He utters wisdom's latest, greatest word.
All coats, we know, are best when frayed with wear;
Trousers we love when most they need repair,
Boots without heels, completely lacking soles,
And hats all crushed and battered into holes.
Nay, we'll go farther, and, to prove him true,
Do all the vanished ages used to do.
We'll crop the ears of those who preach dissent,
And at the stake teach wretches to repent.
Clad _cap-à-pie_ in mail we'll face our foes,
And arm our British soldiery with bows.
Dirt and disease shall rule us as of yore,
The Plague's grim spectre stalk from shore to shore.
Proceed, brave BALFOUR, whom no flouts appal,
Collect stupidities and do them all.
Uneducate our men, unplough our land,
Bid heathen temples rise on every hand;
Unmake our progress and revoke our laws,
Or stuff them full of all their banished flaws.
Let light die out and brooding darkness reign,
And in a word call Chaos back again.
Then, as we perish, we can shout with glee,
"Hail, hail to BALFOUR and Stupidity!"

* * * * *

SCREWED UP AT MAGDALEN.--Mr. G.B. SHAW had a lively time of it at Oxford.
Fancy a whole bevy of Socialists all cooped up together under lock and
screw. What a fancy-picture of beautiful harmony the mere thought conjures
up. Burning cayenne pepper on one side, dirty water on the other, and loyal