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MRS. BROWN HAS A DOG BROUGHT HOME.

I ALWAYS did say, and them will be my words to my dyin' days, as animals is all very well in their places, and as to BROWN a-sayin' as it don't take much for to keep a dog, why it's downright foolishness, and don't stand to reason, though certainly you wouldn't give to a infant what you gives a dog, yet it costs money, as everythin' does as is money's worth, as the sayin' is.

When I see BROWN come up to the door a-leadin' of that big dog, as I took for a calf, it give me quite a turn. You never see such a awkward, knock-kneed, all-over-the-place animal, as didn't seem to have no command over hisself no ways, and by his footprints up them doorsteps you'd a-thought as he'd got fifty legs, that you would, like the alligator out of the woods.

I says,

"LIZA JANE, don't open the front door for all his knockin'. I will not have that beast a-besmearin' my passage with his paws as is capable of knockin' any one down if jumped on sudden." As well I remembers poor MRS. JACOBS in Great Prescott-street, as was in wholesale glass and China line, with things that lovely a-comin' constant from over there in wooden cases with paper shavins as safeguards agin breakin', and always unpacked them in the fore court, as I've stood myself a-lookin' at, and I'm sure that dog was her death, though bite her he did not, through her jumpin' on the crate for to save herself, as, turnin' up sudden, pitched her into the airey, and never spoke agin.

So I don't hold with them large-sized dogs, as can reach up to the table with only their heads, and lick the cold meat if he hadn't time to collar the lot, as I see him try to do with my own eyes as BROWN was a-leadin' him through for to tie him up by the water-butt. So I says to BROWN, "Whatever are you a-goin' to do with him." He says, "I've only got him for a few days." But, bless you, I see as he was a-kiddin', as the sayin' is, and a-comin' the artful to see how I took it. So I says, "If it's only for a few days it don't matter; but," I says, "live in the house with him I never can."

Bless you, he was down my throat in a minute, a-saying as I'd better stop till I was asked, and that some dogs was much more pleasanter than many as called theirselves Christians. I was natural hurt at them remarks, but didn't say nothin' more till I see BROWN a-fidgettin' about after supper.

So I says, "If it's that everlastin' dog as you're a-grizzlin' over, make your mind easy, for Liza's give him all the bits, with a bowl of water and a lump of brimstone in, for fear as he should go mad and break his chain, and she's got some straw, and a bit of old stair-carpet for to make him a bed, as is a kind-hearted gal, and seemed to take to the brute, as nearly throwed her down, with his head a-towerin' over her'n, with his paws on her shoulder.

Bless you, BROWN, he couldn't rest till he'd gone out with a light for to see as the creature was all right, as in my opinion was the cause of his goin' on as he did, for animals is very like children, if you wakes 'em up when first off, it's hours afore you'll get 'em to sleep agin, and so I told BROWN when he come up to bed. For I heard that brute a-givin' in to whines and short barks, as I know'd meant as he was a-tunin' up, as the sayin' is.

BROWN is one of them heavy sleepers as nothin' hardly won't rouse, and off like a church the minute as he's in bed.

I was a-droppin' off gentle like when I heard that dog a-makin' a sawin' sort of noise, as though he was a-gratin' of his chain, then I heard him give a short bark and then a lot of whines, and was just off when I started out of my skin, for he give a howl as sounded through the place agin.

A nice game he kep' up till I was pretty nigh mad. As to wakin' BROWN I might as well a-tried to wake the cemetry, for he only says, "Bother the dog," and off in a minute.

"Well," I says, "bear this I can't." So I goes to the staircase winder and opens it, as let in a chilly air, though I had got my thick cloak on and my head tied up. I didn't know the beast's name so calls him "good dog;" but the moment as I spoke he flies out like a roarin' lion, and barked that furious, a-dashin' about like mad.

Well, I was that put out and thinks to myself as pr'aps a jug of cold water over him might quiet him down. So I gets the large stone pitcher, as is always kep' full a-standin' on the landin', and puts the candle on the winder-sell, and just as I'd got the pitcher to the winder if the candle wasn't blowed out, but I thought as I could aim at that barkin' brute, as was tied up just under the winder.

