(_AN APPEAL FROM THE KNIFE-BOARD OF A CITY OMNIBUS._)

[The latest complaint of "the Ladies" is that they are being
"smoked off" the tops of the omnibuses.]

[Illustration]

The "knife-board," sacred once to broad male feet,
The "Happy Garden Seat,"
Invaded now by the non-smoking sex,
Virginal scruples vex,
And matronly anathemas assail.
Alas! and what avail
Man's immunities of time or place?
The sweet she-creatures chase
From all old coigns of vantage harried man.
In vain, how vain to ban
Beauty from billiard-room or--Morning Bus
What use to fume or fuss?
And yet, and yet indeed it is no joke!
Where _shall_ one get a smoke
Without annoying Shes with our cheroots,
And being badged as "brutes"?
If a poor fellow may not snatch a whiff
(Without the feminine sniff)
Upon the "Bus-roof," where in thunder's name
_Shall_ he draw that same!
The ladies, climb, sit, suffocate, and scoff,
Declare _they_ are "smoked off,"
Is there no room inside? If smoke means Hades,