He has stirred them up pretty well all round already. Good Grandmother GUELPH! Well, with her, 'twas just "come and off!" (A true British "Summer" the wildest will steady), And then he drops in upon tired Cousin ROMANOFF. Ha! ha! How the CZAR must have laughed--in his sleeve-- At that "capture," which WILHELM could scarcely believe!
Taken prisoner, the "Travelling EMPEROR!" Funny! Oh, could they have kept him till Autumn was o'er! No such luck! I must stir up, and spend time, and money, In playing the old game of Soldiers! Great bore! Ah, my youthful, alert, irrepressible KAISER, When just a bit older you'll be a bit wiser.
Voecklabruck's pleasant in genial September, And now I must start for Silesia. Ah me! That name gives a KAISER so much to remember-- Would FREDERICK--THE GREAT--have "waltzed round" with such glee, Trotting out Europe's soldiers and ships in this way? Well, the KAISER's a "kid," I suppose it's his play.
I wonder what BISMARCK the blunt thinks about it. He hardly takes _Kriegspiel_ views of the earth; He _may_ be prepared to applaud, but I doubt it. I fancy him moved to a saturnine mirth. I wonder where next the young ruffler will go. I should like, if I dared, to suggest--Jericho!
"Come out, Cousin HAPSBURG, your uniform don, And let's play at Soldiers!" Ah, yes, that's his voice. How glad Grandma GUELPH must be now he has gone, And how at his leaving the CZAR must rejoice! And now _I_ am in for it all, for awhile. Ah, well, I must dress, and endeavour to smile.
Only _if he_ would off it to Stamboul or Cairo, Look up EMIN PASHA, survey Zanzibar, Or try butterfly hunting at Kilimi Njaro, The Crowned Heads of Europe were easier far. But Africa's "_fauna_ and _flora_" would pall-- _He_ wants armies and fleets, or he can't rest at all.
Silesian manoeuvres! I know what they mean; Long hours in the saddle, much dust, many hails! An elderly Emperor's fancy might lean To idling, or hunting the chamois with WALES. Now, _he_ would not worry--but grumbling's no use, So here's for Schloss Ronnstock, and endless Reviews!
OUR FAILURES.--"One man in his time plays many parts," and JOHN L. SULLIVAN, the great American "Slogger," having lately rather failed, perhaps, as a pugilistic "Champion," has done what Mr. HARRY NICHOLLS's lyric hero so yearned to do, viz., "gone on the Stage." Decline of the Drama, indeed! Recruited from the ranks of the Amateurs, on one side from the "Swells," on the other from the "Sports," the Stage _ought_ to flourish. "Critics," said Dizzy, "are those who have failed in Literature." Will it by-and-by be said that Actors are those who have failed in "Sassiety" and the Prize Ring, as Mashers or as Bashers?