Well, I gets the jug up on the winder ledge, and was just a-givin' it a turn when it give a slip, and out it went, and must have ketched on the corner of the water-butt. I heard it smash with a crash as was distracting, and I hears some one cry out, "Murder! help! thieves! fire!" and I see a policeman's bull's-eye a-gleamin' and hears a rattle.

So I shets the window quick, and goes back to bed all in the dark a-listenin'. But soon there come a-hammerin' at the back-door as obligated me for to go down, and if there wasn't two police as says to me, If you keeps wild beasts you did ought for to have 'em secured proper."

I says, "Who are you a-callin' wild beasts?" Says they, "Your dog, as has roused the neighbourhood, as have sent to the stationhouse, and the party next door is pretty nigh drownded, and might have been killed with a stone pitcher a-fallin' on his head, as a nightcap ain't no protection agin."" I says, Hang the dog! for what I cares I wish he was at Jericho." "Well," he says, "he may be by this time, for he's broke his chain and bolted."

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Then I says, "Why ever did you disturb me?" "Cos," he says, we thought as there was thieves, as the old gentleman next door hollared out."

And if it wasn't poor old MR. BRETTLE next door as had come out of his warm bed for to try and pacify that dog as I'd been and soused through and through with cold water, as is a asthmatic party already. If the stone pitcher hadn't broke its fall agin the water-butt it must have been certain death to him.

Well, I told the policemen for to look round in the mornin', and gets to bed agin. In the mornin', when BROWN drawed up the blind for to shave, I hear him say, "Here's a pretty go," and never did you see such work as that dog had made, why, if he hadn't been and dug a hole big enough for to bury hisself in, and that undermined the water-butt, as it was all sunk a-one-side. So BROWN says, "Where's the dog?"

I says, "Thank goodness, gone." "Gone!" says he. "Why he's worth ten guineas. I've bought him for a gentleman as asked me to keep him for a day or two."

"What!" I says, "you've paid the money for him." "Yes," says he. "We're ruined!" says I.

I couldn't rest, for as soon as ever breakfast was over I was out at the police station, but there didn't seem no chance of findin' the dog. I was put out, and went home with a heavy heart, offerin' of a half-asovereign to any one as would bring him. I wish I'd a-said five shillin's, for a boy brought him about three o'clock, as I do believe was only sent by them police as know'd where he was all the time. Well, we fed him and coaxed him, 'LIZA JANE and me, and let him go about where he liked, for I was afraid to let him go into the garden. Well, at last he took a fancy for to lay on the mat in the passage just as I'd gone up stairs for to tidy myself up for tea. When I come down it was nearly dusk, and if that dog didn't growl that frightful at me as I couldn't come down stairs nor 'LIZA JANE come up all the evenin', and we was prisoners till just on eight, when BROWN come in as soon settled my gentleman, and sent him round to the public-house stables, as is his fit place.

As to poor MR. BRETTLE I hadn't the courage to face him; but when I did he hadn't no idea as I'd throw'd the pitcher, but thought as it had fell accidental, as the sayin' is.

The money it cost for to set that water-butt right, and tidy up the garden after that dog was a little fortune, and I don't believe as ever BROWN got all the money back as he'd paid for the dog, but he took care for to keep that dark, and if ever he said a word about_anythin', I was always ready with askin' why he didn't bring home another dog?

TO A LITTLE MAID.

BY A POLICEMAN.
COME with me, little maid!
Nay shrink not, thus afraid-
I'll harm thee not!

Fly not, my love, from me-
I have a home for thee-
A fairy grot,

Where mortal eye
Can rarely pry,
There shall thy dwelling be!

List to me, while I tell
The pleasures of that cell,
O little maid!

What though its couch be rude,
Homely the only food

Within its shade?
No thought of care
Can enter there,

No vulgar swain intrude!
Come with me, little maid,
Come to that rocky shade,
I love to sing;
Live with us, maiden rare-
Come, for we "want
"thee there,
Thou elfin thing,
To work thy spell,
In some cool cell
In stately Pentonville!

