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TOWN TALK.

BY THE SAUNTERER IN SOCIETY.

S

AVING and except Fenianism, which is after all very "small potatoes" indeed-and those diseased ones-there is positively nothing to write about. Even if there were, my short narrative would be far less interesting than the "long tails" the ardent sportsman is seeking in every cover. And hard enough work it is, too, for the trees are almost as leafy as they were in June. A few elms here and there are just beginning to pay the debt of nature, reluctantly doling out the yellow leaves as the British taxpayer sheds his gold coins. I suppose the country has not looked so "jolly green" at this season of the year for a long time. Some people are ungrateful enough to find fault with the continuance of sunny days, and say that the cattle plague and the cholera are due to it.

Les extrèmes se touchent. That staunch Conservative LORD ROBERT MONTAGU has, as PROFESSOR ROGERS pointed out in a letter to the Star the other day, been advocating communism, in a suggestion that a tax should be levied to recoup the farmers half their loss by the cattle plague. I am sorry to see such a radical change in one whose chief claim to public notice was his consistency. The notion is certainly a little sccialistic. What will the Social Science people say to it?

I HAVE just received a batch of cartes de visite of the great CHANG, taken by the Stereoscopic Company. They are curiously successful in giving one a notion of his height. One in which he stands contrasted with the "Han Kow Rebel Boy," CHUNG Mow, is very funny; but I hope the camera has, as is usual for it to do, libelled the lady. CHANG is not flattered, but his expression is pleasantly rendered, whereas his wife-one can't say "better half" where the relative proportions are reversed-does not appear to advantage. By the way, it is interesting to read the autobiography of CHANG, and notice in how many instances the proverbs of the Chinese resemble some of our own old saws. I have run the little brochure hastily over, and recall the following instances:-" To strive is man's part, but to accomplish heaven's." "It is a waste of water to pour it on a duck's back." "One word to a wise man should be as one lash to a good horse." The Confucian doctrine that we should "treat others according to the treatment we ourselves would desire at their hand" bears resemblance to a higher teaching than that of proverbs. The story CHANG tells is amusing. His marriage was a romantic one for his countryhe fell in love with his wife and she-well, I suppose she climbed in love with him, whereas Chinese marriages are generally arranged by the parents. CHUNG, the dwarf is also victim to the tender passion. Short as he is he had a worse fall than falling in love-he was pitched out of window by his beloved's papa. I only hope the autobiography of CHANG is not written by some one else.

THE latest "sensation" is the invention by a gentleman in Scotland of machinery by which he makes mice spin yarn. According to his calculation immense fortunes are to be realised by this economy of diminutive labour. This is reversing the old fable. The ridiculus mus is to give birth to a mountain of profit.

"No case. Abuse plaintiff's attorney," was the endorsement of a noted brief. I modify the maxim, and when there is "no news, appeal to the reader's feelings." My charity sermon in this instance has a text divisible into two heads. Firstly:-The National Lifeboat Association has published its Wreck-chart in that excellent little journal, The Lifeboat. From the chart I gather that although with the increase of our commerce there is naturally a larger number of wrecks every year, the lives lost in those casualties are becoming fewer and fewer each year, thanks to the exertions of this noble society, which stands in need of funds to carry on the good work. Secondly:-I have been looking over the twenty-sixth annual report of the Newsvenders' Benevolent and Provident Institution, and see the balance might be bigger than it is. As every person who reads these lines is indebted, in some form or another, to the newsvender, an appeal on behalf of the Institution is not out of place; but as no less an orator than CHARLES DICKENS was President this year, and his speech is obtainable, I had better content myself by recommending its perusal.

THE RETURN OF THE TOURIST.
BY AL-R-N SW-B-NE.

