IN TOWN.

Toiling in Town now is “horrid,” ( There is that woman again! ) — June in the zenith is torrid, Thought gets dry in the brain.

There is that woman again: “Strawberries! fourpence a pottle!” Thought gets dry in the brain; Ink gets dry in the bottle.

“Strawberries! fourpence a pottle!” Oh for the green of a lane!— Ink gets dry in the bottle; “Buzz” goes a fly in the pane!

Oh for the green of a lane, Where one might lie and be lazy! “Buzz” goes a fly in the pane; Bluebottles drive me crazy!

Where one might lie and be lazy, Careless of Town and all in it!— Bluebottles drive me crazy: I shall go mad in a minute!

Careless of Town and all in it, With some one to soothe and to still you;— I shall go mad in a minute; Bluebottle, then I shall kill you!

With some one to soothe and to still you, As only one's feminine kin do,— Bluebottle, then I shall kill you: There now! I've broken the window!

As only one's feminine kin do,— Some muslin-clad Mabel or May!— There now! I've broken the window! Bluebottle's off and away!

Some muslin-clad Mabel or May, To dash one with eau de Cologne;— Bluebottle's off and away; And why should I stay here alone!

To dash one with eau de Cologne, All over one's eminent forehead;— And why should I stay here alone! Toiling in Town now is “horrid.”