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TIDDY.-Eh, Job? Bock t'waite clacken taggie? NELLIE (mournfully).—Yes, Tiddy. (Aside.) I am the only person in these parts who is intelligible, except Sir Gilbert Featherstone. Can my emotion at his presence be attributable to that fact? It may be! [Sighs. SCENE 2.-Bleakmoor. Enter BENJAMIN BLINKER (a tiger) and TIDDY. BLINKER.-Tiddy, have you got a biceps? TIDDY.-Ah, lad!

BLINKER. True!

[Bonnets him. [Exit, thoughtfully. Enter NELLY and SIR GILBERT. NELLIE.-Ah, me! Sir Gilbert, would you tear me from my home? SIR GILBERT.-I would. [Tears her from her home. TIDDY.-Eh? T'wold thockerfull dack t'bain clackie! I'll just gang tell Job! [Exit.

SCENE 3.-A coal mine. Ten thousand additional lamps. Red fire.
Harmonic meeting apparently going on. MR. P. BEDFORD in the
chair. Chorus of convivial miners.
JOB (reproachfully).—Ah, thockle, thockle!

[They all shake their heads.
Enter TIDDY down the shaft.
TIDDY.-Job, t'woife gangt awa' wi t'wockle Baronet!
JOB.-Eh? Thot were wrang o' Nellie !

[All swoon. ACT II. SCENE 1.-Regent's Park. Interior of Ferns Villa. Room garnished with profusion of roses; smiling corn-fields in distance. Enter NELLIE, shivering.

NELLIE.-How it is snowing without! I almost wish I hadn't run away with Sir Gilbert. I really feel some remorse at having left poor Job and I express it by fainting over the furniture every quarter of an hour. But his dialect was so very provincial, that I could not stand bim. At all events, I can understand Sir Gilbert perfectly.

Enter SIR GILBERT.

SIR GILBERT (with his hat on).-I have invited crowds of distinguished guests to a ball this evening.

NELLIE (with some show of reason).-Really, Sir Gilbert, you should have told me there is nothing but cold mutton in the house.

[Faints over a sofa. SIR GILBERT.-Ha! Again! [Carries her out. Enter TIDDY and MR. EBURNE in a pair of pantomime whiskers. TIDDY.-Ah, lad. Oi be come t'seek sitivation. MR. EBURNE.-Haw! [Exit MR. EBURNE, with pomp. Enter NELLIE. TIDY.-Eh? It be our Nellie. Oh! thockt, thockt (quoting good old saying), "T"bockle wrackle maks thwockt pockle!" NELLIE (hysterically).—Tiddy—iddy—iddy—iddy—!

[Faints over ottoman. SCENE 2.-Exterior of Ferns Villa by night. Snow. Enter BLINKER.

BLINKER. Oh, what a biceps she have got!

Enter JOB, broken.

[Writhes. Exit.

JOB.-Eh? Ah! T'waite pack 'taks t'ould thortle! Adelphi guests arrive all at once at Ferns Villa, in ball dresses, trudging through the snow. Enter BLINKER.

BLINKER (contemplating Ferns Villa).—Oh, dear me, who would have thought that the magnificent saloons of Ferns Villa, with their corridors, ball-rooms, ante-chambers, and so forth, could have been crammed into such a very ordinary-looking cottage! It never occurred to me before. (Changing the subject)—Oh, what a biceps she have got! [Exit, writhing in great agony. SCENE 3.-Ante-room at Ferns Villa. Enter all the SERVANTS.

BLINKER. As there's a large party going on in the drawing-room, what is more natural than that the servants should embrace the opportunity of singing comic songs with choruses in the adjoining apartment?

ALL.-Nothing!

[They sing comic songs for half-an-hour. SCENE 4.-Ball room. Adelphi guests, in Berlin gloves, frock coats, fancy waistcoats, and affoble manners, discovered dancing. They expatiate to their partners on the liberality of the entertainment. Ladies in pink net, made skimping, and no gloves, express their delight in the "usual manner"-that is to say, by holding up their hands.

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SIR GILBERT.-Job Armroyd! JOB.-Ay, lad! Thees't gotten moi woife. Thackle bonnie barkie! SIR GILBERT.-Tut! [All tut. SIR GILBERT (hospitably to guests).—Oh, I wish you'd all go into some other room. I have business with this man.

