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We started in very good time; me dressed that cool, for I couldn't hardly bear myself; but the way as Mus. Promt had dressed that gal was downright suffocation, with a fur round her throat and underclothes quite wintry.

Well, we had a cab, for Probit is well-to-do, and a steady man, as keeps to his home, and that doating of his children that if they could eat gold they might have it, as is what fathers should be. Mrs. Pbobit is certainly a fine woman, but too much on her for tho same side of a cab with me, as would have set on the back seat willing only thro' it being that narrow as throwed me too forward.

Well, Matilda Jane, she was rather in the sulks, tho' too much indulged by her ma. I says, "Mrs. Promt, in my opinion them cherries as she's a-eating is too many." But, law bless you, you might as well hope to get butter out of a dog's throat as anything eatables from them young Probits.

Her ma she got a-coaxing of her for not to cat 'em, as only begun for to pout and whine and make faces at me. I didn't say another word, tho' conscious as Matilda Jane kep' a-shuving me a purpose, tho' pretendin' it was tho cab as made her leg swing, and jest ketched me in the shin-bone thro' her a-settin' in the middle opposite to her ma and me.

Well, we got to the doctor's, and had to wait that long thro' crowds a-bein' waitin' to see him. Some on 'em looked bad, but there was them there as had nothing but fancies I could see. When the doctor did see us he very soon settled Matilda Jane, as was that pouty as he couldn't make much on her, tho' he took a deal of pains over her, to be sure, a-listening at her chest and back with a strerryscope, as seemed to do her good, for she breathed more free.

When we come out, Mrs. Probit she says, " I'm tired of sitting, let's 'ave a bit of a walk." So as Matilda Jane had been promised for to see the Queen's palis and all that, if she'd come to the doctor, we walked along.

Mrs. Probit she knows the West-end well, thro' being formerly a parlour-maid, near Brunswick-square. But of all the worreting gals it's that Matilda Jane. First one thing, then another, till you're nearly mad. We walks to Regency-street, where we was in time for to see the soldiers, as goes up and down twice a day in troops for to keep order, as is certainly needed thro' tho crowds. Them soldiers is very grand, and them dear black osses, as they say is as sensible as Christians, tho' I must say as them steel coats must be warm wear.

The shops in Regency-street is wonderful. Wherever they gets the things from and whatever they do with 'em I can't think. Well, we was a-walking up slow the shady side quite agreeable, when Matilda Jane see a-something across tho road, so we had for to cross, and if it hadn't been for tho dark party as was sweeping a crossing I never should have got across, and jest as I was a hesitatin' on the kerb one of them water-carts come by as pulled the string malicious and regular deluged me.

Well, I givo a run for it, and the pole of a 'bus only jest cleared me, sending me so close to a dust-cart, as that frightened mo as I run smack into a doorway for me to recover a bit, and I was a-talking to Mrs. Probit and a gentleman come up.

"You must be Mrs. Brown," says he.

"I am that same," says I.

"Then," says he, "pray walk in and set down." Well, as he was quito polite, and you could see one as know'd a lady when seeing of her, I did. He says, " The weather is warm." I says, " Uncommon."

When I was a little come to he asked mo if I'd like for to see his pictcr.

Certainly a pictcr he was, dressed beautiful, with that clean linen as was got up quite a pleasure to look at, as them West-end swells always is. But it wasn't his own pieter, but of one of High Park, as was that full of figures it was downright dazzlin'. Certainly I never did see a pieter as was more life-like, parties a-riding about beautiful. There was a good many a-standing idle about, as is the way them West-enders wastes their time thro' havin' nothing to do.

Well, we was a-lookin' at the pieter when a party of ladies and gentlemen come in a-bouncing and says, "Very good—very liko tho Royal family."

I says, "Where's tho Royal family, Mrs. Probit?"

She says, "There, you can tell them through their red coats."

So one of them bouncers he busts out a-laughing, as hurt my feelins, but I kep' a-lookin' at the pieter, but Matilda Jane was that fidgets as I says, "Mrs. Promt, we'll go," which wo did a-thanking of that gentleman as 'ad took us in and bowed that polite, a-showin' of a forehead as is downright noble, and said he'd a-kuowed me anywheres, as is surprisin'.