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CONTINUATIONS OF DRAMATIC HISTORIES.

Box AND Cox.

LINES

то

TO

TRUTH.

BY A CONFIRMED LIAR.

VASTLY Overrated Essence!

Slave to Matter, Time, and Space;
Bubbling up in effervescence

Of the frothiest common-place.
Foe to Fancy and its pleasures-
Giving to thy menial, Proof,
All Imagination's treasures
To be trampled under hoof.
Tell me, is there any merit

In thy being what thou art?
In the form thou dost inherit ?

In the facts thou dost impart ?
We are puppets, thou and I are.
(Talk about free-will, forsooth!)
I was born to be a liar;

Thou wast born to be the Truth.
Clearly, in a fight, the chances
Would be ten to one for me,
I contrive to make my fancies
Pass as representing thee;
While, if thou wert twice as clever
At that kind of game as I,
Obviously thou could'st never
Stoop to imitate a lie!

I shall never meet thee, maybe;
I embraced another walk,

When I was as yet a baby

And was learning how to talk.
Fare thee well! I cannot flatter;
And these verses are an act
Of deception-just a matter
Of opinion, not of fact.

The Young Housekeeper's Friend.

To CURE A SMOKY CHIMNEY.-Discontinue the use of a fire. This is infallible.

HOW TO GET NEW MILK IN LONDON.-Get the dairyman to send in the chalk and water separately and mix it as you want it.

How TO LET A HOUSE.-Let it alone.

Then a serious question arose as to what the family name really was whether Box or Cox? In the absence of any decisive information as to the name of their common parents, they were compelled to fall back upon the best indirect evidence they could come across. Cox vindicated his claim to that name principally on the evidence of a piece of presentation-plate, on which was engraved or printed in some description of brown ink, the family crest-two cocks crowing, with the legend, "A presente from Ramsgatte." Box, on the other hand, contended that this piece of plate was, in an archæological sense, worthless, being (he maintained) evidently a love-token from the proprietress of bathing-machines at Margate and Ramsgate, to whom Cox was known to have been, at one time, attached-and consequently it could only have come into his possession at a recent date. Box rested his claim to the name which he had always borne, on a curious old drinking-goblet with a richly-embossed inscription, "For a Good Boy." This inscription (Box maintained) should have run thus: "For a Good Box," the substitution of x for y being one of those unintentional corruptions which are so frequently the result of an accidental similarity between two letters. Box backed his argument with many actual instances in his own experience as a printer, and, as he with some show of reason, observed: "You have only to take the italic capital X and obliterate the right hand lower limb, and there you are!" Eventually they determined on a compromise, Box suggesting "Bocx" as the reasonable combination, and Cox suggesting "CoXB." Cox objected that Box's suggestion left his name virtually the same; and Box took the technical objection to Cox's suggestion, that it looked like a misprint, and was not capable of pronunciation. Eventually, however, they decided on CoxBox as a judicious compromise.

Ir will be remembered that immediately on the discovery of the fact that Cox was Box's brother-in the first burst of fraternal enthusiasm -they determined to occupy MRS. BOUNCER's apartments, jointly, during the remainder of their lives. But they did not get on very well together. Independently of the fact that Box was a reckless smoker, and that Cox abominated the odour of tobacco, their dispositions and temperaments were altogether uncongenial. Cox, a remarkably careful man, had saved a little money, the interest of which, added to his salary as a journeyman hatter, enabled him to live in modest comfort. He was, in short, a steady man of moderate desires, and extremely economical, not to say miserly, in his domestic arrangements. Box, on the other hand, was a "jolly dog." He was a dreadfully wild and dissipated young man, and although his occupation as a journeyman printer kept him pretty quiet during the night, yet as soon as he was released from his labours-which happened at half-past six every morning-he gave full scope to his dissipated tastes, and always "kept it up" to a very late hour indeed-seldom getting to bed before two or three o'clock in the afternoon. Of course, Box used frequently to borrow money of Cox, and Cox (who had a fine disposition and loved his brother tenderly) was at first delighted to do anything to oblige him, the more particularly so as Box, on his part, was always ready to promise any amount of interest; going as far even sometimes as seven or eight hundred per cent. But, unfortunately for their domestic happiness, it turned out that Box's disposition was nothing like as fine as Cox's disposition, for when his little promissory notes fell due, he ignored them in a manner which pained his good brother exceedingly, and the little domestic differences that ensued, caused Box (we will still call him so) ran so deeply into debt, and was so them both to regret that, in the first burst of joy, at the discovery of far in arrears with his share of MRS. BOUNCER's rent, that he eventheir relationship, they had taken a ninety-nine years' lease of MRS. tually found himself compelled to marry her, as the only means of BOUNCER's rooms, with power to underlet, on her permission only-squaring the difficulty. He set up as a printer, with her money, and which she politely, but firmly, declined to give. started a religious paper and is doing well. Cox (who has started as