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WE perceive that MR. DISRAELI, in explaining his fancy-franchises, took particular pains to show that the payment of twenty shillings annually would not admit ratcatchers. This is to be regretted, as we hear it was the intention of MR. JOHN STUART MILL to bring forward an amendment in reference to a subject in which he takes a local as well as a purely philosophical interest. Mr. MILL was to have moved :

"That in the event of the electoral franchise being so extended as to include Ratcatchers, this House is of opinion that the privilege should be likewise conferred upon the Daughters of the said Ratcatchers, whether residing within the Parliamentary Boundaries of Westminster, or on the other side of the Water, which term shall be taken and held to have reference solely to the River Thames.

"That such Daughters of such Ratcatchers as aforesaid, if independently engaged in the Sale of Sprats, or other Fish, all round and about that Quarter, shall be entitled to a dual Vote in such capacity; Daughters of such Ratcatchers as aforesaid ceasing to be Spinsters by such dual Vote, however, to cease and determine in the event of such contracting Marriage with Vendors of Sand, lily-white or otherwise." And yet there are people who sneer at MR. MILL as a mere theorist!

Contradictory.

Ir may seem strange, but it is a fact well-known to those who have but a slight and superficial acquaintance with science, that if you keep a fire thoroughly coaled, you will probably keep yourself thoroughly

warm.

man is as pleasant a specimen of a soldier as a not too enthusiastic civilian can expect to meet with.

MEN WE MEET.

BY THE COMIC PHYSIOGNOMIST.

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THE C. P. AT A LEVÉE.

"WHAT" (the wondering reader will ask himself when he sees the heading to this chapter) "can a young man of the C. P.'s practical good sense want to spend his time in kotooing to Princes for ?" And if the C. P.'s reply to this reasonable question is rather hazy, its haziness must be attributed to the following facts:

1. An organ grinder is playing an air called "I choose to be a bird" under the C. P.'s window, and when the C. P. scowls at him, the grinder smiles a kindly smile, as though, having been the philosopher's chosen friend in days long since, he felt sure that his re-appearance would raise a host of pleasant recollections in the C. P.'s mind.

2. A very large band of very small boys, all alike, is blessing the PRINCE OF WALES in the distance.

3. A neighbouring chapel sees some reason in the fact that this is Wednesday morning, for ringing a shrewish tinkling bell for one

hour.

4. It is on Wednesdays that intrusive h's and p's make their appearance in the middle of the whords-words, that is-that the C. P. places on the blue-laid quarto (lined) upon which he is in the habit of recording his ideas for the benefit of an eager public.

5. There is a family next door beating carpets.

6. There is another family, at the other next door, playing ASCHER'S Danse Nègre.

7. A mastiff over the way is baying like mad.

Bab

Bab

Then comes a general officer of the old school-one of those stern old disciplinarians of forty years ago. He is a martinet in every sense of the word, and will send any officer of his brigade off parade who dares to show a watch-chain. He is a particularly disagreeable old gentleman to youngsters, and is, I am afraid, as much disliked as he is feared in his district. He swears good round oaths at young men of birth, and, somehow, the young men of birth put up with them. It has always been a source of wonder to the C. P. how it is that army men, who are beyond all doubt brave and honourable as a class, bring themselves to submit to the language which certain foul-mouthed old seniors hurl at their subordinates on the smallest provocation.

To quote MR. DICK SWIVELLER, "Under such a combination of staggerers, no man can be considered a free agent." The C. P. did not go to Court to kotoo to Princes, although the kotooing to Princes happened to be one of the incidents of his progress through St. James's Palace. He went to Court in order to set at rhest-rest, that is-confound those h's!-a question which for many years had sore perplexed him-that is to say, "Why do people go to Levées ?" They cannot all go to see why people go, as the philosopher did. Of course he is well aware that there are some people whose position in society demands that they should show themselves at these singular gatherings once a year, or so, but these form but a small portion of those who attend. They go as a duty, and as a very tiresome duty, and very bored they all look. What the C. P. wanted to know is, what ENSIGN PARKER, of the Barbadoes Militia, CORNET TOMPKINS, of the Affghanistan Irregulars, BROWN, the big brewer, GREEN, the great grocer, can possibly want over and over again at St. James's? The C. P. is bound to admit that his doubts upon these points were not satisfactorily set at rest. Neither did two collateral questions, not bearing directly upon Levées, but growing out of them, meet with satisfactory solutions. What do people want in Yeomanry Regiments? and why join the Hon. Corps. of Gentlemen-at-Arms? The C. P. does not refer to the Gentlemen-at-Arms under the new organization, but to the corps as it was three or four years since. "WILKINS determining to be a Gentleman-at-Arms" is a sketch which the C. P. regrets he has not space for in this chapter.

