But Louis frothed at mouth with rage, Like one that was insane, And said he'd make Bill promise him He'd not offend again.

"I'd promise no such thing," says Mark, "For that would hurt your pride, Sing on and read your testament, Dame Europe's on your side."

"If I'd to promise aught like that, 'Twould be against my mind; So take it right or take it wrong, I'll promise naught o' t'kind."

"Then I shall take and wallop thee Unless thou cuts thy stick; And drive thee to thy fatherland Before another week."

"Come on," cried Sanctimonius, And sending out his arm He caught poor Louis on the nose, Then sung another psalm.

But Louis soon was on his pins, And used his fists a bit, But he was fairly out of breath, And seldom ever hit.

And at the end of round the first, He got it fearful hot, This was his baptism of fire If we mistake it not.

So Willie sent a letter home To mother old Augusta, Telling her he'd thrashed poor Loo, And given him such a duster.

"What wonderful events," says he, "Has heaven brought about, I'll fight the greatest pugilist That ever was brought out.

And if by divine Providence I get safe through this row, Then I will sing 'My G.o.d, the spring From whom all blessings flow.'"

Meanwhile the other Monitors, Were standing looking on, But none of them dare speak a word, But all stared straight at John.

"Ought not I to interfere?"

Says Johnny to the rest; But he was told by every one Neutrality was best.

"Neutral," growl'd John, "I hate the word, 'Tis poison to my ear; It's another word for cowardice, And makes me fit to swear.

"At any rate I can do this, My mind I will not mask, I'll give poor Loo a little drop Out of my brandy flask.

"And give it up, poor Loo, my lad, You might as well give in, You know that I have got no power; Besides, you did begin."

Then Louis rose, and looked at John, And spoke of days gone by When he would not have seen his friend Have blackened Johnny's eye.

"And as for giving in, friend John, I'll do nothing of the sort; Do you think I'll be a laughing-stock For everybody's sport."

This conversation that took place Made pious Willie grin, And tell John Bull to hold his noise, 'Twas nought to do with him.

These words to John did make him stare, And finding to his shame, That those were worse who did look on, Than those who played the game.

Now Mrs. Europe knew the facts Which had been going on, And with her usual dignity, These words addressed to John:

"Now, Mr. Bull, pray answer me,- Why are you gaping here?

You are my famous deputy, Then why not interfere?"

"Why," answered John, and made a bow, But yet was very shy, "I was told to be a neutral, ma'am, And that's the reason why."

"That's just what you should not have done, Being in authority; Did I not place you in that bunk To think and act for me?

"Why any baby in the house Could not have done much worse, But I fancy you've been holding back To save your private purse.

"Neutrality is as fine a word As ever a coward used, The honour that I gave to you You shouldn't have abused."

The minor lodgers in the house, On hearing this, to John, Began to whisper and to laugh, And call'd it famous fun.

At last a little urchin said, "Please ma'am I'd take my oath, 'At master John was neutral, And stuck up for them both."

"Stuck up for both, offended both,- Yes that is what you mean?"

Continued Madame Europe, Then spoke to John again:

"Now I'll tell you what it is, John, We've long watch'd your career, You take your f.a.gs' advice to save Your paltry sums a year.

"There's Bob and Bill, besides some more, That I call naught but sc.u.ms, They've got you fairly in between Their fingers and their thumbs.

"If such like men as Ben and Hugh This day your f.a.gs had been, They would have saved both you and me This curs'd disgraceful scene.

"Instead of bein' half-clad and shod, As everybody knows, You would have dared these rivals now To come to such like blows.

"There was a time in this house, John, If you put up your thumb, The greatest blackguard tongue would stop As if they had been dumb.

"But not a one in this here house This moment cares a fig For all you say or all you do, Although your purse be big."

"I couldn't hurt poor Louis, ma'am, Although he did begin; And then you see that Will and I Are very near akin.

"Beside, you see," said John again, "I let poor Louis sup; On both I use my ointment, and Their wounds I did bind up.

"Ah! weel a day," then said the Dame, But was affected sore, "I see you have some small excuse That you have done it for.

"I have some little hopes left yet That you may yet have sense, To know your high position, John, Instead of saving pence.

"You yet will learn that duty, sir, Cannot be ignored, However disagreeable when Placed before the board.

"And let me tell you he who shirks The responsibility Of seeing right, is doing wrong, And earns humility.

"And 'tis an empty-headed dream, To boast of skill and power, But dare not even interfere At this important hour.

"Better far confess at once You're not fit for your place, Than have a name 'Heroic,' sir, Branded with disgrace.

"But I'll not say another word; My deputies, to you; But hope you will a warning take, This moment from poor Loo.

"And hoping, John, your enemies May never have the chance To see you paid for watching Will Thrash poor weak Louis France."

[Picture: Decorative picture of plant]

Charmin' Rebecca o' Riddlesden Hall.

On Aire's bonny benks wi' her meadows so green, There's an ancient owd hall to-day may be seen, That wor built in the days of some owd feudal king, Of whom the owd bards delighted to sing.