Smite, smite like flail upon garnered grain,
These things of bestial birth!

* * * * *

OLD DOGGEREL RE-DRESSED.

(_AFTER READING CERTAIN CRITICISMS ON CERTAIN NOVELISTS, CERTAIN
COMMENTS ON THOSE CRITICISMS, AND CERTAIN REJOINDERS TO THOSE
COMMENTS_.)

Little novelists have little critics,
Like little gnats, to bite 'em;
Those little critics have lesser critics,
And so _ad infinitum_!

* * * * *

LINES BY A LEWISHAM WITLER.

The PENN is mightier than the sword--
Of any Red-Rad whipster.
I _said_ he'd win--doubted _my_ word;
But I'm the O.K. tipster.
Rads roughed on me and called me "Bung;"
I've bunged them up--a corker--
At the result their heads they hung.
_They_ whip the Witler? Walker!
We're the PENN-holders. For their man
That One-Six-Nine-Three nicked him,