a hatter on his own account) can get neither principal nor interest of the money lent to his unprincipled brother, and is now taking it out in serious advertisements, to Christian Young Men who want a Hat, with a text thrown in.

CHRISTMAS-BOXES.

AT Christmas-and so much the worse!-
When money's tight and business slack,
When both in person and in purse

One's had a bill-ious attack,

Come crowds with ceaseless rings and knocks,
And each demands a Christmas-box!

The postman, who, with each rat-tat,
Announced another batch of bills-

The doctor's lad-that odious brat

Who brought my blisters, draughts, and pills—
They come as punctual as clocks,
And each demands a Christmas-box!

The boy who brought the papers, too,
Wherein my novel was cut up,
And whence I learnt the horse I drew
Had failed to win the Chester Cup-
He comes amid the countless flocks,
And, "Please, he wants his Christmas-box!"

The butcher's man, who jars my nerves
With frantic pulling of the bell,-
The potboy, who the servants serves,
And down the area yells his yell-
They ask rewards for giving shocks,
And each expects a Christmas-box!
If Ovid's right, mankind received

Within PANDORA's chest all banes-
But there was something that relieved

The long array of griefs and pains ;While, ah! there is, when one unlocks, No Hope within a Christmas-box!

THE ROYAL DRAMATIC COLLEGE.

THE T. P. COOKE PRIZE DRAMA.

AMONGST "the competitors for the above prize," who had to "send in their manuscripts, addressed to the Master and Wardens of the Royal Dramatic College on or before the 1st of January, 1866," were two young writers whose extreme modesty induced them to combine together in the composition of a nautical drama. We shall be very much surprised if it does not prove to be quite as good as anything sent in.

THE WRECK OF THE BLUNDERGUSS.

ACT I.—By SIR B. LYTTON, Author of "The Lady of Lyons," "The
Lion of Ladies," &c.

SCENE.-The deck of H.M.S. Blunderguss. Time: Moonlight. Persons:
CLAWED MEALKNOTT, a hardy tar, all alone of hisself.
CLAWED.-Ah me, ah me, the passionate heart of man!
The moon is shining, and the lesser orbs

Are clustered round her fair effulgent disk,

A galaxy of bright attendant stars!

So shines, methinks, a philosophic Bart.,

Surrounded by a literary guild,

Whom he invites, at intervals, to tea!

Ah me, ah me, the passionate heart of man!

I love the captain's daughter; I have dared

The British sailor dares do anything

To ask her hand in marriage of her sire

Nor should I think it likely he'd refuse!

But soft! he comes! Aye, aye, three quarters slack,

Slew the main brace, avast, and brail the jib!

(Aside.) My seamanship may please him. (Aloud.) Blow the gaff!

ACT II.—BY CHARLES READE, Author of Never too Late to Mend. SCENE.-The state cabin. Time: Later. Persons: CAPTAIN. GRIFFITH GAUNT, R.N., V.C., C.B., F.Z.S., and his daughter, EMILY GAUNT, M.D.

CAPTAIN GAUNT.-Nay nay my own Emily tremble, not; for long is the lane: that, has, no, turning, in, it; and your brave: heart: through that in safety when it tries so we may save her

wanders; even

yet though such a storm never howled and raved RAVED along the iron-bound coast; here comes Barker Lieutenant not much use in him I should say.* Enter LIEUTENANT BARKER.