So Mus. Probit, as knows her way about, makes for the park, as was decided agreeable, thro' a findin' of a shady seat, and being provided with a basket as had refreshments, we oat 'em pleasant, and was able to get ginger-beer and curds and whey at one of tho gates;

not as I holds with them curds, as is 'eavy to the stomach, but gingerbeer, with a something in it as we'd provided in a flask, was a drink as we took to.

Well, we set and rested ever so long, and see a many as was a-riding and walking in them parks, jest for all tho world liko the pieter with the Royal family left out, and we see one carriago go thro' full of ladies as was all feathers.

"Why, if it ain't a drawin' -room," says Mrs. Promt.

"A what?" says I.

"A drawin'-room as is held by the Queen; let's come and see it."

I says, "I'm agreeable. But," I says, "we can't take the basket and things into the drawin'-room."

Sho laughs and says, " Come along." So we gets into tho streets agin, and certainly the carriages was a sight, and so was the parties in 'em; I never see anything like it, never. The feathers, the diamons, and the gowns that size as they was a-coming up all out of the carriages.

Well, we walked along, and was able to see into the carriagewindows, as was a-waitin' all along the kerb thro' a-settin' down that slow, and certainly some of the young gals was nice looking and pretty, tho' many looked as if they was stripped for to give their necks a good wash. As was all very well for them as was young, tho' in my opinion looks bold, but, law, some of the old ones was downright disgraceful. I never did.

I says, "Mrs. Probit, this old lady in tho wig, as wants a little oil dreadful, will catch her death a-setting here undressed like this, they did ought to givo her a shawl or a some thin'." I says, "I do believe as her things 'as slipt unawares. Why ever don't some one tell her on it as can't bo sensible."

Says Mrs. Probit, "That's their ways; for I've know'd them do it night after night in draughts enough to cut you in two."

"She did ought to bo ashamed of herself, as must be a grandmother if she's a hour, a-settin' there in the open daylight exposed like that."

Wo walked on all down tho street as leads to the Palis, as is a dingy holo to look at outside, and at a corner there was such a scrouging as I couldn't get by, and were that squozo as made it painful thro' being drug up agin some boards, as was a door put trumpery agin a shop where I was that stifled, I says, " Hair," I says, and don't know whatever would have 'apponed if a gentleman, as must bo a lord I should say, hadn't opened the door sudden and pulled me in. I thought I should have died, for thoy'd trod my shoes down at tho 'eels and my gownd was all out at the gethers.

So I says to the gentleman as was that kind, "Wherever do you think as Mrs. Promt is got to?" He says as he couldn't say, but would make me 'ave a glass of sherry wined, as was rcfroshin', and behaved quite like a father to me.

So they says, "There goes the band!" and helps me up to see it, as was all welwet caps and gold lace, and played beautiful.

I says, "When's the Queen a-comin'." They says, "Not to-day, thro' it being only a princess as holds the drawin'-room."

Well, I kep' a-seltin' a-thinkin' as Mrs. Probit might pass ; as she did not, so I says, "I must bo a-gettin' homewards, and shall fall in with her on the way." So I thanks the gentleman, and off I starts, and if I asked one policeman if he'd seen Mrs. Promt I must have asked twenty, but they was quite rude. So I gets on till I sees a Blackwall 'bus, and in I gets, and glad for to do so, and fell that fast asleep as never to wake till we was passed our turnin', and was on the stroke of six when I got in and found Brown a-waiting for his tea, and as to Mrs. Probit she never got home till nine, and had the impidenco for to say as it were my fault for leavin' on her with the child on her hands a-fancyin' as I'd been run over, which is her rubbish, and only excuses for a-goin' to drink tea with the friend, and in my opinion givo me the slip intentional.

So I up and told her a bit of my mind, for Matilda Jane let it out; and certainly I was put out when that aggravatiu' young thing had tho imperence to tell me to my face as I was a nuisance, and her mother said so, for which reason thoy'd left me in the scrouge.

So I says, "mrs. Probit, next time as you takes that object to a doctor don't ask me."

Well, them remarks puts up her black blood, thro' her mother bein' of a half-cast, so we ain't spoke since. As I often says, it's the cold, ungrateful world, and the more you does the more you may. But as to them Westerners for going to show theirselves like that to the Queen, it's downright a deal more than barefaced, as they are. I don't hold with such ways, as always was a fine clear skin, but not one to show it like that was it ever so.

A Good Look out for Arctic Explorers.