WHEN September's Kalends and Ides are over;
The merriest month in stubble and plain,
Fills the pheasants, in ferny cover,

With store of berries and gifts of grain;
And the papers rely on sensation leaders;
And columns are open to "constant readers;"
And whilome in foreign lands a rover,

The British tourist comes home again.
Come, O tourist, from foreign places,
Oracle now of thy native town,
With friends that wonder at foreign graces,

With speech to a Delphic utterance grown;
Leave to RAFFAELLE his mild Madonnas
In the ancient halls of the great Colonnas;
For the "Mossoo's" words and the strange grimaces
Are answered only by surly frown.

For the trips with the tickets of Cook are ended,
And all the season of bags and bills,

The Circular Notes that his hand expended,

The hearts that were weary of travelling ills;
And he's been to Turkey, and swears by ALLAH;
To Rome, and looks scorn on Caracalla;
And by faithful MURRAY once more befriended,
He gazes again on English hills.

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For he comes by night and he comes by day,
Slower of foot than the City Police;
Speech with the garnish of "s'il vous plait ;"
The girl, "ma fille," and the boy, mon fils."
He's walked and chattered round PETER's dome;
A new Bolanus* in modern Rome;
While-as when classic swells held sway,-

Still does the Capitol echo geese.

But Dover is here and the luggage is right,
And Poseidon's perils are safely o'er;
The train is off in the heart of the night,
And shimmer the stars on the sounding shore,
The train is off with a roar and rattle;
But the tourist talks with the lips that prattle
To the ears that listen and take delight-
The traveller's tales and the guide-book lore!

Correspondence.

TO THE EDITOR OF FUN.

DEAR SIR,-I venture to implore your kind assistance in solving. three questions which have troubled me night and day for weeks past. Can you tell me, sir,

1. The difference between an acrobat and a living made by stealing india-rubber?

2. Why phrenology resembles a corollary? and

3. Why did the Greeks do more than any other nation to retard the progress of the fine arts?

Answer me, dear sir, I beg, and receive the heartfelt blessings of A TREMBLING WIDOW.

1. One is an elastic incomprehensible, and the other is an elastic income-reprehensible.

2. Because it's a conk-illusion.

3. Because they supplied lots of Phidias (of hideous) statues. Be happy,

THE RIGHT MAN IN THE RIGHT PLACE.

EDITOR

WE understand that the "Hummums," which were doomed, have had a reprieve. MR. BARNUM, who is on his way to England, is about to purchase the "Hum 'em "s for his private residence.

A BIT FROM BRUSSELS.
BY OUR OWN VOLUNTEER.

I HAVE taken my part in the brotherly strife
That for days has been going on here;
And I find it's a very true picture of life-
A good many smiles-and a "Tir."

Conf. Hor. Sat. I. 9.

SPORTING INTELLIGENCE.

Gladiateur is heavily weighted. 9 stone 12 is no joke, even to the winner of the Two Thousand, the Derby, and the Leger, not to speak

THE SECOND OCTOBER MEETING, WITH ANTICIPATIONS OF THE CAM- of triumphs on the Gallic Shore. BRIDGESHIRE AT THE HOUGHTON MEEting.

BELGRAVIA.

THE Newmarket Second October Meeting will have commenced before the burning words that NICHOLAS is now about to write in the MS. will be revealed to mortal eye, by being set up in type by the printer, than whom I am sure no one more attentive and obliging, though perhaps a little inclined to grumble when the old man is late with his copy. Such, the Prophet is free to own, is often the case, he being irregular in his habits of literary composition, to which he was not brought up in early life, it having more resembled a rough-andtumble to get his bread and cheese than the pleasing studies of the Academician Grove. (Please let the printer put " Academician Grove" with a big A and a big G, it being meant as a compliment to PLATO, and the printer sometimes taking upon himself to alter the Prophet's authorgraphy when such a course as to do so is not nessary.)

And so, my merry men all, under which thimble is the little pea? Salpinctes, Alabama, Privateer, Lansdown. Who is to win the Cæsarewitch? Wouldn't you like to know, my sportive readers? (Let the printer put the next part like a stage-play.) Nicholas.-Would'st thou ?

Sportive Readers.-Yes, we would'st, we would'st.