Here is a yeomanry cavalry officer talking to the last new Radical member. The C. P. ventures to think that the yeomanry officer, who is also a deputy-lieutenant, and a colonel of militia, is a fair sample of a large class of civil soldiers. He does not look much like a warrior; but his position in the county requires that he should identify himself with its institutions. He is a gentleman of good family, and a true Conservative in politics, and is listening to the new Radical member's views on Reform, with a quiet, gentlemanly affectation of interest, which induces the Radical gentleman to suppose that he is bringing the old Conservative round to his views. But the old Conservative was never yet brought round to anybody's views. He was born and educated in certain opinions, and to these he will stick until death.

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The C. P. has invariably noticed that, with all their faults, Scotch gentlemen are more accessible to strangers than any other inhabitants of the British Isles; so he took the gallant Highlander on his left into his confidence, and requested him to pilot the philosopher through the gilded salon that leads to the Throne Room-a duty which the Highland gentleman discharged with so much twangy urbanity, that the C. P. will say nothing illnatured about him-except that he cannot possibly imagine what that gentleman could see in a Levée to induce him to come up all the way from Edinburgh to attend it.

Next is a type of young man which struck the C. P. as being pleasantly characteristic of the better class of army men. He is, as the intelligent reader will perceive, a light cavalry man; and, save that he is rather shallow-pated, not at all a bad-looking light cavalry man. He is not brilliant, but he is very gentlemanly, smokes good cigars, bets rather freely, is not above crôquet, fancies he knows all about a horse, is not much too fast, is a good waltzer, and a careful but not a foppish dresser. Altogether, taking the army as a whole, the C. P. is disposed to think that the typical light cavalry

Bu

This is an unpleasant sight. The elder officer is a fair type of a bad kind of Army Man-the Army Man whose body has grown old with greater rapidity than his tastes. He delights in the society of anyone who can tell him

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story," which, in his sense, means a very bad story indeed; and the C. P. fears that his companionship will not tend to elevate the moral tone of the raw young gentleman who is whispering the It is an unlast scandalous anecdote to the disgusting old satyr.

pleasant spectacle, and the C. P. will be pardoned for not dwelling on it. Here is the latest Q.C., talking to a very worthy deputy-lieutenant.

The

Q.C. is not quite happy in his silk robes and fullbottomed wig. He has had to give up a capital juor's practice, and he doesn't know yet whether hip practice as a leader will approach it. He has "taken silk" rather too soon, but he has a wife whose dream it has been for years to see him in a Q.C. wig, and she has hurried the good gentleman into taking a step which, if he had been left to himself, he would not have taken for half-adozen years. As for the deputy-lieutenant; why a deputy-lieutenant is such an astounding anomaly, and altogether such an unfathomable mystery, that the C. P. feels that he must content himself with merely giving his portrait. A deputy-lieutenant is too sacred a mystery to be profaned by such unhallowed hands as those of a C. P.

Ba

HARD LINES.

No doubt I'm thought a horrid muff,
And bandy-legged as Quasimodo;
My hair is very often rough,

My figure squat as any dodo;

I never sat for Romeo,

Or slim Adonis dainty creature!

But still my eyes are straight, you know,
And I've a noble nasal feature.

But, on my honour, JONES's wife

Is plain in face, in costume grubby;

I never saw in all my life

Such fishlike eyes, a nose so snubby; She's what the women call "bad style," Her hair's the dingy red of carrots, Her conversation's simply vile

Her voice far harsher than a parrot's!

She always victimizes me,

Her tone admits of no denial;

At home, one doesn't mind, you see,-
In public she's an awful trial!

