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He scouted all who wished to come

And give him monetary schooling;

And I propose to give you some
Idea of his insensate fooling.

I formed a Company or two

(Of course I don't know what the rest meant,

I formed them solely with a view

To help him to a sound investment.)

Their objects were-their only cares-
To justify their Boards in showing
A handsome dividend on shares

And keep their good promoter going.

But no-the lout sticks to his brass

Though shares at par I freely proffer: Yes-will it be believed ?-the ass

Declines, with thanks, my well-meant offer

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"You have two hundred thou' or more,"
Said I, "You'll waste it, lose it, lend it-
Come, take my furnished second floor,
I'll gladly show you how to spend it!"

But will it be believed that he,

With grin upon his face of poppy, Declined my aid, while thanking me

For what he called my "philanthroppy."

Some blind, suspicious fools rejoice

In doubting friends who wouldn't harm them: They will not hear the charmer's voice, However wisely he may charm them!

I showed him that his coat, all dust,

Top boots and cords provoked compassion; And proved that men of station must Conform to the degrees of fashion.

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But no-the clown my prospects blights(The worth of birth it surely teaches!) "Why should I want to spend my nights In Parliament, a-making speeches ?

"I haven't never been to schoolI ain't had not no eddicationAnd I should surely be a fool

To publish that to all the nation!"

I offered him a trotting horse-
No hack had ever trotted faster-

I also offered him, of course,

A rare and curious "old master."

I offered to procure him weeds-
Wines fit for one in his position-
But, though an ass in all his deeds,

He'd learnt the meaning of "commission."

He called me "thief" the other day,

And daily from his door he thrusts me; Much more of this, and soon I may

Begin to think that BROWN mistrusts me.

So deaf to all sound Reason's rule
This poor uneducated clown was,
You cannot fancy what a fool

Poor rich uneducated BROWN was!

An-e Difference.

A CONTEMPORARY, speaking of submarine telegraphy, states that a cable is projected from San Francisco to the Sandwich Islands, and thence to China and Japan. It adds :

"Such a cable might in time be profitable, and in time the necessity therefore will be sorely felt."

If our friend does not mean, antiquely speaking (not to say antically), "therefor" his remarks are somewhat sarcastic, for the "sore want of such a cable-seo prospectus of future company-will be the "therefore" which follows the "because" of profits.

Town Talk.

BY THE SAUNTERER IN SOCIETY.

HERARD OSBORNE reports the reparation of

the cable of 1866. One of the earliest bits of news it will have to flash under

the Atlantic to our Ameri

can

cousins

will be star

tling enough even to people who are not

averse from impeaching their Own

President. There will be

more stir

created in America I fancy by the news of GARIBADI's arrest than there has been in England. We have begun to give the General up as a riddle

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too hard to solve, and are little surprised at anything he is, does, or suffers. We still admire him, but the admiration is blended with wonder. At any rate no one can regret that he has been checked without any disturbance of the peace, so necessary for the "solidification of the Italian kingdom. But at the very best the position is an extremely trying one for the king and people, no less than for the noble prisoner.

The mention of the Atlantic Cable reminds one that the scheme for placing the telegraphs in the hards of the General Post Office seems likely to be abandoned. It is to be greatly regretted that the agitation should drop, for the telegraph companies want waking up sadly. There is no depending upon them at all, and even in a matter of life and death if you urge the immediate transmission of your message upon the clerk, he gives you a flippant and unsatisfactory answer. would be an improvement if they would allow you to pay an extra fee to insure promptitude, with damages recoverable.

It

The Fenian raid at Manchester has startled us all considerably. It is no jesting matter that a handful of armed men should be able to rescue prisoners from a police-van almost undisturbed. The whole thing is incomprehensible; the police were warned, but did not take sufficient precaution, and the rioters assembled and hung about the Hyde-road for hours waiting for the van, and yet no report of the gathering reached head-quarters. Then, again, it is very encouraging to the conspirators, and most detrimental to the cause of order that the two rescued prisoners should be still at large. In fact, what with this rescue, the escape of STEPHENS, and the numerous similar cases (an escape was reported only last week), we shall have the people who are superstitious believing that bolts and bars and prison walls cannot confine a Fenian. The truth, I fancy, is, that our prison system is as faulty as our police system; that it serves well enough when it deals with the ordinary criminal, but fails as soon as it encounters a more intelligent or a more enterprising villain.

The London and Brighton Railway, which once seemed to be the best managed and most prosperous of all the railways, is turning out to be no better than its neighbours. The latest revelation shows that for the sake of appearing wealthy, it has been paying income-tax at the rate of a hundred thousand a year-upon a loss! If an individual were to get credit by producing his receipts for a tremendous incometax, he would, I suppose, be indictable for obtaining money under false pretences. In a railway company such conduct is considered "able financing," I dare say. But what will the unhappy share

holders say? Of course the Government will refuse to return the money-and very rightly.