Nicholas. And who is the proper person for to give you the tip, eh, my friends and patrons? Is it the Old Man?

Sportive Readers.-Yes, we would'st, leastways of course we mean, Yes, it is! NICHOLAS is him!

Nicholas. Am I right?

Sportive Readers.-Yes, we would'st! Give us the tip.

Nicholas.-Wait a minute, you dear impatient creatures. Who was it that sent you Gladiateur for the Derby?

Sportive Readers. It was NICHOLAS.

Nicholas.-Who was the only Prophet in the land, bar none, who foretold a dead heat at Ascot between Ely and General Peel, with the former to win at the second try?

Sportive Readers-Come now, NICHOLAS, that's pitching it a little too strong, that is. You might have foretold it; but you told us yourself that you forgot to post the letter containing the prediction, which in consequence never saw the light until after the race. No, NICHOLAS, stick to facts. Facts will speak trumpet-tongued in your favour, you good and gifted aged man. Never will it be forgotten whilst a single annal of the British turf remains, how gloriously you vaticinated the absolute winner of the St. Leger; only don't exaggerate.

Nicholas.-You are right, my worthy friends. The old man spoke from memory, which is apt to fail one at his period, but in future will always refer to his notes, and is proud and pleased to find you anxious for his tip about the Cæsarewitch. Thinking that you would probably like a clear and definite selection, naming first, second, and third. Sportive Readers.-So we would'st. Old man, you are correct. Nicholas.-Thinking such, the Prophet has sent a private note to the Editor, than whom a more affable gentleman, though a little averse to raising NICHOLAS' weekly wages, asking him to arrange to have a SPECIAL NUMBER OF FUN,

published on the 9th October, before this will be revealed to mortal eye as mentioned previous, so that there can be no collusion this time. All square, my patrons, and no kid. In this number I pledge myself

to name

FIRST, SECOND, AND THIRD IN THE CÆSAREWITCH. So that if the Editor accedes to my request you will be placed upon a prouder pinnacle than the subscribers to any other sportive periodical, bar none, though not inimical to any of them, there being room for us all, live and let live, is my motto, though of course the prophecies of NICHOLAS stand upon a very different apex than some of his contemporaries whom it would be invidious to name.

Sportive Readers.-Well, then, our trusty guide, would'st thou not partake of some refreshment, say a bottle of sherry wine? Nicholas.-Yes, I would'st-at least, no-don't print that, mind, because it looks undignified, and too colloquial, and might give the mistaken impression that the Prophet was a regular old sot, but put it down like this, more: No, I would'st not! After my prophecy have appeared, after my selection have won, the old man will gladly celebrate the festive and emolumentary occasion in the flowing bowl, but not before, such being unbecoming of a Sportive Editor of the New Serious, and now, to show that refusal of your hospitality is not prompted by ingratitude, let me give you in addition

A FEW NOTES ON THE CAMBRIDGESHIRE,

A hippic contest which will not take place before the 24th, so that I shall have plenty of time to keep you posted up, and to-day will speak

cursory.

The heaviest weighted that ever won the Cambridgeshire was Lanercost, with only 8 stone 9, and he was a four-year old, while Gladiateur is only three, in spite of insinuation by people who want to have his teeth examined, though really much more foul-mouthed in their own.

It is an enormous weight, but then the Frenchman is a good and gifted horse, and if the Count and JENNINGS really mean him, I wouldn't advise you, my sportive friends, to lay too heavily against such very clever gentlemen, than whom I am sure none more knowing, though perhaps a little?

P.S.-Keep a look out for the Special Number.
P.P.S.-I have a good thing for next year's Derby.

CHANG IN LONDON.
AIR" Doodah.”

THE Fychow dandy struts about
In a pigtail-such a big tail!-
And that's the reason I come out
In a big-tailed pigtail too!
I've had to sail all night,

And I've had to sail all day,

From over the sea, where they grow green tea,
And are dressed in the Chinese way.