I never go to see a play

But to my side she wildly rushes, When JONES slips, reynard-like, away,

And I've to drag her through the crushes

'Twas just the same the other night,

From MRS. JONES I could not sever, Although the eyes of my delight

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Come out in the gloaming

And wander with me,

By moonlight our roaming So blissful shall be:

Oh, come, but your true-love, sweet maid, is no traitor, He prudently whispers one word-"respirator."

Though skies unpropitious

Above us shall lower; To meet is delicious,

Despite of a shower.

So come to your love, spite of rain, mia bella,
But of course you will prudently bring an umbrella!

Spring.

A POETIC RHAPSODY.

THE poet went abroad in the country to look for the sweet forewarnings of Spring. He wandered in woodlands and through pastures, over hill and dale: and everywhere he was saluted by tidings of the approaching gladness. All nature was singing. As he listened by the nest of the speckled thrush in the hawthorn tree, he heard one of the eggs chanting its lay-"I would I were a bird!" and when he passed through the meadow, he heard the cow chanting in a low voice, "I know what I chews to be a daisy." And the poet's heart was light, though the integuments which clothed his lower man were but thin, and ill-calculated to protect him against the balmy Easterly winds of the welcome Spring.

Obvious.

NOTHING can be more clear to any observant mind than that the industrious portion of the Irish people have no share in the Fenian disturbances. That the Fenian body is made up only of the idle and improvident is sufficiently proved by their late rising.

Answers to Correspondents.

[We cannot return rejected MSS. or sketches unless they are accompanied by a stamped and directed envelope.]

PHILOPOEGMON will see we have, "more or less politely," licked one of his notions into shape.

CLODOCHE is thanked. His address will oblige.

L.-Your sketches once too L-ementary, are still in-L-igible.

H. T., Norfolk-street, must be off his head.

F. G., Reading, is clearly not accustomed to writing, for he spells motto with an "e."

"Great A" and "Little A" are hardly worth saving.

J. A. P., Woolwich.-We can scarcely credit it.

FATHER TOM.-We agree with you, but the paragraph is hardly suit

able.

H.-We grieve to check your aspiration.

BLUEBAG.-Won't wash.

HOP T. T. is a complete mystery to us!

F. S, Gray's-inn-road.-Parodies on "I would I were a bird" are getting beyond a lark.

B. Č., Newport Market.-"The Coffin Nail" is surely not a peg for comic verse.

Were watching both of us for ever;

And when at last I got away

To ISOLINE-(I thought I'd miss'd her)

a hit.

To my disgust I heard her say,

"So like! of course, it was your sister!"

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-, in Kent, was travelling by THE other evening as Dr. the London, Chatham, and Dover line, and shortly before the train entered the tunnel which runs under the grounds of the Crystal Palace, his attention was attracted by cries of "Someone ill-Someone ill With an alacrity which speaks volumes for his humanity and professional zeal, he leapt from the carriage, and, declaring himself to be a medical man, offered to attend to the sick person. On inquiry, however, he learnt that it was only one of the porters crying out the name of the station, which he pronounced "Sy'nh'm 'ill!" Unfortunately, by the time the doctor discovered this, the train had started, and Owing to this shocking accident he arrived home too late for dinner.

C. FITZ-H.-Not one of the ideas that "struck" you appears to us to be AN OLD JOKER.-Should it not have been "a repeater of old jokes ?" SCHOOLMASTER.-Evidently abroad,-at any rate not at home in the

comic line.

THE author of "Situations not Wanted" will not get the situation he wants in our columns, so it's all in keeping.

C. W. H., Birmingham.-Won't do.

Declined with thanks-E. S., Bayswater; S. G., Liverpool; Angelica Wiggins; W. C., St. Paul's Churchyard; W. J. H. Stone; H. B. B.; Junior Athenæum; G. D. E. P.; W. D., Park Village East; An Uncom"mercial Traveller; Blotting Paper; Ginger; Imprimatur; R. W. J.; C. L. K.; Champagne Charlie; Jolly Cold; D. M. P.; E. B.; E. M. S. Robert, 184 B.; F. J. G. H.; S. C. J., Walsall; R. B., Manchester-street J. W. R., Edinburgh; Mrs. C. Melksham; J. M.; Johannes Asurus; J. Y.; R. R. Y., Bishopsgate-street; Rustic; Pleeceman Z.; C. A. L.; Litton; Devonshire Gloster; J. M. S., Limerick; G. H. S., Southaea; J. P., Torquay; G. J., Brigg; C. B., Alnwick; J. G., Camden-town; H. W., Elgin; W. J. P., Stanhope-place; Tomkins; D. L.; Hopeful; Apollo Pipes.

