O'er Land or Tithe, our hearts were blithe,
Till P-RN-LL sapped our pith.
But "Mr. Fox's" lethal darts
Make "Union" all my eye;
Our ranks they thin (whilst our enemies grin),
As right and left they fly.
Though we cling to the Jaunting Car,
We were better out of it, by far;
Not the G.O.M.'s art
Can those Jarvies part
Who fight for the Jaunting Car.

I rather like this Car, Sir,
With GL-DST-NE by my side;
But row galore is an awful bore.
When two would-be whips collide.
With J-ST-N seated forninst us,
To victory we _might_ haste,
But with squabbling bhoys, and a deuce of a noise,
_Our_ efforts are cut to waste.
Though we're perched on the Jaunting Car,
Our purpose these madmen mar,
Whilst W-LL-M and I,
With a tear and a sigh,
Hold on to the Jaunting Car.

* * * * *

PAR ABOUT PICTURES.--Messrs. J. and W. VOKINS, Great Portland Street,
have an interesting loan collection of some of the Old Giants of the