTLE-ON-TYNE VERSION.)

[Illustration]

I'm afloat, I'm afloat on the coaly black Tyne!
The draft licence sent me I begged to decline;
Though other chaps had 'em, they were not for me;
I prefer a free flag, on the strictest Q.T.
A sly "floating factory" thus I set up
(I'm a mixture of RUPERT the Rover and KRUPP).
At Jarrow Slake moored, my trim wherry or boat
I rejoiced in, and sung "I'm afloat! I'm afloat!"
For quick-firing guns ammunition I made,
Engaging (says FORD) in the contraband trade.
An inquest _was_ held, but its verdict cleared _me_.
I'm afloat, I'm afloat, and the Rover is free!

I fear not the Government, heed not its law.
Much rumpus is made, we shall hear lots of jaw:
An explosion took place on October the third,
My sly "floating factory" blew up like a bird.
It killed one poor fellow, and damaged a lot,
But I am a Great Gun, and got off like a shot;
Indeed all were well, but for cold Colonel FORD,
Who blames _me_, the Rover! Too bad, on my word!
The Pirate of Elswick shall not be the sport
of a fussy Commission's ill-tempered Report.
To bring me to book is all fiddlededee--
I'm afloat, I'm afloat, and the Rover is free!

I contraband, careless? Why, everyone owns
_That_ is natural, 'neath the black flag and cross-bones.
No mere paltry maker of fireworks am I,
But a Rover who's free, whose sole roof is the sky.
The law of the land may the petty appal.
But fright