Oh, nice little, plump little German boy,

Approaching the Counter of B. & Co.,

You never, most probably, hoped to enjoy

In the way of business—a way you know—

An opportunity half so good

For doing a smart little stroke of trade.

Bull's Shopman, you see, is in generous mood,

As "wonderful bargains" his wares are arrayed,

And treasures,—no wonder you jump with glee!

Are "Given away with a Pound of Tea!"

Do ut des! That's the motto, of course,

The motto of Shop in the Fatherland;

It was laid down by Otto with lucid force,

And Caprivi its bearings doth understand.

But the man at the Counter of John Bull's Stores,

The drift of the doctrine seems hardly to grasp;

So his Teuton customer collars and scores.

He's stolid and 'cute, or he'd stare and gasp

To see the possessions of Mr. John B.

"Given away with a Pound of Tea!"

Pays for 'em? Humph! With a Zanzibar cheque;

Like a "Bank of Elegance" counterfeit note,

Or a draft on oneself; worth a penny a peck.

Such paper as this on the market to float!

Giving you what is yours, or at least is not his,

In exchange for whatever he happens to want,

Is what slangy Sportsmen call "very good biz,"

For him, though for you, Bull, it looks like a "plant,"

Have you any more goods, Bull, you'd like to see

"Given away with a Pound of Tea?"

Kilima Njara, no doubt, was a boon,

To the innocent butterfly-hunting boy.

(Who sups with the—Teuton, should have a long spoon,

For his appetite's eager and dainties don't cloy.)

The Hinterland comes in most handy, no doubt,

And then that nice bonus of Heligoland!

Ah, truly, the Teuton knows what he's about.

But Shopman Salisbury, why should he stand

And advertise goods of his master J. B.

As "Given away with a Pound of Tea?"

What's the next article? Pray, do not shrink

From "giving a name to it," small German boy;

The Shopman so smiles, one might verily think

That "parting's" not "sorrow," but what he'll enjoy.

"Surrender," and "Scuttle," and all the bad terms

Once hurled at "the Shirkers" to roost now return.

Where is the last Jingo? One fancies he squirms

And invokes Ashmead-Bartlett. Could he Jingos spurn,

Do worse—the old Shopman, false W.G.—

Than cry, "Given away with a Pound of Tea?"

Though a bargain's a bargain, and not a bad stroke

When a little good-nature secures a firm friend,

Reciprocity all on one side's a poor joke,

And a bargain that's bad is a bargain to mend.

That German is not yet gone out of the shop,

Recall him a moment—to look at that cheque!

It may not be one that a banker would stop,

But is it "Good Value"? This rede you may reck,

Mr. Shopman, sans shame. 'Tis pure fiddle-dedee

To give too much away with your Pound of Tea!