inmates of this institution." Very hard on these inmates, as, previous to
the ceremony there might have been some hope of their recovery; but now
they have become "confirmed idiots."

* * * * *

ODE TO A GIRAFFE.

(_On hearing that the Solitary Specimen at the Zoo had just died._)

[Illustration]

So Death has paid the Zoo a call,
And claimed you for his own,
Who "neck or nothing" had been left
To bloom--and die--alone.
From far I gazed into your face,
I did not know your name,
You looked uncomfortable, but
I loved you all the same.

Your neck _was_ just a trifle long,
I think you must confess.
I've often thought if, as a fact,
You could have done with less.
But we must take you all in all,
And so I hear with pain
That probably we shall not look
Upon your like again.