MRS. BROWN AND THE WINTER.

I'm sure it's a wonder as I'm alive to tell it, for of all the winters as ever I remembers it certainly 'as beat 'em. Not as I can recolleet. that one as froze up even the Rooshuns theirselves, as all perished in a single night through a-settin' fire to their own place for to spite Boxx PART, and the Thames froze over with a bullock roasted whole all over the place, as is shameful waste I've heard say, though never see it myself, as must smell fearful I should say, with all the fat in the fire, as the sayin' isa. But certingly shall never forget that frost when the Royal Exchange were burnt to ashes, and Mrs. MUDFORD's uncle, as were one of them beadles as did used to stand in a cocked 'at, took to 'is bed through the chill as that fire give 'im, and never was the same man agin, asad a chime of bells as played beautiful all the time it were a-burnin', and struck up the Old 'Undredth to the very last, as I well remembers a-hearin' myself in spendin' the day on Cornhill with a party as was a old friend of my dear mother's, and took care of offices and never went out of that place for a holiday not for forty year, as lived over seventy, and shows as fresh air can't be no use for the 'ealth But law bless you, that was a flea-bite to last winter, and, as I was a-sayin', it's a wonder as ever I lived through it, that it is, for I took cold Christmas Eve as is a unlucky day for a cold to set in, and I knowed as I should, all through that gal a-goin' out on a errand and a-forgettin' the key, and me a-goin' to the door to let 'er in all of a 'eat through bein' busy in the kitchen.

I didn't feel the thing not the last day of the old year, and says to BROWN as I'd rather not go out through 'avin' promised to drink tea along with 'is sister, as 'as been in Indy and only come 'ome in November with two as sickly children as ever I set eyes on, as is comfortable off through a pension, but a deal too genteel for me, a-givin' only a cup of tea and a bit of thin bread-and-butter as tasted of the knife, and the butter salt and rayther rancid, and a sandwich for supper, and 'er gals a-showin' off on the pianer, as is all werry well now, but won't never do when 'er 'ouse is full of lodgers as 'as took a 'ouse down Camberwell way for to let lodgin's..

I didn't feel well when I left 'ome, and says to the gal for to 'ave some bilin' water, a-thinkin' as I'd put my feet in 'ot water with a 'andful of mustard, as will draw the cold out, not as I 'olds much with them bilin' water ways. We come away quite early from MRS. TAPWELL's, as is BROWN's sister, for I was precious sick of all that rubbish, and BROWN a-getting cross at 'er foolishness a-talking of 'er daughters marryin' gentlemen. As the eldest ain't but just sixteen, and a poor mealy thing as ever you see; and as to the young one, she's a object, So as we wasn't werry jolly, I said as I'd got a bad cold and would rather go, and go we did.

It was a-sleetin' fast as we came out of Mas. TAPWELL'S, 80 BROWN he got a cab and 'ome we went, and who should we find a-sittin' waitin' for us but MR. and MRS. LUKEIN, as is the oldest friends as BROWN 'ave got, and 'ad stopped through the gal a-sayin' as we should be in early for certain.

I was glad to see MRS. LUKEIN, and set to work for to get 'em some supper, as was a cold meat pie and some of the plum pudding fried, and a bit of toasted cheese, as did werry well at a pinch, and arter supper we 'ad a drop of 'ot punch for to drink the old year out and the new year in, and BROWN would open the winder for to 'ear the bells a-ringin', as give me a chill on the chest as a drop more 'ot punch didn't seem for to carry off through it bein' a piercin' cold night and the snow a-fallin'. So I says to MRS. LUKEIN as she'd better stop all night through, the spare bed bein' ready, as she was that dead-beat as she agreed to, 'avin' left word where they was a-stayin' not to set up for 'em arter eleven, as is reasonable 'ours.

BROWN and MR. LUKEIN got a-talkin' over some property as he'd got left 'im, MRS. LUKEIN and me went to bed, and arter seein' as she was comfortable, I goes to my own room and there was the kettle still 'ot though the fire was out, and though I was dead tired I thought I'd put my feet in the 'ot water if only for a minit or two.