We understand that Captain Sherard Osborn and all the old Arctic expedition men are in great glee, hearing that the general cry throughout the country will shortly be, "Go early to the Poll!"



HERE lias just occurred to us an inspiration —a thing which doesn't happen to us above three times a year; and we hereby make an offer of our little windfall to the proprietors of daily nowspapers, Liberal, Conservative, Radical, and otherwise. It came to us in a dream this morning, soon after wo had fallen asleep over the parliamentary reports

in the" (a

journal which we read in preference to tho "——" bocause its politics arc more healthy). In this vision, which was quite as beautiful as Coleridge's Ktti/a Khan, and much more practical, wo fancied oursolvcs in the reporter's gallery at tho House of Commons. It was our painful duty—nay, our glorious privilege— to arrest the fleeting utterances of Great Britain's collective wisdom, and convey them, through the medium of stenography, to an anxious public. Suddenly the flood-gates of poesy were opened within us, and wo felt precisely as the present-lamented Mr. Titfeu must havo felt while saying,

M Lava-torrents roar and roll
Through tho vext bowels of my soul."

Prose was much too tame for us at that moment. Seizing our pen we immediately dashed into the following very picturesque and strictly truthful piece of Parliamentary reporting:—

'Twas evening—and the gaslight's ghastly glare
Fell on the forms and features of our sages;

For England's capital had gathered thero
Hen of all heights, all politics, all ages;

Men who had erst contributed a sharo
To Hansard's gloomy, but instructive pages;

Whose ancestors, perchance, enjoyed a vote,

As Members of tho "Wittcna-Gemotc.

I thought of Cromwell, of Sir Harry Vase,
Of Pym, of Hampden, and of Charles The First.

I thought of Edmund Burke's impassioned strain,
And that commanding eloquence which burst

From Brlnsley Sheridan (although it's plain
That all his points were previously rehearsed).

And having thought of this, I thought of bed,

But Mr. Darby Griffith rose and said:—

He thought the present question (Cries of "Hear!")

Was just the kind of question that arises
Whenever the (An Opposition cheer)

Opinion of the people of Devizes »
(Loud cries of " Question ")—well, he would adhere

More closely to his case. The late assizes
(Cheers from below the gangway) in that town
(The honourable Member then sat down).

A pause ensued, when straightway Mr. Whalley
Rose amidst hisses and loud cries of "Sing."

He thought it was intensely melancholy
(Immense applause) to see this sort of thiDg.

Confessionals, and all such Popish folly,
Wore evidently carried on to bring

The Romish tenets into circulation

In this—(Loud symptoms of disapprobation).

At this momentous period of the evening's entertainment, we

dreamt that we awoke. The foregoing verses, however, which still lingered in our memory (a most retentive one), were instantly committed to paper. We have only to suggest that all reporters of parliamentary debates should in future do their spiriting in rhyme instead of contenting themselves with the present vulgar and miserable medium of prose.


By Our Own Special French Commissioner.

It has but a few days that I promenaded myself to the noble Lord's Oval, at St. John's, KenBingtonwood.

Aristocratic, as you shall find them in all tho things, those English there exclude tho proletarians from the ground by iron bars and polismans (officers of peace). No one may set foot on the noble Lord's Oval without paying a sixpenny on the ordinary occasions, on tho days of speciality, days of feast, a shilling.

Is it not that the day of the grand rivality between the two Universities is one of the most special? Oh, yes.

These Universities, they are termed Oxenford and Canterbridgc.

Oxenford, famous for its dramatic productions, gives on the waters of the Acis, tributary of the argentine Tamise.

Canterbridge is situated on the Scam, a small and sluggish stream.

All the springs the students row against each other from Pootnei to Morelucks, department of the Tamise. They are then so exhausted by the rigours of a winter all Britannic and boreal that, even with the tide in their favour, it takes eight of them to push along a boat. Vaunted physical force of the Anglian! I have often managed a whole boat by myself with two sculls!

But whon the gentle breezes of the embalmy spring, nymph to the flowing hair, of the regard tender and profound, and later, when the welcome heats of summer have recruited the energies of the pale and pensive students, they meet in a rivality more noble and prolonged to play the Krickets at Lord's Oval.

They are styled familiarly :—

Those from the banks of tho Acis, Oxenfordonians.

And those from the banks of the Scam, Cantorbridgetabs.

