But who're like to secure--as you phrase it--"the spoil."
Yes, these be the birds most _en évidence_ now;
And by Jingo, my JOE, they _are_ raising a row.
They're full of cacophonous fuss, and loud spite;
And they don't take their licking as well as they might.
In fact, they're a rather contemptible crew;
And--well, of which species, dear JOSEPH, are _you_?

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE BEWILDERED TOURIST AND THE RIVAL SIRENS.

(_A LONG WAY AFTER TENNYSON'S "THE DESERTED HOUSE_.")

"_June and July have passed away,_
_Like a tide._
_Doors are open, windows wide._
_Why in stuffy London stay?_"
Sing the Sirens (slyboots they!)
With a Tennysonian twang,
To the Tourist,
(Not the poorest
You may bet your bottom dollar,
Which those Sirens aim to "collar."
_Demoiselles_, excuse the slang!)

"All within is dark as night,
In Town's windows is no light,
And no caller at your door,
Swell or beggar, chum or bore!