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THE BRITISH MUSEUM.

THE Chancellor of the Exchequer ought to have consulted us as to the clauses of his Reform Bill. We could have suggested a fancy franchise which, without being at all likely to increase the electoral body, would have been based on a qualification of the most searching and satisfactory character. If he had proposed to give a vote to every male, duly certified to have arrived at years of discretion, who could prove that he spent twenty-four hours every month in the British Museum, we think no reasonable person would have ventured to assert that such a franchise would not be well earned, and in fact rather dear at the price.

The great question, "What shall we do with our convicts?" has long convulsed England-at least, if it has not convulsed it, it has given rise to acute internal discomfort, in connection with which we might adumbrate the distinct medical definition," stomach-ache." out a solution which struck us (simultaneously with a chill that has set We cannot quit the subject of the British Museum without pointing us sneezing ever since) in the Statuary Cellars at the B. M. We cannot but think that if the convicts were walked for an hour or two daily up and down the Sculpture Gallery at the British Museum, and a reading-desk were erected at one end, where a clergyman of the Established Church should read TUPPER, and a platform were raised at the other end, for a "comic singer' "to descant vocally upon the amount that

reduced in like ratio.

If there be, according to MR. DICKENS," a repose about Lant-street, in the Borough," there is a yet more profound calm about the B. M. depends upon "the stoyle in which it's done "we cannot but think, a calm which is like an iced stagnation. We have been frequently and that, though the returns of the coroner for the district might be we repeat, that the process would have a remarkably deterrent effect, informed by our regular readers that they visit the Museum on Thursdays, in order to repress the hilarious excitement produced by the materially increased, the cost of maintaining our criminals would be perusal of our weekly issue. But even under these circumstances it is not a stimulant (?) to be indulged in with entire impunity. One of our subscribers, who is very wealthy, chanced to be overheard to say that he visited the Museum every Thursday, and that it did him good. Proceedings in Lunacy were instantly commenced, and if our publisher had not gone to the rescue with the office books to prove that the unfortunate gentleman took in FUN every week, there can be little doubt but that the Commissioner would have sent him to an asylum.

N.B.-In the interests of humanity we would point out that the officials who would be required to see to the carrying-out of the punishment must be relieved at short intervals. It is just possible the extra expense thus involved would exceed the saving effected by the system.

Clerical Intolerance.

We have visited and inspected the Museum with the perseverance A GENTLEMAN who signs himself "An Enthusiast in the People's and courage of another SIR SAMUEL BAKER. We intend to publish a Cause," and whose real name is BUBB, writes as follows:-"Sir,-It detailed account of our travels, which will no doubt prove interesting was my fervid aspiration to christen my infant son after an eminent to the general public, throwing, as it will throw, so much light on a Reformer, as well as by my own name, ERNEST. The pampered priest comparatively unknown locality. It is a theory of ours that the ma- to whom I applied has coolly advised me to choose some other names, jority of attendants have been crossed in love; that the mummies are if possible. He did not clearly state the reason why. Can you give the embalmed remains of constant visitors who perished of inanity-me, dear Sir, any clue to his real motives?" We can only say that we beg pardon, inanition-in the building; that the Sculpture Depart- we think the reverend gentleman was quite right. Imagine, if you ment is even more depressing than the New-road between Portland-street can, the misery, both at school and in after-life, of a hapless individual and Tottenham-court-road, and quite as solemn as the monumental namedEDMOND BEALES E. BUBB!" suburbs of a cemetery; and that if the vocal Memnon could only arrange for an engagement at a music-hall, he would jump at the lowest offer. When we last saw him, he was whistling "The Harp that Once," in a depressed minor key, with as many flats as a house in Victoria-street, Westminster.

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NOTICE.-Now ready, the Eleventh Half-Yearly Volume of FUN, being

THE FOURTH VOLUME OF THE NEW SERIES. Magenta cloth, 4s. 6d.; post free, 5s. Cases for binding, 1s. 6d. each.

