But if by situashud goes,
I'b ruid--ad two score!
What cad avail the Doctor's dose--
"The Bixture as Before"?
It bay be Bicrobes, as they say,
This Idfluedza pest;
What batters? I bust cough--ad _pay_!
The Doctor orders "Rest"!
Bicrobes be blowed, ad Rest go hag!
I'll stad this thig do bore!
BARY! was that the door-bell rag?
--"The Bixture as Before"!
* * * * *
THE TRYST.
"It is stated that the Pungwe route to Mashonaland has been
again closed by the Portuguese Authorities."--_Reuter, May
24_.
[Illustration: _Cecil Rhodes_, "YOU CLEAR OUT! SHE'S MY 'MASH!'"]
Now then, young Obstructive, still playing the sentry,
Where nobody wants you to watch or mount guard?
Are _you_ to rule everyone's exit and entry?
Clear out, my young friend, or with you 'twill go hard.
Yon Portuguese _Tappertit_, turn it up, _do_!
D'ye think I'll be stopped by a monkey like you?
_My_ Mash, that young woman! Will you bar our meeting?
We're sweethearts. Will you interfere with our tryst?
You pert whippersnapper, my sable-skinned sweeting
My masculine wooing's too wise to resist.
Shall RHODES be cut out by a small Portuguese,
With a gun and a swagger? Pooh! Fiddle-de-dee!
We've put up too long with your pranks, my fine fellow,
Because of your size, upon which you presume.
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