BARKER.-Bad news needs but a brief messenger wherefore give me but leave to say we're off the Wreckless Reef, that half the crew are drunk and but little's our hope of safety oh Emily (aside) my heart is your own for ever!

CAPTAIN GAUNT.-Haul in the cleats of the main-spanker boom from the taffrail to the deepest dungeon beneath-I MEAN, try to bring

her round.

BARKER.-I have done so. Human foresight is useless. Farewell. (Aside) Oh Emily, my heart is your own for ever! [Exit. CAPTAIN GAUNT.-Wretched Barker he dispairs; and henceforth his name shall be written on the books backward, in small capitals, thus, for barker read REKRAB!!!

EMILY.-Say it not, oh my father! Sure your mouth, not your heart, speaks his fate. Perhaps your stomach is a little out of order, Try some tincture of cardamoms!

CAPTAIN GAUNT.-Fond girl-but I know a better remedy (gets fuddled forthwith).

Enter CLAWED MEALKNOT.

C. M.-The passionate heart of man-I mean, you know, huzzay! Alone I jumped to the peak halliards loosened stays hoisted the dingey to the cross-trees brought her up in the wind's eye and we are safe SAFE SAVED!!!!!

CAPTAIN GAUNT.-Ha, then you're a gallant fellow my boy you've saved the ship; here's money for thee take it freely old Gaunt is generous but you've spoken to your commanding officer without permission and you must have three thousand lashes by the Articles of War. My heart bleeds, your back must follow suit, What ho, boatswain's mate, bring the CAT the cruel cat Ha Ha!!!

EMILY.-Quite right, my beloved parent; and I-I will feel his pulse. (Aside.) The impertinent rude fellow!

[Here enters the boatswain's mate with a live cat. Intense realism. CLAWED is flogged till the blood flows from him in torrents. N.B.If anybody should object to this in representation, let the manager order him to be removed in charge of the police.]

Answers to Correspondents.

J. R. B., Margaret-street.-Your MS., according to desire, is left for you at the office.

J. S.-The "Convivial Jumpers" do not jump with our notions of comic copy. They overleap the limits of length.

E. C. writes "Please insert the following in your journal:-Why is a man who has just had his dinner and has gone to see a friend, like a conflagration? Because he's off-full (awful)." So is E. C's joke, and so were our feelings on reading it.

BLACKIE. Certainly; Uncle Tom's Cabin is an-(h)ovel.

J. C. C., St. Martin's-le-Grand.-In spite of our great respect for its age, we must decline to insert the conundrum.

F. C., New Wandsworth.-Your MS. awaits you at the office. ALTER EGO.-We have two bits of advice: Don't drink sweet champagne, but above all, don't attempt to write riddles whether you drink champagne or no.

D. J. F. Declined with regret.

J. H. M., Edinburgh.-Not suited for our consumption-we must give them a decline.

R. W.-We have read the lines and of the Cænæ have had enough, which is as good as a feast.

E. B., Leeds. If the drawing has not appeared you may take it for granted we have not yet published it. But as you don't tell us what it is we can give you no further explanation.

W. B., Blackfriars, "sends some trifles for Christmas." We prefer plum puddings as more seasonable.

ANTEDILUVIAN.-So's your riddle.

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A CHRISTMAS PARTY.
FROM OUR UNWILLING CONTRIBUTOR.