I don't remember nothin' more arter I'd put 'em in till I'eard a 'ammerin' noise as I thought was the workpeople opposite, and a-thinkin' as some one was a-roastin' of my legs and feet as was hagony. I give a start, and if I 'adn't been and fell asleep with my feet in that water as they was froze into, and BROWN a-'ammerin' at the door as I'd been and turned the key in, not a-thinkin' what I was a-doin' on. BROWN he was that savage, a-sayin', "You're a-beginnin' the year werry nicely, MRS. BROWN." I says, BROWN, it's my death as I've caught," and so I thought as I 'ad, for no rubbin' would bring the life back into my feet, and I says, "The idea of your a-sittin' up till near three o'clock a-talkin'." He says, "It was all about business," and goes off to sleep; but as to me I was like a mask of icicles, a-creepin' from 'ead to foot, and thought as I never should get warm

no more.

It's lucky as MRS. LUKEIV could stop with me a day or two, for I was that bad as never was, with mustard plaisters and a blister that strong as nearly drawed me crooked. I was gettina little better and Mas. LUKEIN and her good gentleman was gone 'ome, and the werry

next night, I was woke up through 'earin' a noise like droppin' all over the room.

As to wakin' BROWN, you might as well 'ope to wake a milestone, as will only give a grunt and turn over agin. So I gets out of bed for in pools ice cold, and when I'd got a light, if the place wasn't deluged to light a candle, but 'adn't gone many steps, for I felt I was a-steppin' through the ceilin' a-droppin' water like a shower bath.

I wakes BROWN by hollerin', and when he see what was up, he says, you did ought to 'ave 'ad 'em looked to." I said, "Ow was I ever "It's the gutters as is stopped and overflowin' through the thaw, as other room, and not lay 'ere to be drownded like rats;" and so we did, to know as it was a-goin' to thaw?" But I says, "Let's go into the but, bless you, I got a chill as throwed me back for days.

I did think as I should 'ave gone mad when I got about agin, and see the way as our water-pipes 'ad busted all over the place; but I says, "Thank goodness as it's over." Says BROWN, "Don't you holler 'till you're out of the wood."

Three days arter that, and a Tuesday, I was a-settin' over the fire, for a thaw is always a chilly feelin' to me, when in who should come but ALFRED, for to say as 'is little sister wasn't expected to live through the night, and as 'is mother wasn't able for to do nothin' through 'er cold bein' that bad. I says, "Why ever didn't you go to your Aunt. TAPWELL?" He said as he did, but she couldn't wenture out.

Well, I didn't know what to do; but I sends ALFRED for a cab, and goes with him to'is mother, as is livin' near the Westminster-road. I don't think as ever I was more savage in my life when I see that. gal; why she wasn't 'arf as bad as me. I says to 'er mother, "Why ever did you send for me ?" "Oh," she says, "I'm such a bad 'and. in illness, and thought as 'er cough sounded croupy." I says, "Rubbish; at 'er age, as is jist on eleven!"

I was that tired as I felt as though a cup of tea would do me good, so waited for to 'ave one, as wasn't worth the waitin' for, through bein' smoky; but thought as I'd go 'ome as soon as it was over. That ALFRED, he went out afore tea, a-sayin' as he'd be in directly, so I waited for 'im to see me in the 'bus, for them cabs do run into money frightful. I waited and waited, but no ALFRED came in, so I says, "I must go;" and off I started; but, law bless you, I 'adn't 'ardly got off the doorstep when away went my 'eels, and I must 'ave slid two or three feet, and down I come on my back that crash as I thought I'd broke everything, for if it 'adn't been and froze worse than ever.

A very nice gentleman as was passin', he stops for to lift me up, but, bless you, we was both down together in a jiffey, and if two parties, as come out of the 'ouse next door but one to JANE's didn't come and tumble slap over us. I managed for to crawl to the iron railin's, and get on my feet; but, bless you, move I dursn't, for the place was like lookin'-glass; and every body a-tumblin' about like mad. Well, I stood there a-'oldin' them iron rails ever so long. At last, some parties come by, a-walkin' arm in arm to 'old one another up, as says to me, "Join us, old lady." Well, I didn't much fancy their ways, but didn't dare move without 'elp, so I ketches 'old of a party's arm, but, law, the moment as I moved, down I goes, and dragged the others along with me, as certingly broke my fall.

