My Lads, lend ear! There's a yarn to spin on an old but honest text.

When round our cliffs and our headlands hoar our winter seas are vext, When the waves are lashed by the wind- flouts wild that come with the condor sweep Of their hurrying wings like harpy-flights that prey on the troubled deep: And perchance some souls of a softer strain may feel some tenderer thrill.

Well, Gentlemen, neither cheers nor sneers will the Life-boat coffers fill.

The time of tempest is on us now, 'tis the hour for succour steady; The Life-boat Man at his post is found— British Public are you ' Ready '? READY! A BUSINESS-LIKE BALLAD From Punch, February 10th, 1883 Reproduced by kind permission of the proprietors of PUNCH. (The stanzas quoted are the first and last of eleven}.