Miss DODGER is still unwell. The HOME SECRETARY has not yet sent
instructions for a special drawing-room to be fitted up in the prison,
nor has he, up till now, given any permission for Miss DODGER's
afternoon receptions, and five o'clock teas. It is generally
considered that the probability of his doing so, without a Special Act
of Parliament, is still very remote.
* * * * *
BROKEN BONDS.
["I learn from St. Petersburg, that, last Saturday,
conferences were begun between Russia and Germany on the
admission of the former to the new commercial treaties."--_The
Times Paris Correspondent on "Russia and the Central
Commercial League."_]
_La Belle France, the Forsaken One, loquitur_:--
What do I hear? Oh, do I hear aright,
Over the garden wall?
My latest love, my gallant Muscovite,
Is this the end, this all?
My heartbeats fast, a mist obscures my sight.
Support me, or I fall!
What can he mean? Whatever is she at?--
Ah! well I know _her_ game!
GERMANIA is a vile coquette, a cat.
Seducing my new flame
With mercenary lures, and low at that!
It is a cruel shame!
But six short months ago and I to him
Indeed seemed all in all.
A stalwart lover, though _tant soit peu_ grim,
I fancied him my thrall.
And was it after all pretence, or whim?
Oh, prospect, to appal!
I know my envious rivals said as much,[1]
But that I deemed their spite,
Was't but my money he desired to clutch?
I lent it--with delight!
Were his mere venal vows? His bonds but such
As SAMSON snapped at sight?
See how she purrs, false puss! She deems her _dot_
May well out-glitter mine.
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