So one of them young fellers he come and picks me up, and says, "Let's put 'er in the middle;" as they did accordin', and says, "Come on, mother, 'old your body up." I says, "For mercy sake, don't go a-walkin' on like this;" for they was a-'urryin' me down the Westminster-road so as my feet didn't 'ardly touch the ground; and I was more a-slidin' than a-walkin'. So they says, "We can't dawdle on sich a night as this;" and on they rushes. I says, "Stop;" but, law bless you, if they didn't get into the middle of the road, and join a lot more, and then another lot come behind as kep' a-shoutin', "Now then, keep movin' !" and trod on my 'eels frightful. I do believe as them wagabones was only a-makin' game on me, for when they got ever so far along the road if they didn't turn back. I says, "Let me go; I ain't a-goin' back-this is my way 'ome." They says, "All right;" and did let me go, and down I went; and there was them fellers a-goin' on shoutin' and singin'.

I don't think as I should 'ave lived to see 'ome agin, for I was a-settin' 'elpless in the middle of the road, only a cab come by as took me for five shillin's; and I wasn't out of my bed for ten days, and everything went wrong in the 'ouse, for the cat was pisoned, and that gal as I'd took out of charity, she went off and left me in the larch; and if it 'adn't been as Ms. PADWICK come to nuss me, I should never 'ave lived through it; and what with the doctor's bill and the plumber's bill, we was pretty nigh cleaned out; and all I got to say is that if that's a old-fashioned winter, I'd rather have a new one myself.

Con. By an April Fool.

WHY is wet weather more pleasant than dry? Because it is more in-door-able.

THE EMPIRE OF PEACE.

BENEATH her Royal rulers France

Had peace for thirty years,

Or only used her sword and lance

To take and keep Algiers.

The French, in course of time, preferred
Napoleonic sway;

The earliest phrase that Europe heard
Was "L'empire c'est la paix!"

The reign of peace was scarce begun,
When, see, the conscript goes
To perish, after battles won,

Amid Crimean snows.

What special good to Frenchmen came
It might be hard to say;

But still the burden was the same

Was "L'empire c'est la paix !"

Not long the martial spirit slept,

For, quickly roused again,

The rush of France's armies swept

Across the Lombard plain.

They proved, of course, their ancient might, On Solferino's day;

The moral lesson of the fight

Was "L'empire c'est la paix !"

The tricolor, it fluttered fair,
About the China Seas,

And helped the British trader there
To cheapen British teas.
Small glory could the eagles gain,
Beyond the Mexic Bay;
They're flying baffled home again,
And "L'empire c'est la paix !"

AT

PARIS.

Tomkins finds that prices have risen in consequence of the Exposition, and thinks French dinners not quite so jolly as they were.

At peace once more the Empire stands,

But arming to the teeth,

And there's a twitching in the hands
That clutch the faulchion's sheath.
The Teuton and the Gaul ere long
May meet in mortal fray;

But still the burthen of the song
Is "L'empire c'est la paix !"

The Strike.

THE journeymen tailors declare that they will not allow themselves to be starved into submission. Every single man of them would cook his own goose sooner than that. Groups of unmistakable tailorsgenerally in bodies of nine-may be met with in the streets. Some of the first swells of the land are in great distress in consequence of their inability to procure new clothes, and have been obliged to borrow some of their own old suits from their valets.

A Grateful Country.

WHO says that we forget our benefactors? Who accuses the Army Departments of dilatoriness? No one, we trust, in the face of the statement made last week that a pension of ninepence a day has just been granted to WILLIAM HUMPHREYS, aged 78, for services in the Peninsular War. He quitted the army in 1817, so that the authorities have been only half a century in settling his claims. And yet men won't enlist!

A Full Stop.

DR. CUMMING has just published a book called The Last Woe. After this woh we hope he will pull up.

REMARKABLE EFFECT OF THE LATE EASTERLY WINDS.-All noses not blown off were blew (blue) on.

ARTHUR C.-I am here to meet Edith, who is coming by train from Canterbury. I will not go and meet her on the platform, but I will wander about in front of the Charing-cross Hotel. What more natural than that I should avail myself of this opportunity to remark, with much melodramatic action, that I am disinherited by my uncle in favour of Jacob Blount, M.P., because I get drunk? [Wanders about the Strand. Enter EDITH with large trunk and bandbox. EDITH.-I have just arrived, but where is my Arthur? I suppose the fond youth is drunk as usual. I will sit on my trunk in the middle of the Strand and await him. [Does so. Enter, from the Hotel, JACOB BLOUNT, M.P., MENDEZ, and MAJOR O'GAB.

BLOUNT.-A lovely gal? I will deceive her!

MENDEZ.-I will help you, s'help me! My grey hairs and false nose will inspire confidence.

