Song says all
is equal to--
"High and low on the King's highway."
Experience teaches that a sober citizen traversing the highway
unfavourably known as the Kingsland Road, is liable to be tripped
up, robbed and thumped senseless by organised gangs of Kingsland
roughs. It seems doubtful whether Neapolitan banditti or Australian
bush-whackers are much worse than these Cockney ruffians, these
vulgar, vicious and villanous "Knights of the (Kingsland) Road." Is it
not high time that the local authorities--and the local police--looked
to this particular "highway," which seems so much more like a "byway"
not to say a "by-word and a reproach" to a city suburb?
* * * * *
A CASE FOR THE SURGEONS.--Mrs. Ramsbotham, who has a great respect
for the attainments of Members of the Medical profession, cannot
understand why Army Doctors should be called "non-competents."
* * * * *
THE MODERN MILKMAID'S SONG.
(AT THE DAIRY SHOW.)
_AN EXTRACT FROM THE "COMPLETE ANGLER" OF THE FUTURE._
_Piscator_, MAUDLIN, I pray you, do us the courtesy to sing a song
concerning your late visit to London.
MAUDLIN _sings_:--
Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That come in competition's field
From reckoning up the Shorthorn's "yield."
To Town we'll come in modish frocks,
Where swells appraise our herds and flocks,
By days "in profit" great or small,
All in the Agricultural Hall.
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