SIR,-If you want to know my opinions about Christmas-Yah! That's it yah! You may talk about the merry Yule tide, and write your sentimental stories and carols, and represent that it's a genial hearty, forgiving, lovely time of year, but I still say, yah! I'll tell you what happened to me on Christmas night, and then you'll see what reason I have to remember the jocund holiday. You know my lodgings, at MR. BOTINKO'S, 11, Rollo Gardens, Bayswater. I was there all day on the 25th, and had a chop sent up to me at 1 o'clock, after which I sat drinking some of the unfermented wines which, mingled with water, temperance authorities declare are the right kind of beverage for festive occasions. They disagreed with me, but what of that? One must expect to suffer for a principle. Why did I stay at home? Why because I'd nowhere to go, and I knew that if I went for a walk MRS. BOTINKO Would want to borrow my room for the evening, for she had made up her mind to have a grand Christmas party. She invited me, and my answer was Yah! I gave her a month's warning on the spot, and she was so much under the influence of Christmas festivity that she laughed and said she wished I could make it convenient to leave at once for she wanted my room. I wouldn't give it up. I had a chop at one, tea at five, and I felt some satisfaction in demanding my full share of the attendance I had to pay for. At half-past nine I went to bed-not to sleep; the irrepressible maniacs down stairs were too many for me, and the room next to mine had been devoted to refreshments. A harp, a fiddle, and a cornet, were blowing and twiddling, and scraping like mechanical lunatics in the front drawing-room; and there was a stamping of feet that shook the house enough to bring it down to the very foundations. I wish it had, all except my

room.

At last there came a lull just about their supper-time, and I dropped off, when after I'd been dreaming for some time, I suddenly woke again with an awful sensation that I'd been driving along the edge of a mountain torrent in a four-wheeled cab, with broken springs. Judge of my horror to hear the sound of rushing water accompanied by a rumbling sound. I'd put out my candle, and had forgot where I had last seen the lucifers, so I crept cautiously out of bed to feel for the box, first throwing on my dressing-gown and pulling my night-cap well over my ars. I approached the mantel

down

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piece, treading in a pool of water, which had deluged my papers. had secured the lucifers and was about to strike one, when a cataract descended from above and I had to fly for my life in the direction of the door. It was horrible. There was a dreadful suffocation in the air, and I plunged down stairs with a wild cry of excusable terror. - I room under a sort of theatrical proscenium, with a number of people burst open the drawing-room door. I stood in a brilliantly lighted sitting before me in the next compartment beyond the folding doors. dream? I turned and caught a glimpse of myself in a looking-glass. My appearance was hailed with laughter and applause. Was it all a I must have been subject to a cascade of ink, which was still running for help I gathered my dressing-gown and fled, pursued by some of the my nightcap and striping my countenance. With a loud shriek company who had guessed that something was wrong. They followed to my bedroom. They brought lights. They also brought hot rum punch and dry clothes (the punch was better than the "unfermented" been an alarm of fire next door but one; the firemen had got on to the under the circumstances), and the mystery was explained. There had roof, and had operated on the wrong chimney. The party below had not heard it; they were acting charades, and when I went in I was mistaken for Don Quixote at the inn. Everything was explained. I had more hot punch. I'd plum pudding. I'd mince pie. I sang a comic song, and this was how I spent my Christmas. Yah! Ha! ha! ha! ha! P.S.-I'm not going to leave-I-in fact, I apologised to MRS. BOTINKO.

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London: Printed by JUDD & GLASS, Phoenix Works, St. Andrew's Hill, Doctors' Commons, and Published (for the Proprietors) by THOMAS BAKER, at 80, Fleet-street, E.C.-January 6, 1866.

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CONTINUATIONS OF DRAMATIC HISTORIES.

STILL WATERS RUN DEEP.

JOHN MILDMAY never held up his head in society after the discovery of his disgraceful behaviour in admitting to his table, and in introducing to his friends, a fellow whom, by his own confession he knew to be a thief and a swindler, and whom he had discovered in an intrigue with his disgraceful wife. He was at first charged as CAPTAIN HAWKESLEY'S accomplice, but after six weeks' detention (for the committing magistrate declined to take bail for his reappearance) he was acquitted, by an ignorant jury. However, his liberty was but of short duration, for immediately on his acquittal on the charge of being an accessory before the fact, he was taken into custody on a charge of compounding a felony, in forbearing to prosecute CAPTAIN HAWKESLEY on condition of receiving MRS. STERNHOLD'S letters. Justice, once baulked of her prey, was at length satisfied, and the mean-spirited Lancashire scamp was sentenced to twelve months' imprisonment, in addition to the payment of a fine of one hundred pounds. This completely broke up his home. His money, which was invested iu bubble companies, disappeared by large instalments as the bubbles burst in succession, and his wicked wife availed herself of his temporary imprisonment to elope with DUNBILD-the scoundrel who had induced her weak-minded simpleton of a husband to invest his money in halfa-dozen preposterous joint stock companies. MRS. STERNHOLD never recovered from the effect of the exposé, for her letters to HAWKESLEY were read in open court, and formed the subject of leaders in all the daily papers. She endeavoured, but in vain, to procure a situation as companion to an elderly lady, and is now dancing in the Alhambra ballet. MR. POTTER earns a precarious livelihood by calling at chambers with pens and ink for sale. He is about to be married to a Temple laundress.