For a week before the contest they eat—so tells me my informant, the Earl of Potter—nothing but raw bulldogs, and drink hotrumpoonch, beverage of the most fiery. This is to make them fierce and careless of danger.

And, of accord, there is of the danger! It exists, that there.

With a force wild and terrible the bowler hurls his missile at the antagonist; if yo need but mere vigour of the animal, content, of accord! Oh, yes! But his brain is still disordered by the fumes of the hotrum-poonch; and, with all his strength, it is seldom that he can aim so well as to hit the adversary on tho head with the ball. When he does so, however, the game is suspended.

The Britons, after all, are sluggish, lymphatic. Many opportunities of dealing serious blows were stupidly neglected, and in not a single instance did the batsman pursue the obvious course of picking up the ball when ho had stopped it, and throwing it back at the bowler. Insular stupidity!

The Oxenfordonians soon proved themselves the more strong. In truth, it is said by journalists of the most distinguished, that mathematical studies, to which all tho young Cantorbridgetabs are known to have given themselves with effusion, are not a good preparation for the game of Krickets.

Myself, I incline to that opinion there;

For I also am a mathematician;

But I do not play well the Krickets!

Jean Godin.


We see announced Sketclies of Irish Numitries, by Dean Murphy. Would not Sketches of Irish Summaries be a nice book for Mr. Pope Hennessy to employ his leisure on f

How misleading names are! We see Trifles for Travellers announced by "murray and Co.," and wonder how the ponderous guide-books can bo so described until we discover that the firm dates from Paternoster-row, not Albemaile-strcet. Why does not the Geographical Society follow up this publication with Travellers for Trifles. It would embrace the history of a groat many of the Fellows.

The absence of inverted commas may cause a comical inversion of meaning. For example, although wo knew the Bishop of Natal had been pretty well cut up, we did not quite expect to meet with this notice in the Times :

J^EW PART of Bishop COLEN30 on thc;PENTATEUCII.'

A Riddle Dy A Brute.—Why is a beard like common sense ?— Because no woman possesses it.


(A Retrograde Essay, Bt A Backward F.S.A.)

Historians must look back to tho nineteenth century—to a period as remote as the reign of Victoria—for tho earliest links visible in that marvellous chain of causes and effects which has been the means of bringing us to our present advanced and happy condition. The people of this generation, fortunate enough to exist under tho sway of our beloved King Arthur (who has just gone down to Camelot, in Hampshire, for a little jousting, bless his royal heart!), can scarcely hope to obtain a true picture of the period in question, veiled as it is in tho dense vapour of antiquity, and misrepresented wilfully or in ignorance by the chroniclers. A considerable part of the traditions that have como down to us regarding the Victorian era are known to be puro fiction; in fact, many acute thinkers aro doubtful whether such a person as Queen Victoria ever existed. Without entering on this question, howover, we may venture to assert that in tho nineteenth century England was wallowing in tho lowest possible depths of civilization. Bo it our pleasing task to notice briefly some of tho most important features in tho growth of barbarism and the consequent increase of human happiness.

Under Victoria tho degradation of our spocies was such that it was actually thought a noble thing for people to control their passions. The first gleam of chivalry becamo visible abovo tho horizon during the Georgian dynasty, and tho namo of Fruiting Fitzgerald (one of the earliest heroes mentioned in history) is a name that still brings the flush of admiration to the brows of our noblest and our fairest. His portrait has come down to us, and now hangs in Sir Galahed's dining-room at Joyous Gard. The greatest service conferred on barbarism in the reign of Victoria, however, was the abolition of railways, telegraphs, balloons, Eureka shirts, music-halls, and Opoponax, which brutalizing evidences of civilization were atx this time swept from tho face of the earth. Writers of tho present day are in the habit of asserting that tho music-halls of the ancient Britons are fabulous institutions; that their existence has never been proved. We should bo indeed happy if wo could conscientiously acquit our ancestors of so atrocious an invention; but our esteemed and veracious friend Merlin—tho woll-known professor of cheiromancy—has in his possession a loathsome document which we believe to be nothing more (and it cannot possibly bo anything less) than an antique chant. We have deciphered to tho best of our ability this painful relic of a bygone civilization, and it has brought us to the conclusion that such expressions as " Slap bang," and " Jolly Dogs " could have originated nowhere savo in a medhuval music-hall of tho very worst character.

