_Chorus of Partridges_. "LONG MAY IT RAIN!"]

* * * * *

MISLED BY A MANUAL!

(THE LAMENT OF A WOULD-BE LINGUIST.)

When on my Continental tour preparing to depart,
I bought a Conversation-Book, and got it up by heart;
A handy manual it seemed, convenient and neat,
And gave for each contingency a dialogue complete.

Upon the weather--wet _or_ fine--I could at will discourse,
Or bargain for a bonnet, or a boot-jack, or a horse;
Tell dentists, in three languages, which tooth it is that hurts;
Or chide a laundress for the lack of starch upon my shirts.

I landed full of idioms, which I fondly hoped to air--
But crushing disappointment met my efforts everywhere.
The waiters I in fluent French addressed at each hotel
Would answer me in English, and--confound 'em!--spoke it well.

Those phrases I was furnished with, for Germany or France,
I realised, with bitterness, would never have a chance!
I swore that they should hear me yet, and proudly turned my back
On polyglots in swallowtails, and left the beaten track....

They spoke the native language _now_; but--it was too absurd--
Of none of their own idioms they apparently had heard!