With naught to do but sleep and feed,
In a pigtail-such a big tail!-
What a lovely life we Fychows lead,
And our big-tailed pigtails too.
We wag our heads all night,

And nod our heads all day;

While the dog and the cat make us all grow fat
In the well-known Chinese way!

When CHANG goes home in a monster ship,
And his pigtail-what a big tail!
He'll have done some good by his Cockney trip,
And his big-tailed pigtail too!
And then he'll feast all night,

And play upon gongs all day;
And he'll once more fly to his bird's-nest pie
In his eager Chinese way.

Answers to Correspondents.

NICHOLAS.

A GENTLEMAN, who began by leaving "An Ode to Anger," written on a collar, has called again, and apparently left his whole stock. Will he kindly come with a cart, and remove his contributions? R. D.-The offer of a serio-comic poem, ten cantos long, is a temptation, more especially if its style be "a medley of ARIOSTO, FONTAINE, HUDIBRAS, and SWIFT," and most especially if (although never published) it is " perfectly popular." Nevertheless, we must

decline.

DR. C*M*NG.-In writing to us you should really use some nom de plume, as the Beemaster of the Times does; the public will find you out otherwise, and you're too often found out-in prophecy. Our Almanack will contain a Hieroglyphic for 1866. Look out for it.

AN EARNEST INQUIRER.-We believe that a selection from TUPPER will form an early volume of Moxon's Miniature Poets, and you may therefore look for your favourite poet, CLOSE, before very long.

Å TRAVELLER.-Don't be ridiculous! You want the reverse of a tarpauling. Watch your opportunity, and go and see MR. BEDFORD acting the sailor in the Green Bushes, and you'll see a PAULtar-ing.

GABY.-We cannot tell you where to send your subscription to the fund for indemnifying Miss BURDETT COUTTS for the loss of her cows. But we would remind you not to give all to this charity, as a subscription is afoot to supply the MARQUIS OF WESTMINSTER with a few simple

luxuries.

BELLA has three suitors, all equally eligible. The first is tall and dark, the second short and fair, the third middle-sized and brown. Their means are about equal, and she believes they all love her alike. In this difficulty she appeals to us, and wishes to know how she shall make her choice. We only see one way out of the puzzle and that is "toss up."

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ABOUT THE GREAT BIG GIANT.
BY A LITTLE BOY.

DEAR MISTER FUN,-I and my sister have been to see the Chinese giant, CHANG, the tall man of Fychow, and I like it very much, and I write to tell you so because I like you and laugh at you so much, and spend a penny on you every week, and always look out for Wednesday.

So perhaps you would like to hear what I think of the giant. Well, then, you know he is very tall, but he is not wicked nor cruel, as giants used to be in the good old days, and he shook hands with me, and I was not afraid, and MRS. CHANG is a very nice woman, though her feet are too small, and she is married to MR. CHANG, and they both have fans.

MR. CHUNG Mow is a dwarf, littler than I am, though much older, and he is very proud of himself though ugly, and likes to make the people laugh, and he sings songs and pretends to fight, and when MR. CHANG carries him round the room as nurse does baby, MR. CHUNG Mow, the dwarf, thinks a deal more of himself than MR. CHANG does, though MR. CHANG is ever so much the taller.

And my papa said that the Englishman who gave the lecture was too flippant, and had no right to chaff his audience (and please, dear MR. FUN, if I spell any hard words wrong, to let some of your clever young men correct them, for my papa, who is tall, though not near so high as MR. CHANG, says that it is a hard thing to write English, and I am only a little boy, and what a large spelling-book MASTER CHANG must have had when young, and what a lot he must read at a time). My papa said that both MR. and MRS. CHANG were handsome, and that their manner was perfectly grave, courteous, and Oriental, and he wished the lecturer's manner had been the same. MR. FUN, I am,

Yours very truly,

A LITTLE Box.

P.S.-MR. CHANG is 7 feet 8, and I am 2 feet 11.

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Sol (to Time):-"WHY DON'T I RISE? I'VE BEEN SO HARD-WORKED LATELY I'M QUITE DONE UP!"

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