Leaving this humiliating subject, let us follow the traces of barbarism onco more During tho ascendancy of tho Stuarts a good ■many visible improvements took place, both in social and intellectual matters. The reading public, for instance, began to diminish rapidly, and certain acts of individual prowess performed by Judge Jeffreys, Colonel Blood, and other worthies, showed that mankind was ready to take rapid strides in tho right direction. The execution of King Charles The First was a noblo exemplification of that reforming spirit which animated all classes. A couple of centuries earlier (say, temp. Victoria) such a step would actually have been looked upon as cruol. And yet there are still people in the world who talk about the "good old times," and regret that they were not born in the nineteenth century!

Stop by step civilization retreated beforo the ad ranee of barbarism; and in tho reign of good Queen Bess mankind gave up for ever tho disgusting practice of mangling their food with knives and other weapons. Does it not appear incrediblo that the human race should have oxisted three centuries without perceiving that our fingers aro given us to divide our meat with? How ludicrous—yet how painful —must have been tho spectacle of an ancient feast where every possible obstacle was put between caters and eatables; where a lordly joint grew cold while demons in tho garb of men were deliberating as to the slowest and most circuitous method of getting at it! In Elizabeth's reign, the dograding influenco of the drama received its death-blow, and the plays of Shakespeare vanished from the world for ever. Posterity has, indeed, cause to bo grateful for such a happy release. About this time, also, the infamous Michael Angelo ceased to exist. He is now more generally known as tho " Scourge of Italy," and is supposed to have been the greatest villain that over modelled.

In 1492 the existence of America had become so insnpportablo that a person called Columbus was sent over for tho purpose of concealing that enormous continent. This ho performed so effectually that people, nowadays, no more believe in America than in Australia and other fabulous countries. The causo of barbarism received signal assistance from Attila, Charlemagne and Pepin in Franco and Germany; while each successive king of England—from Richard The Third to the good King Arthur—contributed towards crushing out

the last embers of civilization. Tho only exception was Alfred, who endeavoured—luckily in vain—to stem tho tido of progress; a crime for which his name is still held in execration by peer and peasant.

The history of tho remaining years would be merely a record of brilliant successes in the field of advancement; and wo need hardly inform the reader that our present sovereign, and his chief ministers— especially Sir Launcelot, Sir Galahed, and Sir Bedivere—are sworn champions of reform; whilo the effete Conservative party aro gradually waxing fainter in their attempts to load us back into tho horrors of nineteenth-century civilization.


The critic, uncertain what work to select for review, has only to follow his nose and ho will at once come to the point, which will indicate Mr. Rimmel's agreeable "Book of Perfumes." It is a work of some considerable research, giving, as it does, the history of perfumes from the adol-esscnco of tho early ages down to the pre-scent day, &c. Tho author deserves very great credit at our hands when wo reflect how trying it must have been to one with his sensitive appreciation of odour to pore over musty records, and manuscripts with an unpleasant " hooky," as tho French call it.

Some of the anecdotes embalmed in these pages are very interesting. Although our space is limited we venture to quote a brief one, extracted from tho chronicles of Valkerius Hookeius, a learned monk who flourished in the reign of Elizabeth.

"When our Gracyous Suveroign did once make a progresso through ye Citye, a certaine parfumicr, who had hys Compter or Mart on ye strand of Thames, Eugenius Rymel by name, did compound and devyse a parfumo yo which he intituled ' Cupid's Tears,' signifying, thoroby, tho distresso of Master Cupid at yo Mayden Queen her despysement of ye tender pashion. But hyr Gracyous Majestic, perceaving when he presented the flask for hyr aoceptaunco that hyr Women-in-Wayting did look thereon with eyes of longing, saidpleasauntly, 'Sweets to the suite,' which words the curminge Will Shakspeer did presently ambedde in ye language of one of his stageplays."

Wo can heartily recommend this book to the bench of bishops.* The fragrance dispensed by Mr. Rimmel's shop in the Strand has long been most salutary in counteracting tho ill effects of tho odour—not to use a stronger term—of the peculiar "piety" which has its headquarters at Exeter Hall on tho opposite side of the road. But by this volume Mr. Rimmel should enlist tho support of all sound Churchmen by the pungency of its arguments against Dis-scent. Tho Dis-scenters will naturally be incensed, but will find they cannot turn up their noses with impunity at the reasoning of one who, though occasionally discursive, is always on tho right scent.

