Recollection of a jolly old paterfamilias we saw the other day, with

some air-balloons for the chicks.

Consols at 8o.

Consols at 90.
HUSBAND. “Well! I declare I'm quite
glad it's a wet day. It will be an excuse
to stop at home with my darling little pip-
sey popsy. What do you say, Dickey ! eh ?
Pretty Dick! Pretty Lick!”

HUSBAND. “Go out for a walk! Non-
sense ! I've something else to do. I think,
too, you might pull down that blind, unless
you want the sun to spoil all the furniture ;
and, dear, dear, do for goodness' sake, JEMI-
MA, take that d-

canary out of the room !”

JONES (who is naturally proud of his first-born). “A little darling, ain't he?"

BACHELOR FRIEND. “H'm, ha! I see -- young gorilla ! Is he real or stuffed ?"

A Bon-bon from a Juvenile Party. FIRST JUVENILE. “That's a pretty girl talking to young AlGERNON BINKS!"

SECOND JUVENILE. "H'm- tol-lol! You should have seen her some seasons ago."

BOWKER, who is fond of nice things for breakfast, and sometimes markets for himself, becomes an object of interest from having laid in a few bloaters, and half a pound of fresh Cambridge sausages, from Bond Street - and which sausages and bloaters are in his coatpocket.