_Prince Giglio's_ bag, the fairy's gift,
Helped him to right the wrong,
Encouraged diligence and thrift,
And "opened with a pong;"
But though its magic powers were great
It could not quite ejaculate
A word so proud and strong
And beautiful as Beeyah-byyah-bunniga-nelliga-jong.
I crave no marble pleasure-dome,
No forks with golden prong;
Like HORACE, in a frugal home
I'd gladly rub along,
Contented with the humblest cot
Or shack or hut, if it had got
A name like Billabong,
Or, better still, like Beeyah-byyah-bunniga-nelliga-jong.
Sweet is the music of the spheres,
Majestic is Mong Blong,
And bland the beverage that cheers,
Called Sirupy Souchong;
But sweeter, more inspiring far
Than tea or peak or tuneful star
I deem it to belong
To such a place as Beeyah-byyah-bunniga-nelliga-jong.
* * * * *
OUR STYLISTS.
"It is the desire of the Management that nothing of an
objectionable character shall appear on the stage or in the
auditorium, and they ask the co-operation of the audience
in suppressing same by apprising them of anything that may
escape their notice.
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