We would, beforo concluding our notice, recommend particularly for perusal tho chapters "On the present state of the Drama" (with special reference to R.-romer), "On Manufactures" (illustrated by numerous views of the ol-factories), "On Finance" (as considered in relation to per-scentage, and the connection between our national debt and the Owo de Cologne), "On Natural History" (with a briof essay on the skunk as distinguished from the ottar of rose), and those concluding remarks on perfumes in general, which may be briefly desscribed as extras.

The manner in which the book is got up is worthy of the matter. The design for the cover by Mr.. Rogers (for which he has drawn on Roger's Bank—of flowers) is extremely ingenious and artistic, and the numerous illustrations are apt and suggestive, while the leaves are essentially flower-leaves, being delicately scented. Thanks to this tho reader, when ho has regaled his eyes, can gratify his nose in the assuranco that "a snuffs as good as a feast."

A Fat-al Objection.

They say Banting's been asked for some borough to stand,
But I fancy he'll find this objection a stumpor;

With what conscience or face, I would simply demand,
Could he ask a lean voter for him to turn plumper?

THE THREE WHICHES AND McBETH-ELL. (Dramatis Pcrsonce.—Tho Loud Chancelior, Mr. R. Bethell, Mr. Wilde.)

Which was to blame? Which got tho money? Which will be punished?

A Sovereign Remedy For Destitution.—Twenty shillings.

• Tho right reverend gentlemen must be cartful not to confound with Ultramontanism the author's evident appreciation of Pot-pourri.

[subsumed][graphic][merged small]

I an a Houyhnhnm, and I love them all.

I am mild, gentle, sensitive, and good. I am pure, high-spirited, honourable, and brave. There are few virtues which I do not possess; there is not a single vice with which I am polluted.

I am little known in England. No one has visited my native shore since Captain Lemuel Gulliver, and he, though well-meaning, was not a creature of much ability. He had visited both Liliput and Brobdingnag; but neither pleased him. And why? Because in both he was the companion of beings intellectually superior to himself—of creatures to whose qualities he was blinded—in the one case by a ridiculous over-estimate of his own importance, a notion which the Liliputians good-naturedly humoured; and in the other case by an abject terror unworthy even of a mere two-legged man.

Alas! alas! how common are these frailties, not only amongst the lower orders of vital organizations, such as apes and men, but even amongst those who have so much in common with the Houyhnhnms as the horse.

Hnhnhnhnrsghnmm! Gna!

Alas, for their follies and their weakness, these men!

And yet is not their ambition to gaze upon the most beautiful models of quadrupedal form an encouraging symptom? Does it not show that they are conscious of their physical defects; and that, however vainly, they aspire towards a higher type?

I wish that I could think so, for I love them all.

Much do I fear, nevertheless, that it is not in a true spirit of humiliation they approach us. Those who seem most familiar with horses are not, unfortunately, of prepossessing aspect or of correct demeanour.

How is this? One would have thought that by long and intimate association with beings so superior to themselves they would have gradually become elevated and refined.

Perhaps they have; but if so, they hide the fact very.cleverly. For do but look at their faces, that are full of a crafty cunning; do but mark their coarse and ugly features; do but listen to their foul and vulgar languago; do but hearken to their rascally schemes of robbery and fraud; and thou shalt turn from them, with pity it is

true, since after all they are merely human, but also with aversion and contempt.

Oh, my Colt, my Colt, beware of the vices of man, beware lest even thy birth, exalted though it be, thy education, though I have conducted: it myself, may not save thee from the follies and the faults of the lowest bipeds in the creation.

Hnhnhnhnrsghnmm! Gna!

Observe, my Colt, that thou must not regard them with disdain, simply because they are ill-shapen, have only two legs, and are inferior to thee in physical strength and speed; these alone would not be just grounds for scorn, but rather for affectionate compassion; their vices only are the reason why thou shouldst shun their society, except on days, and in a place like this, with thy friends and thy father by thy side.

Oh, that thy mother had lived to see thee in thy frisky prime, my Colt! No sweeter, gentler being ever cropped the green and tender grass; none could race more swiftly along the level turf; and when she neighed the sound was melody.

Hnlmhnhnrsghnmm! Gna!


