V.

“Now tell us what ’twas all about,” His grandson then he cries, While near his little sister stood, With wonder-waiting eyes; “Now, tell us all about this Poll; What means this word so queer and droll?”

“The Liberals ’twas” said STONE, “who put The Tory host to rout; But how this same thing came to pass I cannot well make out; But all the same for us,” said he, “It is a _virtual_ victory!”

“I show’d my face amid the crowd, The polling booth hard by; Hired ruffians chaff’d and hooted me, And I was forced to fly; So, as was best, I quickly fled, And here I rest my weary head.”

“All false reports and tales we spread, And slander far and wide; Intimidation, threats, rewards,―― Each Tory dodge we tried; Such things in politics must be, E’en for a _virtual_ victory!”

Bad luck! a drizzling rain came down, The day had else been won; Our band of Tory lambs it drench’d, And spoilt their promis’d fun; The Liberals to vote were free, And gain’d a famous victory!”

“Great praise our BURNABY he won, And CALTHORPE by his side,” “Why, twas a very foolish thing!” The little girl then cried. “Nay,――nay,――my little girl,” quoth he, “They gain’d a _virtual_ victory!”