The Bee's Bayonet (a Little Honey and a Little Sting)

Were firing this 'ell 'ole with bullet and shell.

'Twas 'ere that me Sandy broke out thru a window,
Disguised as a Rajah, with turban and sword;
And so, quite unnoticed (they thought him a Indoo!)
'E soon joined the ranks of the mutinous 'orde.

And then 'e 'arrangued 'em ('e knew all their jargon!)
And urged 'em to scatter and uphold the law;
But 'ere 'e was thru 'e was sick of 'is bargain
When a bloody bomb-bullet 'alf shattered 'is jaw.

So Sandy's back 'ome, but his features are altered:
What a close shave 'e 'ad! 'is face is a sight!
But when duty called 'e was there and ne'er faltered:
With toot, shoot or Hoot, Mon! 'e mixed in the fight.

'Is goatee is gone, with the chin where 'e grew it:
'E was once very bonnie when 'e was a lad;
And 'is bagpipe would charm me: my, 'ow 'e blew it!
When 'e marched with 'is squad, a playing like mad.

And I makes o'er 'im still, tho Sandy's not pretty,
But a 'ero 'e is in Northlands and South:
A gude wife I've been, tho I think it a pity
That Sandy was given to shoot off 'is mouth.

"BEN BOLT"

Ben Franklin was a Jester of the sort
That fused, with wit, rare wisdom in retort;
And, on his mettle, tempered by a smile
His irony could hold them all awhile.
King Louis' Court to impotence made plea
Before the onslaughts of his repartee.
His well-aimed jibes were quite as hard to dodge
As meteors agleam with persiflage.
His oily tongue worked on a swinging swivel,
For he spat out his thoughts and didn't drivel.
The Quakers, in his absence, had attacks
Of blues, because they missed his almanacs;
And Frenchmen soon began to understand
And praise his jokes (in England contraband).
He said to Louis, "Sire, the skies are down;
I wouldn't give a Fillip for your crown."
And added, "Nay, I wouldn't give a sou!
There's just one Philip, but sixteen of you!"
He had no fear, you see, of raining Kings,
And, with umbrella raised, enjoyed his flings.
Such pointed puns disfavor oft beget,
But Louis laughed and so did Lafayette.
Tho galley slave, like creatures of his type,
He broke his chains, when Freedom's plans were ripe,
And put the U. S. A. upon the chart,
Allied to France, thru diplomatic art.
To-day Ben Bolt, who clipped the lion's claws,
For lightning work gets thunderous applause.
The thunderbolts obeyed at his command,
And currents, insubordinate, were canned.
He kept the Upper Regions on the string
And shocked the Lower World like everything.
All praise to Franklin, Diplomatic Star!
He went where he was sent, but not too far:
And tho he flew his mortal kite so high,
Poor Richard's name illuminates the sky.

EXCELSIOR

The bale consigned to O. U. Crook,
Upholsterer—marked, USE NO HOOK,
Was not curled hair or even moss,
Nor yet a mixture or a cross,
Excelsior!

"This Davenport was made to wear;
Fine leather and best camel hair!"
Said Crook (a patent skin all right,
But all the "hair" was out of sight).
Excelsior!

And so Crook sold the lounge or couch
To some poor Boob with gold-filled pouch;
And also sold an easy chair
(The Easy Mark was stuffed for fair.)
Excelsior!

And thus he plied his artful trade
(A better Craftsman ne'er was made)
Until the shavings, dyed and curled,
Resembled hair for all the world.
Excelsior!

O, baleful occupation his!
The way he made his mattresses
Would make a lounging layman sick.
He sold for cash and gave no tick tick—
Excelsior!

A mark-down sale Crook staged in time—
"Such bed-rock prices are a crime,"