"Oraown correspondent," writing from Dublin, in the Times last month, after referring to a great variety of startling facts, capped all with the following climax :—

'Heifers which in 1842 told for from £4 to £G each, now bring £12, £15, or even £20."

How is it that the animals which wore heifers in 1842 remain heifers in 1865? They must be the offspring of Irish bulls.


Why are tutors like a watch?

Answer.—They are always at work, keep regular hours, and have mortal small "screws."

Printed by JUDD ft CL ASS, 80, Fleet Street, and Phoenix Worta, St. Andrew's Hill, Doctors' Commons, had Published (for the Proprietors) by THOMAS BAKER,

at 80, Fleet Street.—July 8, 18«5.



"when Tragedy lays down dagger and cup—

When Comedy, now so sprightly,
Grows downright weary of holding up

The mirror to nature nightly;
One happy scene at the Drama's end—

For bringing the curtain down on—
Is surely a thing that a man can spend

His shilling or half-a-crown on.

At the close of day, when the Hamlet's still,

And Othello's occupation
Seems rather to lie in a crawl down-hil}

Than an up-hill situation;
Can we not pay for the smiles and tears

That never were wholly paid for,
By shewing the poor and stricken in years

What Pity and Help were made for?

For this the Sydenham troupe will bring

Together, with pipe and tabor, A sample of almost everything

In the range of Thespian labour. Bright eyes from twenty or thirty stalls

Will scatter their beams like blazes, And the couple of buzzy bee-hive Pauls

Distribute their honeyed phrases.

For this the haughty Sir J. L. Toolb

(Long life to His Royal Highness!)
Will urge Paul B.—who is home from school—

To get the better of shyness.
By way of amusing the darling child,

He will, at a certain time, light
The dear boy's countenance with a mild

But highly effective lime-light.

There we shall meet the kind of swell

Who always appears to hanker After buying a bouquet of Ariel,

Or a fan of my Lady Spanker; The sort of party who sees Macbeth,

And cannot, in point of fact, drop The notion that Helen Faucit's death

Occurs at the fall of the act-drop.

The sort of party who thinks Miss B.

Must be always uttering curses—
And opens his eyes and mouth to see

How affably she converses;
Who tries Aunt Sally, and makes a bow

To the person who takes his money;
Then mutters, "I've always thought till now

That Bucxstone was rather funny I"

Well, there certainly are in the present age

People who can't acknowledge
That anything good comes off the stage—

Not even a Maybury College.
Yet a few of such simple truths atone

For a great many painted faces,
And it's not in the front of the house alone

That Courage and Love book places!



Dear Fun,—You know everything! What does the following advertisement in last Sunday week's Era mean?

WANTED, A PIANIST for a Free and Easy (a Blind Man preferred). If this should meet the eye of Mrs. M , she may write, when she will hear of

something to her advantage. Adress (sic.\ Mr. W , No. 29, street,


Why should a blind man be preferred? Is it to save the cost of music? Do the "free" of Blackburn play practical jokes on their faithful pianists, or do the "easy" pelt them with cigar ends?

Then again how can Mrs. M. be a blind man? and if she were, how could the advertisement meet her eye, except, indeed, it were cut out, made into a pellet, and thrown at her?

Lastly, why does Mr. W spell address *' adress f" and why

(This was all the poor fellow wrote! He was found by his laundress next morning sitting on the floor in a state of hopeless imbecility, playing with two or three straws, and muttering some unintelligible nonsense about blind pianists. As the last effort of one of our most valued contributors, we commend it to the indulgence of our readers. Our esteemed contemporary should really be more careful in future as to the admission of advertisements, and not endanger the healthy condition of the minds of its readers in so reckless a manner.]

A la Mode do Paris.

After the death of the Duke De Morny the Duchess cut off her hair—which is, as we understand, a custom in some parts of Russia. Apropos a French journal says:—

"Widows who cut off their hair as an outward and visible sign of their in- consolabtlity, symbolise, without intending it, the duration of their grief. The hairdresser does the rest."

How chivalric the sentiment, and how delicate and well-timed the satire! And yet people think the French " of a politeness the most exquisite!"

"INOPINATO MA(L)LO(W) TURBATI." Why was the M.P. for Mallow on the 27th ultimo like a dissenter about to enter his conventicle P Because he was walking into little Bethell.

Motto For The Manager Of A Musig-hall Who Has Keen ProSecuted By Mr. Wioan.—"I have supped full of Horace!"

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