HAWKESLEY got off with eighteen months' imprisonment, and is now

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The Bachelor Uncle's Lament.

I MARK'D his neatly-twisted tie,

I caught by accident her name, I saw the timid couples fly

Where'er the dashing dancer came; With lilac gloves and polish'd boots He waltzed beneath a band of COOTE's. Thicker and thicker grew the crowd, And ruddier grew his pleasant face; In vain I raised my voice aloud,

Of CHARLIE I could find no trace; As usual he had met his doom,

And flirted in an ante-room.

And will he ever thus behave,

Nor know his doting uncle's care?

Alas! I came too late to save

The youth, this time, from woman's snare.

Soon will the morning papers tell,

How my poor nephew danced and fell.

A MILITIA'S REPORT.

A RUMOUR, we trust uufounded, states that Government have decided not to call out the Irish Militia for training this year. Such an omission to give that force drill would sow broadcast the belief that the training was suspended for fear of another sort of training, gunpowder-training, which might lead to an explosion. We don't believe the report.

I believe you, my Bohea!

Ir is stated that CHANG's parents are engaged in the tea trade. If so the celebrated giant must be a remarkably fine specimen of their High-son.

THE OLD HAIRY-STOCRACY.

Ir is rumoured that some of the "great Whigs" are opposed to the prospect of a new Reform Bill. It is mysteriously hinted that a Northern duke and a Yorkshire Earl are among the dissentients-not to mention "the DUKE OF D. and LORD G." Well, after all, the Wigs are not the Heads of the people!

a gentleman on town. He is getting up a company for the purchase of all the metropolitan squares as sites for underground railway termini, and is doing extremely well. He has purchased the lease of MILDMAY's house in Brompton, and has quite recovered his usual health and spirits. JOHN MILDMAY on his release from prison set up a mockauction in the Borough, which paid him pretty well for a time, but eventually he got into difficulty owing to a dispute with a swindled purchaser who had been induced by the auctioneer to bid for a set of volumes which he described as "poetry," but which turned out to be the works of MR. M. F. TUPPER. MILDMAY with a view of getting out of the quarrel in the simplest manner, resorted to his old dodge of placing two pistols, one loaded and the other empty, under a tablecloth, and challenging his accuser to take one of the weapons at hazard while he took the other, as a preliminary to their fighting a duel, over a veneered mahogany dining-table. To MILDMAY's horror the customer (an Irishman) accepted the challenge with joy, whereupon MILDMAY gave him into custody for attempting a breach of the peace, and then decamped. Nothing was heard of him for some time after this, but he eventually turned up as a park-preacher. On the suppression of park-preaching, he became a sandwich, and on the suppression of sandwiches he obtained, through MRS. STERNHOLD'S influence, an engagement at the Alhambra to play the stout Russian Nobleman in the skating ballet. On Boxing Day he appeared at the Islington tournament as a comic herald, and we are pleased to hear is extremely well.

THE YOUNG HOUSEKEEPER'S FRIEND. and you will then learn exactly how fresh it was at first. HOW TO KNOW WHEN MEAT IS FRESH.-Keep it until it gets bad,

till you meet with one that suits you. How TO GET A GOOD SERVANT.-Keep on discharging the bad ones

HOW TO DISCOURAGE THE PERQUISITE SYSTEM.-Never buy anything of anybody.

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