The Humourous Poetry of the English Language

463
JONES. Oh! nothing. I was only going to say--
Good morning.
SMITH.Oh! and so was I. Good-day.
[Both shake hands, and are going off in opposite directions,
when Smith turns round. Jones turning round at the same
time they both return and look at each other.
JONES. I thought you wished to speak, by looking back.
BROWN. Oh no. I thought the same.
BOTH TOGETHER.Good-by! Good-by!
[Exeunt finally; and the conversation and the curtain drop
together.
PROCLIVIOR.
(A slight Variation on LONGFELLOW'S "EXCELSIOR.")
PUNCH.
The shades of night were falling fast,
As tow'rd the Haymarket there pass'd
A youth, whose look told in a trice
That his taste chose the queer device--
PROCLIVIOR!
His hat, a wide-awake; beneath
He tapp'd a cane against his teeth;
His eye was bloodshot, and there rung,
Midst scraps of slang, in unknown tongue,
PROCLIVIOR!
In calm first-floors he saw the light
Of circles cosy for the night;
But far ahead the gas-lamps glow;
He turn'd his head, and murmur'd "Slow,"
PROCLIVIOR!