London: Printed by JUDD & GLASS, Phoenix Works, St. Andrew's Hill, Doetors' Commons, and Published (for the Proprietor) by W. ALDER, at 80, Fleet-street, E.C.March 30, 1867.

Town Talk.

BY THE SAUNTERER IN SOCIETY.

AMUEL JOHNSON-or as the duffing essayist delights to call him, "burly SAM JOHNSON"-speaking of EDMUND WALLER's first appearance in Parliament, says, that in such matters there is an age "before which few men distinguish themselves much to their advantage." I don't know what the age of MR. HARVEY, M.P. for Thetford, may be-indeed, I am ashamed to say I never heard of him until last week-but he certainly does not appear to much advantage in his speech on the Reform Bill. Some people never know when they are making themselves ridiculous. Fancy a fraction of our collective wisdom gravely discoursing on Thetford, "formerly the capital of East Anglia," and now boasting "a papermill and one of the largest manufactories of artificial manure!" Well might the House laugh at such a speech delivered on such an occasion. The Reform Bill is under discussion-the whole nation is agog to hear what is to be done-the House of Commons is on tiptoe with expectation, when lo! up rises a gentleman to make an important disclosure about ancient history and artificial manure!

Ir is never safe to prophesy until after an event; and accordingly I feel shy about speaking of the prospects of the Reform Bill, because by the time these lines appear, some new complication or revelation may have taken place. But I think that there may be a chance of the measure coming to something, though the Opposition is beginning to show fight, and the Ministry seem inclined to stand at bay. One can't see clearly how it is to end; but I think I may venture to predict t hat it is not impossible the result may be the same as that of the famous Irish duel, when "one of the combatants was wounded in the ar n, the other fired in the air, and so the matter terminated."

NEXT Monday will be the Royal Academy sending-in day. The exhibition, if the hangers display ordinary intelligence-or, that is more to the point, ordinary (I should, perhaps, say in their case extraordinary) fairness-will be of unusual merit. There are some "whacking canvases "in progress. FRITH has at last cont: ived to tear himself from Railway Stations, Race-courses, and Royal Mrriages, and is to give us a Charles the Second picture in his old style. MILLAIS is finishing "Jephtha and his Daughter." CALD RON has painted a fine "Home after Victory," that will be popular. MARKS has done the march of "Falstaff's Own; YEAMES, "Ny ckliffe sending out copies of his Bible;" HODGSON, "Even-song;" and WYNFIELD," The Last Moments of Cromwell," a picture that will attract attention. WALKER is finishing the "Boys Bathing," which was too late last year. LEIGHTON has a "Venus ready, with som› other subjects. Of course LANDSEER, CRESWICK, STANFIELD, and others, quos enumerare, etc., are to be represented.

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POOR LIVINGSTONE! I fear it is no use trying to believe we may yet hear he is alive. The evidence is too strong the other way. He has done noble service as a missionary of civilization, and I do i't doubt his work will be carried out to the end. Some people may ask what is the use of wasting such men on objects like African discoveries or Arctic ones. But these men are specially born for their work, and you might as well try to talk the needle of a compass into doing button-hole stitch instead of pointing northward, as hope to turn their minds from adventure and discovery. LIVINGSTONE's death is a national loss.

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I HAVE just received the first monthly part of Cassell's Magazine. It improves vastly, after number one, in its appearance, and does not fall off in its literary merit. Ethel," by J. D. WATSON, is the frontispiece, and is a pleasing little figure. The list of names of the contributors to this part is good as a whole:-MESSRS. THORNBURY, DUTTON COOKE, HOLLINGSHEAD, TURNER, SKETCHLEY, CLARKE, and MOY THOMAS should concoct a good magazine among them. The Editor should look after his lady contributors though: MRS. MALACHITE should not be allowed to talk of "a very hideous man and an intensely pretty woman, neither of whom are," etc.

THE Exhibition of the Society of British Artists will be open to the public a couple of days before this appears. It will be a very capital show. MR. G. COLE has a fine landscape, and MR. A. H. BURR a clever figure subject. MR. HAYES exhibits some of his noble marine subjects, and MR. HEMY some fine coast scenes. MESSRS. HARDY, SYER, LUDOVICI, HAYLLAR, BAYLISS, and BROMLEY will appear to advantage also, and so will MR. WALTERS, a rapidly rising artist.