I have just received from MESSRS. BARNARD of Oxford a set of magic-lantern slides which are reproductions of "FUN's Illustrated Edition of the Poets," published in the almanac of last year. They are cleverly copied, and, being printed by a patent enamel process, can be produced in numbers which bring the price down to a very reasonable figure.

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66

The magazines are so plentiful nowadays, one never seems to get through them all in the month. The third number of Tinsley's is a very marked improvement. A paper on Yachting" is capital, and "Somebody's Bag" is good. "Dr. Brady" progresses admirably, and so does "The Rock Ahead"-but why will MR. YATES introduce so many real people, under very transparent disguises, into all his stories? WALT WHITMAN'S "Carol" is not the best thing which that eccentric genius has written, but there is some poetry and not much" barbaric yaup' "in it. Belgravia has copied Tinsley's in one department, and bids for the favour of the ladies with an article on Paris Fashions. By the way, the editor has been represented as horrified to find that "MR. BABINGTON WHITE" has cribbed "Circe" from OCTAVE FEUILLET, and desirous to return us all our shillings! What would she say if she knew that BALZAC has also been laid under contribution for that same novel? Who can this mysterious being with the very melodramatic name and the hazy ideas of literary honesty be? I had always been under the impression that it was only a nom de plume of MISS BRADDON'S. Cassell's Magazine seems to improve. But for a very twaddlesome and shallow paper on omnibuses by DR. WYNTER, it would be almost faultless, as far as the editorial and literary department is concerned. The printing and the cuts are still susceptible of improvement. The Quiver is full of its usual arrows, though some of them are a little too "goody" for my taste. Many of the illustrations, notably those of WATSON, are good, but I think the coloured frontispiece a mistake. While I am on literary matters I may just say how glad I am to see that we are shortly to have "The Life and Times of QUEEN ANNE" from MR. HANNAY. It will be, I dare prophesy, a rare treat to all who love to read of that glorieus age.

AT SKELMORLIE.

A DREAM OF A SCOTTISH WATERING PLACE.

O MAIDEN that art on the shores of Skelmorlie,
Where grimly the great cliffs look down on the Clyde ;
Where sunsets are golden, and Summer yields sorely
Her empire to Autumn, who comes in her pride.
You must have a name for my verse, this dilemma
Is awkward, a poet can't rhyme to a myth;

So we will, if you please, for the nonce call you EMMA,
Your surname? No matter; say BROWN, JONES, or SMITH.

I think that we must have been children together;
With faces soap-polish'd to one school we went;
When the toffy and apples in very hot weather
Would get in our pockets offensively blent.
Your appetite, then, would be very voracious,
Your eyes on your food most devouringly roll'd;
While I was an infant, both mild and mendacious,
And you would be whipped for the crammers I told.
Sweet days of our childhood! How pleasing the duty,
To burst, like a bird, on the theme into song;
We grew; I can safely say I did, in beauty,

You'll tell me, I beg, if my facts should be wrong.
And you, when I married your sister, for ever
Became from that time quite the pest of my life;
I vow, if I'd known all your tricks I would never
Have taken that creature seraphic to wife.

This may be a dream from the Ivory Portal,

We know that dreams come to disquiet the breast; You may be a vision, no flesh and blood mortal, With hair very crèpé, becomingly dress'd. What of that! while the Laureate may rhyme to his lasses, (He names in his verse a round dozen or more) I'll fill to your name in the largest of glasses, A little hot water,-and whiskey galore!

"Try our Dillwyn's Mixture."

THE "tea-room party," of which MR. DILLWYN was the spokesman the other day, seems to set too much value on the stir created by its teaspoons. It was but a tempest in a tea-cup; but those concerned would do better to wash their dirty tea service, like their dirty clothes, at home.

THE LOBLOLLY LETTERS.

A DOMESTIC DRAMA SET FORTH IN A FEW FAMILIAR EPISTLES.

[From Miss Julia Loblolly, Broadstairs, to Miss Aminta Jipkittle, Norwood.]

DEAR MINTY,-I am most miserable. I have been cruelly deceived. Yesterday I went down, as usual, to sit on the pier, where there is a nice awning and occasional negro minstrels. Now a lot of silly people are always writing all sorts of nonsense on the walls there, and I have often, for fun, read them. What do you think? I saw written in pencil the following dreadful words :-" ALGERNON, if you can manage to get rid of that odious J. L. to-morrow, meet your Lorry at the old place under the cliff to-morrow.' And then followed:-"I shall come this afternoon to look for an answer.” And there was an answer. And it was in his hand writing-I know it, never mind how! It was this:"I'll throw J. L. over, and come.-Your ALGERNON." Her ALGERNON, indeed? But I have done with him, and Lotty (whoever she is) is welcome to him, for all I care.