BLOUNT.-Away! (To EDITH.) Young thing, let me protect youI see you are alone in the Great City.

EDITH. I will! I will!

Enter EDITH and BLOUNT, apparently from the Inland Revenue Office. BLOUNT.-Notwithstanding the Moselle, she still believes I am actuated by the purest motives. Simple are the children of Canterbury. We are now going to Kennington-I have walked with her to this spot to bring it within a shilling cab fare. EDITH.-Away, then, to Kennington! BLOUNT.-Away!

[They get into a cab, which has just arrived by a penny steamer. Enter ARTHUR, drunk. ARTHUR.-Edith! [Falls senseless. ACT II. SCENE 1.--Drawing-room in Edith's House in Belgravia. Acres of room's with domed and fretted ceilings, suggestive of Belgravian Luxury. Tall ices handed round as usual. Grand saturnalia of witless Honourables in Berlin gloves and chin tufts. Card tables, chess tables, &c., as usually found in Belgravian Ball-rooms. Four Noblemen discovered dancing with four Peeresses in their own Right. EDITH. Last night I was a wanderer in London-to-day I am wealthy, and go into the best society. Somebody has died in Australia, and left me millions. This is a room in my mansion in Belgrave-square. It has a domed roof, like the interior of a Mosque, which adds to its effect, but interferes with the arrangements of the apartment over it, the floor of which is difficult to walk upon. Witless Honourables crowd about me, and seek my hand in regular marriage, notwithstanding the awkward fact that I, a girl of eighteen or so, am living alone in this mansion, and giving parties without any chaperone. Enter MEDNDEZ and BLOUNT.

MENDEZ.-Oh, s'help me, my tear!
BLOUNT.-Readily, my friend.

Enter a COMIC FLUNKEY.

[S'helps him R.

Comic F. Mr. Blount, M.P., this appears to me to be a fitting opportunity to tell you the history of my life and my dawning prospects.

DIRTY C.-Pip!-I should say, Edith! I am your papa, MagwitchI should say, Mogg! It is 4 a.m., and a more fitting opportunity for making this announcement may never occur. 'Twas I who furnished you with £5,000 a-year st night.

EDITH.-Ha! I see it ll. Great Expectations" all over again! MOGG.-Here is my address, a thieves' kitchen in Saffron-hill. Happy to see you when you like to call. [Exit, molto agitato.

Enter BLOUNT. BLOUNT.-I have been hidden under a sofa, and I heard all. I will denounce him. [Exit. EDITH.-Ha! I may yet warn him of his danger. (To servant.) Quick, an opera cloak, I will walk as I am to Saffron-hill.

[Puts opera cloak over ball dress, and walks to Saffron-hill. ACT III. SCENE 1.-The Jolly Beggars' Club.

Enter MoGo, drunk, followed by about a hundred jolly beggars, and
MENDEZ, in Turkish costume.
MENDEZ.-Ha! ha! Kitchen in Saffron-hill-Belgrave-square, just
now. Such is life, my tear!

Enter EDITH, in ball dress, with her hair down to express Mogg's danger.
EDITH.-Papa Mogg, the crushers are upon you!
MOGG.-Ha! I will conceal myself down a trap.
Enter CRUSHERS, of course with moustachios, and headed by BLOUNT.
EDITH.-Saved! Saved!

SCENE 2.-4 Board-room.

[Does so.

[Faints.

MOGG.-I am pursued. How to escape? Ha! Those telegraph wires! (Pulls down four telegraph wires, calculated to bear a strain of about five tons each, twists them into a rope, and descends over parapet.) Enter BLOUNT and BEARDED CRUSHERS. BLOUNT.-He will escape me yet! I have it. My trusty pocketknife will cut through the four telegraph wires in rather less than a twinkling! [Cuts wires with pocket-knife. Groans from smashed MOGG. ACT IV. SCENE 1.-Room in Edith's House. Smashed MOGG on couch, conveniently placed between folding doors. EDITH and ARTHUR CARRINGTON nursing him. MOGG.-I die in great agony. See me plunge. [Plunges EDITH.—But look here; before you die couldn't you contrive to bless us. Arthur has taken the pledge, and won't get drunk three times a day any more.

MOGG (screams).-Ya-How! [Dies in convulsions. SCENE 2.--Railway Station. "Profile" train ready to start. Crowds of Passengers on platform. They object to get into a profile train. Officials explain that all the "made-out" trains have struck. Enter BLOUNT and a YOUNG WOMAN.