The place of honour in the large room is, I believe, given to the "Beau's Stratagem," by which E. C. BARNES, deserves it, for it is as well-painted as it is original in treatment. The two rooms of watercolours will prove very attractive, I think. Three pictures by the late PAUL GRAY will be found there.

ABOUT a week or so since, the Pall Mall gravely inserted an article which announced the discovery of certain suppressed passages from "Gulliver's Travels," and gave a quotation. It professed to be a portion of the visit to the Houyhnhnms, and in it Gulliver describes the malpractices of the Turf. The whole thing was a hoax-the passage a clever forgery, which was detected by one of the sporting papers on account of the use of modern sporting slang. In other respects the imitation was capital. But the matter does not end here. Our learned contemporary, the London Review, brings its critical acumen to bear on the passage, and pronounces it to be in "SWIFT's keenest and most masterly style." Thereupon "M. F. T." (those initials seem familiar!) who takes in the L. R., but to his credit, the P. M. G. also, writes to the latter journal and begs for more suppressed passages, and the "Young man in the Temple," who supplied the first, replies:

"I am just starting from my dad's place at Ballynabraggan, so that I can't write anything immediately. If the public would like another suppressed passage or two from Gulliver, of course they can be done; but I am in doubt whether a man who is pronounced by so grave and acute a critic, as the London Review to be as admirable a satirist as SWIFT ought not to set up on his own account, and wear his own laurels. There is a fine opening for a satirist just now, and if the close and accurate critics of the L. R. can find no difference between my genius and that of the lamented Dean, I suppose I may count with certainty upon success with the mere public." Poor London Review! This is almost as good a blunder as that mistake about Johnson's preface, which was the death of the Reader. The Review will, I feel sure, survive the blow; but it will be so bruised, that it will stand in need of a good supply of that "Christmas ointment"-and no flies, this time-of which it was so justly vain a little while since.

THE weather seems to have taken a turn for the better. It has been a hard and long winter, but I hope a warm spring and dry summer will make up for it. The season has had many strange featuresamongst other things, I notice it has considerably deranged the ordinary course of the months in the north, for, as I write, I have, lying before me a copy of the supplement to the Preston Guardian, which announces that it is "for the week ending February 30, 1867."

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THE TWO GRINDERS.
THERE is a grinder drives me mad-
A double tooth, so very bad,
In vain my nerves I harden.
There is another grinder, who
Goes near to drive me crazy, too-

He's there in my front garden.
His organ with a wheezy moan
By jerks is playing "Bobbing Joan,"
He grinds with many an antic.
Meanwhile, in vain my tooth I stuff
With anodynes on cotton-fluff:
Such grinders singly were enough-

The two will drive me frantic!

Literary News.

THE "Royal Literary Fund" has issued its report, with the usual amount of speechifying, self-laudation, and ostentation. The list of benefits conferred by the society-under the cheerful title of "authors relieved"-affords food for meditation, and may be recommended for the consideration of those young authors who, adopting literature as a profession, are not quite determined which branch of it they shall follow:

Classification of authors relieved.-Class 1, history and biography, 11 grants, £460; Class 2, Biblical literature, 1 grant, £35; Class 3, science and art, 1 grant, £15; Class 4, periodical literature, 7 grants, £250; Class 5, topography and travels, 4 grants, £115; Class 6, classical literature and education, 2 grants, £80; Class 7, political economy, 1 grant, £50; Class 8, poetry, 6 grants, £150; Class 9, essays and tales, 11 grants, £315; Class 10, drama, 1 grant, £20; Class 11, law, 3 grants, £85; Class 12, medicine, 1 grant, £30. From this it would seem that poetry is not a good line to adopt, as six poets only received one hundred and fifty pounds among them, or fiveand-twenty pounds apiece, whereas historians drew over forty, and a periodical-writer, even, got over five-and-thirty. Political economy commanding fifty pounds, we would recommend our young friends to stick to that, and leave poetry, and tales, and essays to men of fortune.

Epigram on Duality.

THE scheme is ingenious and crafty a few,

But in England, at least you can't make that two deux.

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