But I am very miserable, and if it were not for packing I should cry. GEORGE was very kind. When he saw what I had been reading, he went and scratched it all out. So considerate, wasn't it?

We shall all come back by the boat to-morrow. I do hope it won't be rough. There have been such high winds and tides lately, the waves broke quite over the pier. It was quite like the fountains at the Crystal Palace sometimes, only wetter. WILLIAM got caught by the tide in a little bay one evening, and couldn't get out until twelve at night. He was dreadfully cold and hungry. GEORGE Congratulated him on being made a tide-waiter-he says such funny things and jokes so pleasantly.

I could not finish my letter before leaving Broadstairs, and now we've been home four days—and I only just take up my pen to complete it.

Dearest MINTY, I am the happiest girl in the world. All is quite changed, and I have had a lesson. But I will tell you everything straight on. You know sea-water ruins your boots, and I wanted to get some new ones. So GEORGE very kindly offered to escort me, and we went to Poole-street, to a shoemaker called Steel, who GEORGE said was a capital man. I went in and sat down-and what do you think? The man who came to fit on the boots was ALGERNON ACIER!! And, what was worse, his real name wan't STEEL even, much less ACIER. He was only the second shopman. I thought I should have sunk through the floor. But GEORGE was so good-so kind-so considerate. He pretended not to know anything; and spoke quite patronisingly to this person. He said he had seen him at Broadstairs, and they got into a conversation— though the shopboy looked awfully confused. It seems he is to marry his precious LOTTY. She is a shopgirl at CANT AND CASK'S. There, now I've told you all-no, not quite all. In fact, I'm going to be married-but I'm not going to change my name. JULIA LOBLOLLY.

Your loving

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DEAR CHARLIE,-The oracle has worked admirably. Congratulate me, old fellow! I'm going to marry the girl I love. She's a regular little stunner, though she was a little stuck-up and spoilt. But she has had a lesson, and will profit by it for the rest of her life.

I told you I had a little scheme afoot, and now I'll give you details. I twigged my bootmaker's assistant cutting a dash down here under an assumed name. He managed to make JULIA, who of course knows nothing of swells, believe that he was one. It was mere impudence and vanity, for he was engaged to a shopgirl at CANT AND CASK's, and she was down there too. However, he deceived poor JULIA completely, and behaved like a scamp-but I took it out of him. Luckily, she wanted some boots on her return to town, so I escorted her to my shop, and then humiliated the fellow in her presence. She had had a smart shock a little before, finding some scribbled nonsense at the pierend, and this completed the cure.

She appreciated my conduct-for I never chaffed, and did all I could to console. In the end she consented to be my wife-there, old boy! You and I have been chums ever since we fought together at old WAPHAM's academy, and I always told you that you should be the first to hear of the splicing. You must be groomsman too, and give Yours ever, GEORGE. me away!

P.S.-The governor is quite happy now he is back: pickles are Paradise Regained to him. My mother is all the better now that there's no chance of the young 'uns falling into the water. As for

WILLIAM, his love of philosophy will always lead him into messes, wherever he is. He frightened us all out of our wits the other night by getting cut off by the tide in a little bay with steep cliffs. It was a near squeak, for the tide only left him about ten feet square of sand to bless himself with.

I shall always look back to our stay at Broadstairs with pleasure, for I owe it much.

does not think I have a call for his business, and seems to think P.P.S.-I've just told the governor, who is quite satisfied. But he WILLIAM better suited to sustain the reputation of the house in oil and colours. So he has offered me my share in money, to enable me to start in any line I choose. Hooray!

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We have not heard of MR. TUPPER's decease, so we are rather at a loss to explain the mystic intimation that he is "now at length;" but the fact that something is to be done in recognition of his " services to literature and religion" shines unmistakeably through the fog of bad grammar in which the announcement is wrapped.

It is declared that the form of the Testimonial will be determined by its amount, and it is suggested that probably the simplest form is best. Both of these intimations point to a letter "O" as the form that the testimonial is likely to assume. Personally, we decline to send cheques to MR. THOMAS HUNT for that purpose; but the following inscription, adapted to its probable form, is quite at his service :

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"Bill o' the Play."

AN ingenious American has invented a new style of programme for the theatres. It is made of light pastry, and the letter-press is printed in chocolate paste. The notion is pleasant, and will be very popular at Christmas, when MASTER HOPEFUL will look forward to his pantomime with more than even his ordinary "devouring anxiety." Puff paste will of course be the popular medium for advertising stars, while a heavier hand will be needed for the production of programmes for dough-mestic dramas. One comfort is, that even in cases where a new piece won't go down, its bills can be swallowed.

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