The Wallypug in London

VICTORIA! by grace of God our Queen, To thee thy children truest homage pay. Thy children! ay, for Mother thou hast been, And by a mother's love thou holdest sway. Thy greatest empire is thy Nation's heart, And thou hast chosen this the better part. Behold, an off'ring meet thy people bring; Hark! to the mighty world-sound gathering From shore to shore, and echoing o'er the sea, Attend! ye Nations while our paeans ring-- Victoria's children sing her Jubilee.

The grandest sight the world hath ever seen Thy kingdom offers. Clothed in fair array, The Majesty of Love and Peace serene, While hosts unnumbered loyalty display, Striving to show, by every loving art, The day for them can have no counterpart. Lo! sixty years of joy and sorrowing For Queen and People, either borrowing From other sympathy, in woe or glee, Hath knit their hearts to thine, wherefore they sing-- Victoria's children sing her Jubilee.

With royal dignity and gracious mien Thine high position thou hast graced alway; No cloud of discord e'er hath come between Thy nation and thyself; the fierce white ray That beats upon thy throne bids hence depart The faintest slander calumny can dart. Thy fame is dear alike to churl and king, And highest honour lies in honouring The Sovereign to whom we bend the knee; "God save the Queen," one strain unvarying-- Victoria's children sing her Jubilee.

What prophet, or what seer, with vision keen, Reading the message of a far-off day, The wonders of thy reign could have foreseen, Or known the story that shall last for aye? A page that History shall set apart; Peace and Prosperity in port and mart, Honour abroad, and on resistless wing A steady progress ever-conquering. Thy glorious reign, our glorious theme shall be, And gratitude in every heart upspring-- Victoria's children sing her Jubilee.

Behold, ye tyrants, and a lesson glean How subjects may be governed. Lo! the way A Woman teaches who doth ne'er demean Her office high. Hark! how her people pray For blessings on the head that doth impart So wise a rule. For them no wrongs do smart, No cruelties oppress, no insults sting, Nor does a despot hand exaction wring; Though governed, Britain's subjects still are free. Gaze then--ye unwise rulers wondering-- Victoria's children sing her Jubilee.

ENVOY.

Queen Mother, love of thee doth ever spring Within thy children's hearts, a priceless thing, Nor pomp nor state that falleth unto thee Can ever rival this grand carolling-- Victoria's children sing her Jubilee.

G. E. FARROW

[Illustration: PREFACE]

MY DEAR LITTLE FRIENDS,

You will no doubt be surprised to find this book commencing with a perfectly serious poem, and one which probably some of you will find a little difficulty in understanding. When you have grown older, however, and happen to look at this little book again, you will be glad to be reminded of the historic event which the poem commemorates. Now, about ourselves, when I asked in my last book, The Missing Prince, for letters from my little readers, I had no idea that I had so many young friends, and I can hardly tell you how delighted I have been at receiving such a number of kind letters from all parts of the world.

I do hope that I have answered everyone, but really there have been so many, and if by mistake any should have been overlooked, I hope my little correspondents will write again and give me an opportunity of repairing the omission.

Such charming little letters, and all, I am happy to find, really written by the children themselves, which makes them doubly valuable to me.

And how funny and amusing some of them were to be sure! And what capital stories some of you have told me about your pets.